#cabin sixteen
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nemesis cabin headcanons
children of nemesis
⢠theyâre the ONLY cabin that is safe from pranks by the hermes cabin.
⢠they never have problems with balancing chemistry equations.
⢠whenever someone from camp needs to settle a debate/argument, they always ask someone from the nemesis cabin to be the mediator/judge.
⢠they're also frequently asked to be referees for games of capture the flag, as their reputation for fair judgment makes them ideal for ensuring the game is played with integrity and without bias.
⢠when a child of vengeance is saved of a certain death by another demigod, they now owe a debt to their savior.
⢠whenever the savior calls for help, they are obligated to come and help them no matter the danger.
⢠they are all CRAZY competitive. itâs like they're in pre-revenge mode.
⢠the demigod that nemesis traded the ability to make a difference in the world for one of their eyes was nick fury (and ethan).
⢠at this point, she just has a passion for children with eyepatches.
⢠i can just picture nemesis cackling and pointing to her children "you get an eyepatch" "you get an eyepatch!" "but mom-" "EYEPATCH FOR YOUUUUUUUUU!!"
⢠they care the least about the appearance of other people, because they see their mother as the person they hate most.
⢠the hephaestus cabin helped them build a gigantic celestial bronze scale in the middle of their cabin.
⢠they don't get along well with the children of athena, largely because many of them struggle with hubris as their fatal flaw.
⢠since nemesis is the goddess who punishes those who are overly prideful or self-assured, this same principle extends to her children, creating natural tension between the two groups.
cabin exterior
⢠the cabin has dark stone walls, almost like slate or obsidian, giving it a brooding, intimidating appearance. the stones have subtle cracks running through them, symbolizing the balance of vengeance and justice.
⢠deep red and crimson accents are used around the cabin to signify blood, vengeance, and the balance of power. the entrance to their cabin is a red door. it has the scales of justice etched into it, representing nemesisâ role.
⢠above the doorway, there is a carving of an eagle, nemesis' sacred animal, holding a sword in its talons. the sword represents retribution, and the eagle embodies her watchful, unforgiving nature.
⢠a small statue of nemesis herself stands in front of the cabin, holding her sword and scales, symbolizing the ever-present concept of justice. her eyes are made from rubies, watching those who come and go.
⢠the shadows cast by the cabin seem to move subtly, giving the impression that the cabin itself is watching or judging those nearby. these shadows stretch and shift depending on the actions of the people passing by.
cabin interior
⢠the central theme of the cabin is balance. there are symbolic representations of scales EVERYWHEREâ on the walls, carved into the furniture, painted in murals. every item in the cabin is placed with perfect symmetry, reinforcing the idea of equilibrium and fairness.
⢠instead of modern lights, the cabin is illuminated by dark iron lanterns or torches with low, flickering flames, casting dramatic shadows around the room. this lighting adds to the cabinâs mysterious and foreboding atmosphere.
⢠the furniture is made of dark woodâ oak and mahoganyâ each piece sturdy and simple, but elegantly crafted. the chairs and beds have an almost throne-like quality, with high backs and intricate carvings, to emphasize power and authority.
⢠large mirrors are placed strategically around the cabin, but these mirrors do not show your true reflection. instead, they show you as balanced with your opposite. for example, someone who is overly confident might see themselves looking unsure or humble. these mirrors serve as a reminder that nemesis governs balance in all things.
⢠the floor is made of glossy black marble, cold and smooth underfoot. some areas are etched with swirling, abstract patterns that represent fate and karma, with a glowing red hue filling in the designs at night.
cabin traditions
⢠they have a tradition of making penance offerings or performing acts of restitution for any personal wrongs theyâve committed, reflecting their dedication to correcting imbalances.
⢠every month, the members hold a ceremony where they balance scales to symbolize their commitment to justice and fairness. this involves a ritual where they offer symbolic items representing their past grievances and mistakes.
⢠they frequently engage in debates about justice and morality, using these discussions to hone their skills in resolving conflicts and understanding different perspectives on retribution.
⢠each member keeps a small stone where they inscribe significant personal experiences related to justice and retribution, creating a collective memory of the cabinâs journey and values.
divider by @strangergraphics-archive
#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus#pjo#hoo#pjo hoo toa#pjo series#hoo series#pjo fandom#hoo fandom#pjo tv show#pjo disney+#pjo cabins#nemesis#invidia#nemesis cabin#cabin sixteen#cabin 16#children of nemesis
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#shakespeare#winter's tale#i canât decide which option I like better#the sheer absurdity of Paulina hiding Hermione in a cabin for sixteen straight years without anyone noticing is so funny#but is also somehow the most plausible/implied by canon ending#I am partial to necromancer lesbian Paulina though#shakespeare polls#polls
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âHello there, turtley-boos (or other type of camper)! I have an offer that is simply the bees knees! I am selling these lovely food items for unbelievably low prices! This is only while supplies last so spend those splendiferous cents before we run out!â
Frida is taking advantage of the arts and crafts to create a booth showing off the art of salesmanship. Be sure to purchase her quality items ^^
(shirt design by @ellieskellyartwork )
@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion
Vi looked at the booth. "I recognize that speech pattern. Are you also a daughter of Big Mama? Because if so, I'll take your entire stock." She placed down a handful of $100 dollar bills, along with some jewelry.
"I haven't met anyone else that has a similar speech pattern to Ma, so I'm glad that I ran into you." Vi smiled. "If you come to cabin 16, we can hang out and talk about mom." She chuckled a bit.
@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion
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Don't mind me, just writing about Piper and Drew's relationship and sobbing.
#they are a tragedy#together and separately#there's one scene that won't come in until nearly the end of the fic and its ruining me#they were sixteen (and seventeen and eighteen andâandâ)#the next chapter of the logistics of love isn't done#but chapter twenty-something is#i will never get over them#drew tanaka#piper mclean#cabin ten#aphrodite cabin#aphrodite kids#heroes of olympus
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I have a lot of "attacked by bears" dreams for someone who's only encounters with bears have been the pandas and sun bears at the National Zoo
#genetic memory my mom had her cabin door busted open by a grizzly when she was sixteen#also i learned that hornets have facial recognition and can tell their hive what you look like#and that definitely influenced how this bear was acting#i don't even live in grizzly near territory and black bears don't come into Baltimore
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can i just say im obsessed with the characters chosen for your header and icon like azulas like yeah of course but man i didn't even think about it with thalia like YEAH she does have mommy and daddy issues huh
Listen Thalia is my special girlie and she has just. Horrible parent issues
#thalia introducing herself as thalia daughter of zeus instead of thalia grace in som#but thalia moving her bed to the only spot in the cabin where her fatherâs statue couldnât watch her#thalia joining the hunt because even though her father saved her life sheâs certain heâll kill her if she reaches sixteen
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ok fine i am doing the math. one year on mars is ~670 sols. i'm going to Go Ahead And Assume "210 sols later" is at least 210 sols AFTER the first martian year (see: year one roster). so that adds up to MINIMUM 880 sols. which is 904 days on earth. which is almost two and a half earth years.
if the program started september 2017 and ran for three months, plus six months in home town and maybe a week? two weeks? in the space station cells, that adds up to roughly nine months and change. add that to the almost two and a half years, and we've got three years and three months since the program started, give or take a few weeks. which MEANS min is almost exactly three years older than noah now. so do with that what you will
#max rants about project nemesis#hold on a fucking minute she sat in her cabin and cried about noah for TWO AND A HALF YEARS????????#MIN.#like SURE if i was sixteen and my boyfriend died to save the world that would be devastating but she is now NINETEEN#she should be at the club#do you seriously want him back. do you really. he's six months younger than he was when he died and also a barely reformed murderer#no one else actually liked him they all just tolerated him because min was in charge and he was away half the time carrying messages#(she ABSOLUTELY invented that job for him just to give him something to do. they all had radios. a liaison was so unnecessary)
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The way Adrianne Lenker talks about songs she wrote is insane
#she'll just be like#yeah this is a song I wrote about the concept of pure love while I was practicing guitar for sixteen hours a day#when I was living in a cabin with a woof burning stove and then I recorded the whole thing analog to capture the sound of the space#and the feeling of pure love
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his dreamy girl | percy jackson
ጠpercy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ጠwarnings: i mention a hit? this is pure fluff to me im very bad at this. Also i was falling asleep and i thought of these so it might suck <3 ጠwc: 685 pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7
âAnd then he tried to steal my sword! The one that literally comes back to me! How stupid can you be?â his rambles echoed through Cabin 3 that hot, dark night. Some hours earlier, the blue team had won Capture the Flag, and Percy was especially excited to share all the details with her.Â
Like every other time, she hadnât attended; not because she wasnât skilled with weapons, but because no one had managed to wake her from her nap. When Grover tried, he received a slap and a mumbled, âThe horses are hungryâ, in response.
So there she was, lying on Percyâs bed in her pajamas with a face mask on, listening to him recount how he had hit Clarisse on the nose, how he had nearly eaten dirt, and how Annabeth had, once again, shoved him into the lake. His voice was extremely high-pitched, and she was on the verge of bursting into tears.
That was something she hated about being a daughter of Hypnos. Although her father had blessed her with the divine power to control her dreams âand believe me, being a demigod, that was very, very niceâ, he also gifted her with a constant sense of fatigue. At breakfast? She was tired. Lunch? She was tired. Oh, she just woke up from a five-hour nap? So what, she was still tired. She couldnât help it, no matter how hard she tried.Â
When she met Percy, she quickly became friends with the boy who, instead of ignoring her for hours until she apologized for something she couldnât control, set up a cozy little corner for her in his cabin, with pillows, stuffed animals, candles, and even tea bags. Come on, that boy was willing to challenge his dyslexia just to read something for her before bed.
âAnd then Annabeth goes, Well, you should run faster. Like, what!? I run very fast, sorryââ Percyâs shout jolted his friend out of her daydream, having closed her eyes as thoughts raced through her mind. She looked at him, watching as he fiddled with the sheets, and decided she couldnât take it anymore.
âHey, ocean breathâ she murmured, and to him, her voice sounded like a fucking angelâs. Seeing her there, in his bed made him feel like an idiot and a coward.Â
He looked at her with curiosity, quickly recalling what he was about to share and feeling excited to tell about it. âWhat? I was about to tell you how she crashed into the tree,â but as her eyes slowly rolled back, Percy realized what was happening. He couldnât help the laugh that escaped his lips. âOh, Zeus, donât tell me youâre tired!â
He moved closer to her, resting his head on his pillow and basically lying down on top of her. By the way her head was tilting to the side, he knew he only had a few minutes left before she fell completely asleep.Â
And yes, he totally chose those last minutes to tease her.
âOh god, youâre like a baby! No, like a puppy. Wait, was it cats that slept like sixteen hours a day?â the girl tried to push him away with the little strength she had left, but Percy knew that deep down, she enjoyed this. Well, maybe not being squished by him, but knowing that he didnât see her sleep as a bad thing.
She would never know, but Percy's favorite pastime was admiring her while she slept âoh my god, of course he couldnât tell her that, it sounded really creepy. He cherished every detail about her, and if she was happy sleeping, he would make the whole world fall into an eternal slumber just to please her.
âGo to sleep, dreamy,â he said, gently flipping them both so she was on top of him. After turning off the little lamp beside the bed, his hands found their way to her back, stroking it softly. She buried her face in his neck and sighed. He dared to say âI love youâ
But she was already lost in her dreams, and he was completely head over heels.
again, i am slut for fluff!!!! <3
#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#fanfic#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#pjo x reader
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The SKZ House (18+ fanfic)
Posting this for anyone specifically wanting to reblog this fic vs my Masterlist.
Summary: After a bad breakup with your ex, you need a place to live for the remainder of the school year. You see the Sigma Kappa Zeta (SKZ) fraternity ad for an "In-House Stay"; you decide to you apply and are accepted. Your duties? Cooking...cleaning...oh, and pleasing your assigned members: Hwang Hyunjin and Bang Chan.
Series Word Count: 153,021
Warnings: Oral (both m and f receiving), spanking, solo play with an onlooker, threesome, handcuffs, light dom/sub undertones, public sex, choking, orgasm denial, and angst...lots of angst.
Chapter One: Of Breakups & New Housing
Chapter Two: Of Ex's & Tesla's
Chapter Three: Of Blowjobs & Birthdays
Chapter Four: Of Pineapples & Punishment
Chapter Five: Of Mirrors & Lessons
Chapter Six: Of Joy Rides & Hot Tubs
Chapter Seven: Of Watching & Submitting
Chapter Eight: Of Drive-Ins & Wishes
Chapter Nine: Of Halloween & Hallways
Chapter Ten: Of Yin & Yang
Chapter Eleven: Of Triple N's & Multiple O's
Chapter Twelve: Of Delays & Professor Bang
Chapter Thirteen: Of Girl Talk & Berry
Chapter Fourteen: Of Surprises & Closets
Chapter Fifteen: Of Showers & Cabins
Chapter Sixteen: Of Chan & Cuffs
Chapter Seventeen: Of Futures & Flights
Chapter Eighteen: Of Beaches & Balconies
Chapter Nineteen: Of Chokers & Christmas
Chapter Twenty: Of Father's & Basements
Chapter Twenty-One: Of Rotations & Doors
Chapter Twenty-Two: Of Seungmin & Karaoke
Chapter Twenty-Three: Of You (Chan POV)
Chapter Twenty-Four: Of Changbin & Roses
Chapter Twenty-Five: Of Popcorn & Reuniting
Chapter Twenty-Six: Of Talks & Relapsing
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Of Insomnia & Revelations
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Of Notices & Benches
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Of Storms (Chan POV)
Chapter Thirty: Of Rainy Days & Goodbyes
Chapter Thirty-One: Of Vets & Contracts
Chapter Thirty-Two: Of Epilogues
FOR REFERENCE:
SKZ House Photo Book
The SKZ House Bonus Fic
Summary: For the life of you, you can't get Changbin and Seungmin to stop arguing for long...unless they're fucking you at the same time.
Word Count: 3020
Warnings: Threesome, squirting, double penetration, anal sex, deep throating, tit fucking.
One-Shot: Changbin x Y/N x Seungmin
#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids#the skz house#skz smut#bang chan#bang chan smut#bang chan imagines#bang chan fanfic#hyunjin#hyunjin smut#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin fanfic#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#lee felix#han jisung#seo changbin#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#lee know#lee minho
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BRACELETS | luke castellan.
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: y/n finds herself a friend to celebrate her special day with. takes place before the lightning thief. luke & y/n are the same age. wc: 1.9k key: n/n = nickname
taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois | pm or comment to be added <3
a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! this goes out to all my loves who just wish for one person to embrace them and spread happiness <3
sixteen.
it was finally y/nâs sixteenth birthday, and once again, not a single person to celebrate with. being a child of demeter was sweet, everyone was kind all around, but y/n simply couldnât find her people.
she got along with everyone, no one had anything against her. sure, older kids would pick on her from time to time, but that was an automatic agreement she signed when joining camp two years ago.
she just couldnât develop as strong of a bond with anyone. sheâd sometimes fall asleep with silent tears, wondering if she was broken or missing something key. if everyone was nice, why couldnât she trust? form a relation?
the night wielded a nice breeze, wafting through y/nâs locks as she sat by the strawberry fields, playing with the leaves. a slight glow emitted from her fingertips as she trailed them along the soil, a small smile on her lips.Â
glancing towards the amphitheater, she could see those her age dancing and singing, having the time of their lives. the younger kids had dispersed due to curfew, she noted.Â
they all seemed to be in glee.
snapping her eyes shut, she fought back the intrusive thoughts and inhaled a sharp breath. opening her eyes, y/n grabbed some of the soil, stacking it into three layers. grabbing a strawberry, she delicately placed it atop and pulled away to admire her makeshift cake.
âhappy birthday, n/n â happy sweet sixteenth,â she said loud enough just for her to hear. looking up at the glimmering stars, y/n decided to make a wish.
all i wish for is belonging. true belonging.
y/n went back to her cake, grabbing the strawberry and picking herself up from the ground. dusting herself off, she took her water bottle and gently rinsed the strawberry. placing it between her teeth and softly biting into it, she savoured the taste as she walked down towards the amphitheater and then the cabins.
she felt stupid for not wearing a proper jacket or shirt, but she did enjoy the fresh air leaving a chill to her skin. y/n was hoping her black tee would blend her into the night, especially as she neared the amphitheater. she wasnât entirely keen on interacting more at the moment â it was past twelve and she knew she couldnât match their energy.
âhey, y/n?â
the girl halted in her tracks. turning on her heel, she came face to face with none other than the loveable hermes boy lightly jogging up to her.
âhi luke,â she greeted, passing him a small smile.Â
luke smiled back immediately. after a silent beat, he spoke again. âi just wanted to say, ha ââ
âhey, luke! get over here, man, we need your backup vocals right now!â one of the hermes kids yelled, y/n couldnât tell who from their distance.
âyeah, give me a sec!â he screamed, turning back to the girl.
âno dude, we need you RIGHT NOW! weâre gonna be mashed potatoes if you donât!â
luke rolled his eyes, positioning himself back towards the theatre. âcanât you see iâm busy?â
âyou can talk to anyone about anything whenever, luke! this is a one time exclusive!â
âstop quoting missy elliot, and no, give me two minutes!â he replied, a slight whine in his voice.
a scoff followed, âweâre gonna be eliminated, castellan!â
exasperated by bickering with his brothers, luke sighed and nodded. âiâll be right there!âÂ
the boy instantly spun back around, wanting to wish the demeter girl a happy birthday.
she was at least 30 feet ahead of him, speed walking away with a slight slump to her shoulders.
lukeâs smile dropped. another day, another day of being unable to fully attend to her. these countless moments have occurred more than he could fathom â he was always pulled away from the one girl he didnât want to be pulled away from.
and yet here she was, disappearing out of his sight once again. âthis karaoke better be worth it,â he grumbled under his breath as he trudged back.
the next morning was calm, not many campers up to anything special. there was a soft pitter patter on the window panes, but y/n didnât mind. the rain rejuvenated her.
throwing on her raincoat but paying no mind to her shorts or shoes, y/n left the cabin with her stash of bracelet material in her pocket and sprinted through the paths, heading to chiron and mr. d.
lukeâs attention immediately perked up at the bolting girl, and he realized this might just be the one time he can say anything.
subtly running after her, he watched as she entered the big house and rather excitedly. he followed inside, keeping a distance when he heard her begin to speak to chiron.
he didnât mean to eavesdrop, but he did hear it all.
âmay i call my dad?â
âof course, y/n. here,â luke could hear the shuffle of a phone, and footsteps coming closer to the edge of chironâs office.Â
the dial tone was evident. it went through three times before he heard the young girl speak.
âhey dad. hope youâre doing good. should've known you weren't gonna pick up. i turned sixteen today, fyi. hope your kids are doing fine and same with that blonde bimbo,â she spat, making lukeâs eyes widen. âiâm not coming home for christmas. might be early to determine but iâm sure i wonât. bye.â
she walked back to chiron, and luke could hear light sniffles coming from her. his heart sank.Â
âfor all it matters, iâm here, we all are. happy birthday, y/n. youâve always made us proud, youâve always been an asset to us, you deserve to know that no matter what,â chiron reassured, and luke could hear the girl softly thank him.
stepping outside of chironâs office and shutting the door behind her, y/n broke into a sob in the hallway. it was one thing to have others not be around, but when family abandons, nothing feels real anymore.Â
luke observed as she stopped her tears almost as quick as they started, wiping her eyes as she headed towards him, unbeknownst to her.
âuh,â luke cleared his throat, âhey, y/n.â
y/nâs face warmed up, startled at his presence. hurriedly fixing herself up, she nodded. âhi luke.â
âiâm sorry for last night,â he apologized, scratching the nape of his neck. âi was trying to talk to you but i guess i got carried away with everyone else,â he paused, looking down, âas usual. iâm sorry.â
y/n shook her head. âitâs okay. donât apologize, life happens.â
âright,â luke acknowledged awkwardly. âspeaking of life,â he approached her in a friendly manner, âi wanted to wish you a happy birthday last night. youâre sixteen, one of the biggest milestones in anyoneâs life!â
his enthusiasm made the corners of y/nâs lips tug up, and she watched intently as he continued. âyou deserve an amazing birthday, and iâm going to give that to you.â
y/n was not expecting that.
âcâmon, letâs go.â luke held his hand out to her, his dark curls practically bouncing in excitement. a sweet grin crept onto her face, making the young boy smile even wider. she accepted his hand, and the second he felt her palm within his, the fragility made him realize he could never be a part of something thatâd hurt her ever again.
she was stronger than anyone he knew, enduring all the shit the world put upon her. he just knew he couldnât be one of them to do the same.Â
together, the two gracefully left the big house, trampling down to camp and rushing towards god knows where.
somehow, they ended up at the pavilions, and without a second thought, y/n pulled out her bracelet material. luke was confused but watched eagerly as she carefully took the little sacks out.
âwanna make some friendship bracelets?â
âfriendship bracelets?â luke asked, unsure of the concept.
y/n nodded. âtodayâs the day someone willingly decided to hang out with me. i was going to make some alone but if you want, we can create matching ones and mark our friendship.â
luke grinned toothily, âso weâre friends now?â
y/n nodded, âiâd love to be, if you donât mind.â
his eyes screamed happiness, âi definitely donât mind.â
the two taped down their threads, choosing colours that work cohesively with one anotherâs. ânow youâre gonna wanna take this thread and do a tuck-knot with it,â y/n explained, showing the boy to her left the steps.
after getting the basics down, the two fell into a comfortable silence, threading away and adding some cute hand-made clay beads here and there. âiâm not too childish for wanting to do this, right?â y/n suddenly asked, a nervous smile on her face.
luke shook his head and gave her a hearty grin. âi donât think there should ever be such thing as âtoo childishâ, sucks the life out of everyone,â he looked back down at the bracelet, âplus, when youâre a demigod, what else is there to do? play video games? weâd be dead in minutes.â
y/n laughed. luke froze.
heâd never heard her laugh this much. she sounded pretty.
âyouâre not wrong,â she slowly caught her breathing and softly chuckled. âare you close to finishing yourâs?â
the hermes boy nodded and watched intently as y/nâs delicate fingers tutored him on how to securely tie the ends of the bracelet. watching her move so effortlessly made his heart skip a beat â she was perfect.
even though this was the smallest activity they could ever do, she was perfect at it. it made him wonder why he didnât seize the opportunity to be her friend beforehand.
âhey, y/n?â
âyes, luke?â
âi just wanted to say,â his breath lightly hitched when she began placing the bracelet on his wrist to make sure it was of right measurement, âthat, uh, youâre really pretty.â
now it was y/nâs turn to freeze.
âbut, iâm not doing all of this to just be your boyfriend or whatever. hell, weâve just begun our friendship,â he stifled a small, sweet laugh, âso when i say this i really just mean it from the bottom of my heart. i donât want it to influence you in any way, i just want you to know how iâve seen you for the past two years.
âyouâre gentle and loving, not to mention stealthy and incredibly intelligent. i love whenever i look over and youâre always doing something that captivates me. iâve been an idiot to admire you from afar for this long, but youâve always deserved to know and be appreciated. iâm sorry i couldnât give that to you sooner.â
y/n looked into lukeâs eyes, somber traversing in herâs. âmay i hug you?â
luke nodded, and y/n wrapped him up in her arms. the boy held tightly onto her, a sudden thought of losing her intruding his mind of peace. âhappy birthday, y/n,â he whispered into her ear as they continued to embrace.
âthank you, luke. this means the world to me.â
luke now knew he had to give her the world, no matter what.
their matching bracelets would only be a reminder of what there was, what there will be and what will be gone.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x y/n#charlie bushnell#luke castellan oneshot#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo#pjotv#percy jackson x reader#pjo x reader#pjo x you#charlie bushnell x reader
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Sixteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker Ă femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, straight up murder, gun/knife violence, drug use GEN. SMUT [all possible tags, all may not apply]
Info: Ghost is too pleased with you over something he really shouldnât be. You say things, his feelings get hurt. [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
The cool, end of summer winds blew over the bushes you crouched behind. The conversation between Ghost and Adam could be heard in choppy bits, mostly Adamâs side of the dialogue. His pained voice and sharp yelp carried loud and clear over to you. As you heard him shouting for his friends, you couldnât help but pop your head up despite Ghostâs strict instructions to do the opposite. You couldnât just ignore the possibility that a group of men might be charging at him any moment now. If you could help, even just a little bit, you would. Though it seemed to be an unneccesary fear, scanning the area quickly you noticed that the yard was devoid of any movement and the living room light in the cabin had been turned out. Theyâd abandoned their friend, no doubt barricading themselves inside the cabin at that very moment. Thinking quickly, you knew they all probably had their phones on them. If they hadnât already called the cops, they would be calling them soon.Â
Pulling out your phone, you hid it behind your jacket sleeve, turning the brightness down. Once youâd wriggled around enough to safely switch it on and do some quick googling, you discovered that unfortunately for anyone in the area, the average police response time was about forty five minutes. But, as you looked up the county maps, along with the address to your cabin⌠you realized it might take them much longer to arrive. The lake sat directly on the county line, the county to the left had a police department fifty seven minutes away. While the one on the right had a department closer, yet inaccessible during certain hours.Â
A draw bridge along the river rose up and lowered manually, monitored twenty-four hours round the clock, seven days a week. It took five whole minutes to open, five whole minutes to close, and however long it took a large boat to chug along through the gap. If it were you, being tormented by Ghost and a boat was stopping help from getting to you⌠well, rightfully youâd be livid. Though you found yourself lacking the sympathy you should be experiencing for these boys. Of course they were horrible people, but violence wasnât usually appealing to you in the least bit. Youâd much rather Ghost confiscate their phones and drop them off anonymously at the police department on your way back to the city. Whatever theyâve done, thereâs bound to be a shred of evidence on at least one of their cellphones.Â
You mightâve yelled out to suggest it, but you realized that would be very unwise considering youâd already broken your promise to keep your head down. So you stayed down, your phone now shoved back into your pocket with a timer set to vibrate in thirty minutes. You took a moment to strategize in the event that you needed to get the hell out of dodge at the first sign of flashing lights.Â
âBrandon! This guyâs tryna kill me!â Adamâs shrill voice rang out through the moonlit nightscape. Once again, unable to help yourself, you popped your head up, parting the leaves and twigs to peer through. You could barely make out a struggling figure on the ground, the large truck was obstructing most of the view, only allowing you to see beneath the vehicle.
You heard the unmistakable sound of metal singing, a sharp, shrill *schinggg*, followed by a shock-delayed roar of pain. The sounds werenât quite right, the scream was in its place, but the blade and the squelch were in the wrong spots. You hadnât heard the blade go in, you were only hearing it come out. You waited for a wet thud, but never heard one. Just rustling of clothes, Ghostâs unintelligible grumbling and footsteps heading away from you. Two sets of footsteps.
He hadnât hurt him so badly that he couldnât walk, just enough that he would be lightheaded from the blood loss within the next half hour. Adam stumbled in front of Ghost who directed his jerky, uncoordinated movements by his grip on the back of Adamâs shirt. You lost sight of them when their footsteps changed from soft thuds to louder *clunks*, they mustâve reached the porch.
âSay âHiâ Adam.â Ghost shoved him toward the door, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Adam struggle to comprehend his simple order. âCan you fucking knock at least?â
âShit, I guess.â Adam shook his head and cleared his throat, his arms still ziptied behind his back. He tapped the bottom of the door with his sneaker, kicking just loud enough for those inside to hear. âHey! Brandon! Zach? Zachary! Zach I swear to god if you donât open this fucking door Iâll deny your membership!â
They could hear hushed, frantic voices behind the door as his frat brothers tried to decide their course of action. Adam was getting impatient, kicking at the door handle forcefully in hopes to break it off and gain entry by force.Â
âHere, Iâll give it a try buddy.â Ghost said, patting his shoulder before gripping him by the hair and bashing his forehead into the solid redwood door. âItâs rude to leave a guest at the door!â Ghost shouted âknockingâ on the door repeatedly with the side of Adamâs head.
âFuck! Open the fuckinâ door!â Adam breathed in short, shallow inhales as if he might hyperventilate from the stress. His lungs starting to constrict and make his face turn red, a wheezing sound escaping his throat as his breathing became labored.
âDo you have an inhaler?â Ghost asked with a slight laugh, âBreathing in all that frat boy bullshit caught up to you?âÂ
âI-I have asthma.â He wheezed, choosing to save his breath instead of wasting it by feeding into Ghostâs deliberate emotional jab.Â
âAre you gonna die if you don't get it?â Ghost asked annoyedly, seemingly miffed that he wasnât able to get a real reaction out of him.
âM-may⌠maybe.â He coughed, dry and raspy, from deep in his throat. Adam was instinctively trying to reach up to hold his neck, unable to because of the zip ties, realizing he couldnât only made things worse. Being denied the simple instinctive human reaction caused his panic to flare up into a frenzy, the formerly sure footed, bull headed, asshole was reduced to a scared kid on his knees, choking on air as he fought against his own body to breathe.
âShit.â Ghost sighed and rapped on the window with his leathered knuckles. âFor real guys, get this little shit his inhaler. Open the fucking door or Iâll bust the window.â He yelled, smacking at the glass with his palm.Â
âYou come in first!â A voice from behind the door shouted as the doorknob jiggled loosely, practically hanging by a thread from the beating Adam had given it.
âSure.â Ghost called out, certainly not planning to follow that demand. He grabbed Adam by his shoulders and lifted him up. Forcing him to stand on his own two feet before shouting for them to open the door again.
The door slowly opened just a crack, a fist holding a long knife used to filet fish lashed out wildly, aiming at everything and nothing at the same time. Ghost was thankful for his quick reflexes, as much as he wanted to ensure these guys didnât live to see the morning sun, he promised heâd only scare them. So, he pulled Adam back and kicked the wrist connected to the hand holding the knife, causing the wielder to drop it with a hiss of pain. Ghost stomped on the blade, drawing his foot backward to slide it out of the way and out of reach.
âGreat job, almost stabbed your buddy here.â He grunted, hefting Adam up and pushing him forward. âSomebody catch him, get him his inhaler.â He said in a firm voice, expecting nothing but compliance.Â
Adam fell to his knees and a lamp flickered on before illuminating the room in a soft yellow hue, allowing Ghost to see what was waiting for him behind the door. What he saw made him laugh out loud: the couch flipped on its side, the kitchen table pushed against the couch as some kind of make shift âfortâ and four guys with pots and pans for weapons.Â
âWhereâs Gordon? Didnât realize I was walking in to Hellâs Kitchen.â He chuckled, flipping out both his knives, making sure to flick Adamâs blood at his closest frat brother, just for fun.
âWhat do you want man? Why? His inhaler?â The youngest and most meek of the group, Zachary spoke up, âIf youâre gonna kill us why get him his inhaler?â
âWho said I was gonna kill you?â He laughed, wiping the leftover blood on his jeans. âGet the guy his inhaler, please.â He gritted out.
âAlright.â Wyatt nodded, coming out from beneath the kitchen table, he warily made his way to one of the bedrooms and returned quickly with Adamâs rescue inhaler.Â
âGreat job,â Ghost rubbed the two blades together in a crisscross motion before turning one toward Zach. âGet me everyoneâs phones⌠keys too.â
âYeah, okay.â He nodded quickly, tossing his own phone on the floor at Ghostâs feet. âBrandon, please.â He breathed out, thrusting out his hand impatiently when his friend didnât hand it over immediately.
âIâm not giving that psycho my goddamn phone!â He yelled, shoving Zachary away from him.
âDonât you fucking call me that.â Ghost growled, stomping over to yank Zachary back to his feet after scooping up his phone from the floor. âHand it over, like I said, Iâm not gonna kill you. Just do what I say and Iâll leave.â
âTh-thanks?â Zachary scrambled back out of Ghosts grip, giving him Wyatts phone before he joined Adam and his other friend on the floor.
âMhm.â Ghost nodded over his shoulder at him, watching him move to regroup with his friends. He caught movement from the corner of his eye and quickly spun around, only getting clipped on the shoulder by the cast iron skillet Brandon was holding over his head as if preparing to bring it down on him again.
âGoddamnit!â Ghost yelled, rolling his shoulder and feeling the muscles pinch uncomfortably. Holding both knives in a back handed grip allowed him to swing them closed quickly, holding them in his palms tightly as he wound up to punch Brandon. âTryinâ to be civil here.â He growled, connecting his fist to brandonâs chin in an upper cut hard enough to make Rocky cry.
His target dropped the skillet and it clamored to the ground in a loud crash, followed by the fool who thought it would be a good idea to hit Ghost with a frying pan. Once Brandon was on his knees, his mouth bloodied and split open, Ghost crouched in front of him and held his hand out. Instead of receiving Brandon's phone, Ghost was kindly gifted a spray of bloody spit over the white of his mask. He breathed in and let out a tired sigh, standing up he brought his knee up quickly and aimed at the same spot, this time getting a bigger, louder reaction from Brandon.Â
The yowl Brandon let out was ear piercing, with shaking hands he tossed his phone to Ghost and cupped his palm beneath his chin, spitting out globs of blood and something⌠meaty.
âYuh mad meh bighth ma tong ov.â He looked up at Ghost, a sniveling mess of red saliva and sobs, holding up his hand where he held the tip of his tongue in his palm.
âI didnât make you do that. You made a stupid choice and you got a shitty result.â Ghost scoffed, and shouted to Zach, the easiest to deal with out of them all, he was the most impressionable. âGo put this on ice.â He gestured to the hunk of flesh dismissively, groaning in frustration when he heard very loud, very messy, alcohol tainted vomiting coming from the right of him.Â
âYou fuckinâ serious?â He half laughed, half barked. Shaking his head, he snatched the tongue and walked to the kitchen, thankful that all the cabins here had a practically identical floor plan. Muttering to himself he grabbed a clean solo cup and filled it with ice from the fridge, dropping the flesh into the cup and returning to thrust it into Brandons hand.
âDonât lose it, they can sew that shit back on.â He sighed, gathering up the phones he took a seat in one of the kitchen table chairs, facing the group to keep an eye on them
âNot a single one of you called the cops?â He laughed, scrolling through call history on two phones at once. âWhyâs that?âÂ
âW-â
âDonât say a fuckinâ word.â Adam coughed, glaring at Zachary.
âLet the boy speak.â Ghost waved off Adam, taking on the torch of authority over the group for the time being.
âI- well,â Zach swallowed hard, it was clear that the kid was in over his head. This wasnât his normal friend group, he stuck out like a sore thumb, he was the lackey and being the lackey of the group is just about as well paying as being a doormat. âAdam, I have to. You know I have to.â
âNo you donât!â He lunged toward Zachary, with how they were all acting Ghost was almost positive if he left now theyâd all end up killing each other anyway.
âShut up.â Ghost barked, making a frisbee from one of the cellphones, catching Adam in the outer corner of his already bruised left eye. He hissed in pain, but gave no more complaints.
âGo on.â Ghost nodded to Zach, standing up so he could spin his chair around and straddle it, using the backrest to lean against comfortably as he listened.
âWe didnât rent this cabin.â Zachary spat out quickly, looking pale in the face as Adam smacked him in the back of the head, muttering something about âstupid freshiesâ.
âThatâs it?â Ghost laughed, smacking both hands on his knees, rubbing his leather palms against his jeans.
âWe broke in, itâs not ours.â Zachary nodded frantically, hoping the quicker he spilled his guts, the quicker the ordeal would be over with. âIâm supposed to be gettin-â
âInducted into the frat, I know, I heard.â Ghost sighed, standing up and grabbing the back of Zacharyâs shirt. âLook, take a good look. Do these idiots seem like the kind of people you want to be spending everyday of your life with for the foreseeable future?â
âN-no.â He shook his head, hands shaking with tremors of anxiety.
âGood choice. Did you drive here?â Ghost asked, getting a nod in response. âGreat, itâs your car right?â
âYes.â Zach nodded again, keeping his head down to avoid eye contact with his âfriendsâ. Ghost pulled out the phones, letting Zachary take his.
âNow, before you leave I want you to make a quick little post and send a few emails, okay?â Ghost said, pointing to the cellphone screen. âCan I trust you to do that Zach?â
âY-Yes sir.â He nodded, âWhat do you want me to do?â
âIâve airdropped a bunch of screenshots from their phones. Email them to the Dean and the head of your frat house. Probably should take a good look at them yourself. You should know what you were about to agree to partake in.â Ghost said, kicking his boot straight into Wyattâs chest as he attempted to tackle him. âThatâs enough!â
Ghost shoved him to the ground, wrestling with him until he could get his hands behind his back. Busy with the wad of zipties he was pulling from his pockets, he didnât notice Adam had recovered enough to join in on the scuffle. Just as he was pulling the ziptie around Wyatts wrists, Adamâs foot landed on top of Ghost, connecting with the back of his neck. A blinding pain rippled through Ghost, so quickly, so intensely that a wave of nausea washed over him like a tsunami. He felt green as he rolled off of Wyatt and out from under Adam who still had his heel on his shoulder. Ghost stood up, stumbling to his feet he forced himself to swallow the bile that crept up his esophagus. While Adam fell to the floor, unable to catch himself due to his restraints.
Ghost saw nothing but crimson red when he caught his balance, flipping out both knives in a backhanded hold, giving him the use of his fists and the convenience of a downward slash of his blade if needed. With one fist in front of his face, his other shot out to pop Adam on the cheek, tilting his fist to drag the cold steel down his âassailantâsâ arm. Blooming ichor cropped up through the deep split in the flesh, the heat of the fresh wound warming the blade for its next mark. Adam screamed, his hands and arms wriggling in an attempt to hold his bicep instinctually as he took in the sight of the gushing blood, in his panicked state he did what came to his mind first, trying to squish the meat back together by shrugging his shoulder up, tucking his chin there and pressing his arm against the floor.
âListen here you little shit.â Ghost said, crouching down over top of the wailing guy beneath him. âI promised I wouldnât kill any of you, I donât like breaking promises. But, Iâm not above it.â
âYou wouldnât!â Adam yelled, thrashing around, spilling his blood across the floor. Wyatt whimpering near the two of them as he pushed himself away with his feet on the slick floor.
âI would.â Ghost said, standing up and resting his booted foot on Adamâs skull to apply enough pressure to solidify his threat while he turned his attention back to Zachary. âYou done?â
âI think so.â He nodded, handing Ghost the phone so he could approve the email and facebook post.
âPerfect, you should major in journalism. Theyâll be begging for more on this story, might as well cash out.â Ghost said with a dark, deep laugh. âNice to meet you Zach, get the fuck out.â Ghost shoved the phone back into his chest along with the handful of car keys.
Zachary took his phone and his set of keys, dropping the rest on the ground. He stood awkardly as though he werenât positive that Ghost had meant what he said. Scanning the floor he took in the mess of furniture, blood, beer cans, and the quaking forms of the three frat brothers that he would be leaving behind.
âWait. Whereâs Justin?â Zachary asked, spinning around to look about the room, noticing the last member of their group was missing.
âDo you always travel in a pack?â Ghost grumbled, shoving Brandon and Adam together, lacing two more zipties through theirs to connect them. Then he brought Wyatt over, attaching him to the other two in the same manner, âWalk.â
âHow do you expect us to walk like this?â Wyatt asked, a scowl on his face while the huddle moved slowly toward the coat closet near the front door.
âWell youâre walkinâ arenât you?â Ghost growled, opening the door and uncerimoniously pushing them into the closet. He shut the door and grabbed the chair he was sitting in earlier, pushing it beneath the closet door handle to wedge it closed.
âZach!â Ghost yelled, seeing the boy coming out of the kitchen with a large knife. âSeriously? I was starting to like you!â
âWait!â Zachary screeched, throwing his hands up and dropping the knife to prove he wasnât a threat. âWait, i- i was just grabbing it to pop their tires.â
âHuh.â Ghost said, letting his body relax ever so slightly. âOkay well, did you find the other one?â
The yelling, screams and thumping coming from inside the cabin were too much for you to sit back and allow to go on, unchecked. You had decided after the loudest, most pained scream youâd heard so far rang out into the night, that you could no longer obey Ghostâs strict orders. After shoving your small backpack into Ghostâs larger one, you put it on and pulled the straps tighter to fit your smaller frame. Once it was secure enough that it wouldnât hinder your ability to move swiftly, you made your way to the truck closest to you, hoping to stay hidden for as long as possible.
The gravel crunched beneath your feet despite the ginger steps you took, occasionally glancing toward the window and the front door of the cabin, willing Ghost to come out so you wouldnât have to get any closer. After passing the truck, you ducked behind the Mazda, using it as cover when you spotted the front door slowly opening.
Peering through the dark glass of the car window you were able to make out a figure heading your way. Immediately retracting your sigh of relief when you noticed the height of the approaching person wasnât nearly as tall as what you were expecting. As the figure lifted its head, rounding the corner of the house, your worries were confirmed. It wasnât Ghost.
The weight of the possibility that Ghost really was the one crying out in pain was a pressure on your chest that went far beyond suffocating. It was chest crushing, lung squeezing, and breath halting. Without thinking you spun quickly, the gravel being displaced under your heel made a noise loud enough to have you clapping your hands over your mouth as you panted in short breaths. The soft rustling of the grass from the strangerâs movements stopped abruptly, replaced by an eerie silence blanketing the area. For a moment it was just you and your uncontrolled breathing, the adrenaline saturated blood rushing through you as your heart beat echoed in your ears.
The illusion of being in a bubble of silent safety was shattered in less than a second. A rough hand grabbed you by the handle of your backpack and pulled you up to your feet and against the side of the car.
âSo it was you.â The male voice from behind you sneered, squishing your face against the hood of the car. âWhereâs the other girl?â
âSheâs not here, she left earlier. W-way before I came over here.â You lied, panicking as you swallowed the rest of your anxiety induced word vomit in hopes that heâd believe the shortened version.
âSo itâs just you and the sissy-boy, huh?â He prodded, trying to unzip your back pack. âWhat ya got in here? You stealing shit too?â
âNo!â You wormed your way out of one of the straps, turning uncomfortably in your attackerâs firm grasp to pry the bag from his hands. Itâs one thing to disobey very clear and concise instructions. Itâs a worse thing to get caught because of your disobedience. But it would be more than a metaphorical death sentence for Ghostâs gun to end up in the hands of someone else.
âNo, I havenât stolen anything.â Your voice evening out after being raised an octave from the initial startled ânoâ from your lips.
âThen whatâs in the bag?â He questioned aggressively.
In that moment, you knew you had two choices. You could give it up or have it forcibly taken from you. Though there was a third option tapping at the back of your head, the little devil on your shoulder pulling on your ear and hoping youâd take the chance.
âThis.â With your decision made, no matter how poor, you followed through. Pulling out the pistol from the bag, pointing it directly at his chest.
âWhoa! Whoa, easy.â He laughed nervously, putting his hands up and backing off as his eyes darted around, looking for an out.
âThe trunk.â Your voice stern in a way you hadnât heard before. âOpen the trunk, get in.â
You gestured to the back of the car with the gun, watching him closely while he moved with slow, calculated steps. You could practically see the wheels turning in his brain, but by the time you noticed, it was too late. The very second he opened the trunk, he tried shoving you inside.
Wether it was an act of the gods or a a quick tug from your personal imp, youâll never know, but somehow your finger pulled the trigger. A loud blast echoed through the trees around you, the man stumbled back, holding his chest. The recoil of the pistol startled you, though the realization that the gun really had been loaded this whole time, startled you even more.
âShit.â Ghostâs body flew on autopilot when the crack of the gun reached the cabin. A million thoughts ran through his head at once, but only one stuck out clearly. Only one held his attention. You.
Zach hit the floor, his hands over his head when he registered the sound for what it was, his âfriendsâ shouting in panic behind the closet door. He made not effort to free them nor to move at all, simply frozen in fear as Ghost stepped over him, through the threshold of the front door. Jumping from the porch he hit the ground in a full sprint, only stopping when he caught sight of you, arms out in front of you with the gun still in your hands.
Through the ringing in your ears, you heard muffled words as a gentle leather hand peeled the gun from your grasp. His hands searching you for any injuries, satisfied that the only wound youâd sustained was mental, he scooted you away, shoving his arms under the armpits of the corpse before hefting the body from the ground and into the open trunk behind you. After making sure he really was dead, Ghost wiped the blood off on the manâs jeans and carefully guided you to the side of the car, having you sit down.
âYouâve got good aim for such a little doe.â He said, trying to lighten the atmosphere just a tiny bit. âHere I was thinkinâ it was deer season.â
âNo?â He sighed, patting your head and massaging your scalp with his fingertips before he straightened up. âToo soon?â
âJust a little bit.â You said, looking up at him from were you sat.
âDonât cry, itâs okay.â He said, noticing the tears welling up in your eyes. âIâll take care of it. Donât worry about nothinâ okay?â
âPromise?â
âPromise.â He nodded, holding out his pinky finger and waggling it at you until you linked yours with his. âGood girl.â His voice was rough, but it was clear it wasnât from anger. His body language was relaxed, like he was relieved.
He walked back to the trunk of the car and hummed to himself, a song that triggered a memory for you. It felt like years had passed since youâd heard it, but the beat came to the forefront of your mind with an image in tow. Followed by another, then another, and another. Ghost was humming the lyrics, but your mind was filling in the the missing instrumentals.
While you were busy trying to connect where and when youâd heard that tune, Ghost was busy cutting the shirt off the corpse of the frat boy youâd shot. With the blood soaked fabric out of the way the gaping wound in his flesh was easily visible. He let out a low whistle as he took in the damage from the close range shot. He shook his head with a little laugh and shifted his weight from one leg to the other, subtly giving his half-hard cock a bit more room.
He steeled himself for the next bit of his task, finding the bullet. He rolled his shoulders and shook out his arms to reposition his sleeves without having to touch them, before he sunk the middle and ring finger of both hands into the wound to pull it apart, lifting one side he dug around and pried open the rip in the muscle.
âGross.â He whispered, making a gagging sound when he heard the wet tearing of the fascia, feeling the stringy substance snapping under his hands.
âHey, sweetheart?â He asked in a soft voice, trying to get your attention without startling you.
âHuh?â You turned your head, only registering you were being spoken to after he snapped his fingers at you.
âCan you get me some gloves from the little side zippy?â He asked, pointing to the backpack now at your feet. âAnd thereâs a thingy of wipes in the big front zippy.â
âSweetheart?â
âOh, right. Sorry.â You nodded, moving slowly as you came down from the chemical rush youâd just experienced.
âNo, no.â He quickly shook his head when you stood up to walk over to him. âJust set âem up there.â He gestured to the back windshield with his elbow, so you did as he asked, recognizing that he was doing something that was most definitely unpleasant to witness.
âThanks doll.â He nodded, bending down and wiping the blood on his leather gloves onto the ground, dragging his fingers back and forth through the grass.
He stepped on the tip of each glove to pull them off his hands, quickly switching over to the latex gloves to continue the dirty work he shielded you from. Youâd been through enough, he already felt immense guilt for what heâd brought you into, there was no need to add insult to injury. Ghost picked up where he left off, prodding around beneath the flesh, he realized heâd have to dig a bit deeper. Separating the tissue from the muscle he forced his flat hand underneath the left pectoral as far as possible.
âFuck.â He cursed, his middle finger following the rippled meat until he lost the bulletâs path.
âBad news bears.â He called out to you, popping his head around the side of the trunk. âI need you to look in the toolbox in the back of that truck. Put on some gloves first though.â
âWhat? Why?â You asked, snapping the latex into place on your fingers after pulling out a pair for yourself.
âSee if heâs got some bolt cutters.â He sighed, taking a deep breath before speaking again. âIf he doesnât have bolt cutters get me a hammer or crowbar. Itâd be sweet if he has a crowbar.â
âA crowbar?â You asked out of curiosity, then thought better of it. âActually, nevermind.â
You climbed up into the truckbed and lifted the toolbox lid. There were no bolt cutters, only small wire cutters. Two hammers, a plethora of screwdrivers and a random assortment of metal fittings and other equipment. Buried beneath a pile of ratchet straps you found the crowbar.
âOh hell yeah.â Ghost chuckled, taking it from you as you held it out at a distance.
âUh, probably should cover your ears.â He said apologetically.
He pulled the corpse from the trunk, letting it thump on the gravel so he could plant his foot firmly on the abdomen, leaning forward with the curved side of the crowbar in his hands, the flat side pressed into the space between his ribs, just beneath the left pec.
Ghost put his weight into the crowbar, sinking it in with one firm, downward shove. It was a difficult process, one that needed a balance between force and delicacy, Ghost was only experienced at one of those attributes. He pushed too hard, going through the connective tissue between the ribs as planned and down into the chest cavity.
A wet, goopy pop met his ears before the blood began to seep out of the punctured viscera hidden in the chest cavity.
âOh, yum.â He muttered under his breath as he wiggled the crowbar back and forth as he pulled it up out of the soft substance heâd pierced. The noise was similar to the suction of pulling your fingers out of a jar of hair gel.
Ghost left the crowbar sticking up out of the wound to jog over to the stack of firewood lined up against the cabin, grabbing a thickly cut log. Passing it back and forth between his hands as he returned to the body.
Placing the log on the torso as he resumed humming the song from earlier. You made the mistake of looking over your shoulder, seeing his bloody hand on the open lid of the trunk for balance as he stepped up onto the end of the crowbar sticking out of the corpse.
Pushing down on it with his body weight, using the firewood as leverage to crack open the rib cage. You felt sick to your stomach when you saw him jump on the crowbar, hearing the sickening crunch and crack of bone breaking under the force of his movements.
Grateful that you couldnât see what was happening below the car, only having seen Ghostâs upper bodyâs part in the act. Nauseated, you pulled the pink silk from your face, gagging loudly as you held your stomach and bent over.
âShit, baby you okay?â Ghost asked, coming around to check on you. He hesitated, knowing his hands were covered in⌠unsavory substances.
âGet back.â Your hand out behind you to stop him from coming closer. âJust do what you need to do and let me throw up in peace.â
âOh, princess Iâm sorry.â He said softly, unsure of what to do. He was in clean up mode, heâd never had company during this process before. So he did what he knew to be necessary.
He couldnât have you throwing up and leaving any more evidence of your presence at this crime scene. He grimaced, wiping his latex gloves with a baby wipe from the pack youâd set out. Then unzipped a pocket on his backpack, pulling out a large ziploc bag filled with smaller ones. He dumped the smaller ones out, handing you the bigger, quart sized one.
âIf youâre gonna upchuck, make sure it gets in the bag.â He said patting your back, nodding at your grunt of acknowledgment and leaving you to your own devices.
With the rib cage popped open, he wedged his hand beneath it, feeling the squishy, slippery surface of one of his your victimâs lungs. He braved it by clenching his teeth tightly to distract himself from the sound and sensation accompanying his methodical squeezing of the organ.
âFinally.â He sighed in satisfaction when he felt the hard lump of metal buried in the lung. He pinched it to keep the bullet from escaping his hand, not wanting to go through the disgusting process again.
Now with it between his fingers, he was able to dig around with his other fingers to pull the lung out of the chest cavity to access the area with both hands to dislodge the bullet.
âGot it!â He said proudly, dropping it into one of the small ziploc bags.
He dumped the body back into the trunk of the car, not bothering to removed the crowbar or slide the lung back where it belonged. Slamming the trunk shut he cleaned up his leather gloves until they were good as new, switching them out once more.
He disposed of his latex gloves in the same ziploc bag as the bullet, then made his way to you once again. He was pleased to see that you had not thrown up and the color was returning to your cheeks.
âAlright, letâs get the fuck out of here.â He said, rubbing your back as he picked up the bag and started walking toward the woods with you.
âHey whatâs that song you-â You started, thinking if you heard the name of it you might be able to place it with the memory attached.
âZachary, buddy.â Ghost grumbled, hearing the boys panicked squeal as he emerged from the cabin with his phone flashlight training on the two of you.
âWho is that?â He pointed to you, causing you to turn fully to face him. âOh my god, youâre that girl.â
Ghost threw up his hands in frustration, dragging one down the side of his mask. âThis is my lovely lady.â
âLeaving?â Ghost asked, putting his left hand in his hoodie pocket.
âY-yeah.â Zach nodded, moving slowly as he walked toward his car which just so happened to be the Mazda.
âWe still cool?â Ghost asked, signaling you to stay put while he âescortedâ Zach to his vehicle.
âOh, yeah of course.â Zach said nervously as Ghost opened up the driver side door for him.
âListen, Iâm sorry for all this.â Ghost said, sticking out his hand for a handshake as Zach climbed into the car.
âRight.â He cleared his throat accepting the handshake which gave Ghost the opportunity to pull out his gun from his hoodie pocket, pistol whipping him with his temple as the target.
âI was really hoping this kid wouldnât get in the way, he was the only decent one out of them all.â Ghost grumbled, throwing the comment over his shoulder before turning his attention to the unconscious boy in front of him.
He grabbed another zip tie, pressing Zacharyâs finger tips against the plastic before placing his foot on the gas pedal and pulling the tie to secure it in place.
Ghost reached around, turning the key in the ignition and leaning over Zach to put the car in neutral.
âClose your eyes.â Ghost said sternly, watching you to make sure you were listening. âGood. Turn around, stay there please.â
âThank you baby,â He called over his shoulder as he started to push the car, getting it rolling toward the lake. Once it was close enough he put it in park and shouted out to you again. âCover your ears!â
Taking Zachâs hand he wrapped his fingers around the grip, positioning his pointer finger on the trigger and putting his other limp hand in the left hand cut out in the steering wheel. He pulled the trigger, the bullet ripping through the soft flesh on the underside of his chin and straight through his brain, exiting at the top of his skull, lodging in the dented metal roof of the car.
Ghost let the gun fall along with Zachâs hand before throwing the car in drive and pushing down on his knee to put pressure on the gas pedal. Quickly jumping out of the way as he slammed the door shut. Stumbling back and falling on his ass as the car sped through the yard and straight into the lake, sinking slowly.
Ghost stood up, dusting himself off before punching the air in a little victory celebration before he had to return to âcaregiver to shell shocked girlfriendâ.
Ghost approached you slowly, a soft hand on your shoulder to alert you to his presence. He pulled you into his chest and crushed you in a tight hug, squeezing you as he rocked side to side.
âI know this has been a long, really not so great night.â He said softly, resting his chin on your head. âBut I need you to tell me something okay, I need you to listen. Can you do that?â
You nodded against his chest, sniffling while you prepared for whatever it was he had in store for you this time.
âDid you touch anything with your bare hands?â He asked, loosening his tight grip around you. âThink hard. I need to know so I can take care of it.â
Your mind raced, youâd touched a lot of things. It hadnât ever crossed your mind that you mightâve left fingerprints. Fingerprints wouldnât have mattered if it had just been your original plan. Fingerprints wouldnât have mattered if you had just listened to Ghost and stayed put.
âChalk and spray cans.â You said, your eyes wide as if trying to see the various items youâd left evidence behind on. âThe truck. The window. That car, in the lake.â
âDid you touch anything inside the car?â He asked, tilting your head back to look at you.
âNot with my hands. I bumped the inside of the trunk with my arm.â You said, crossing your arms to hug yourself while he held you.
âDid you keep your hood up? Touch your hair or anything?â He asked, swatting at your hand when your lifted it to touch your hair.
âNo I donât think so.â You shook your head, hearing him sigh.
âOkay.â He took a breath, âhereâs the plan:â
âYou, sit your ass right here.â He said, pushing down on your shoulder gently to make you sit. âIâm gonna go get the cans, and wipe down the window. The truck⌠do you remember where you touched it?â
âThe side facing the woods, then I climbed up to get that stuff from the tool box.â You said, holding up your still gloved hands. âBut I had on gloves for the toolbox.â
âPerfect. Keep those on.â
He patted your head and went about his tasks, making the clean up quick as he jogged through the yard and picked up the cans heâd tossed in a pile. Taking an alcohol wipe to the window and then using more than a handful as he roughly scrubbed the side of the truck.
Thankfully, it seemed that daddyâs money kept Adamâs car well maintained so he didnât need to worry about leaving one side of the truck shiny and the other dirty. This trip was probably the only time that truck had ever seen dirt. He used what was left of the chalk spray on that side of the truck just to even it out, throwing everything away in a grocery bag to shove in his backpack.
Everything was in place, everything was handled, everything was fine. It was all fine.
Except for you.
Diary Entry: September 4th early morning
Okay, so here I am, in a goddamn tree, sitting outside your cabin, watching you walk outside every so often to vomit. Your sister and Luke think youâve got food poisoning or some shit like that.
Youâre mad because I made you strip naked before I would let you climb back in your window. Youâre mad because I had to bag up your clothes to get rid of. Youâre paranoid because there hasnât been a peep from across the lake.
Luke made you cry because he was woken up by âreally loud popsâ and heâs âalmost for certain it was a gun, how did you not wake up?â.
I made you cry because I asked if you were okay.
You made yourself cry because you just had to take one last look as we walked away and you of course thought you saw a few bubbles float to the surface of the lake. âOh my god, what if theyâre still alive?â
Baby. Theyâre beyond dead.
Speaking of, can I just say that it was fucking hot as hell to see you standing there with my gun like that? Holy shit.
Then realizing there was a whole person you blew to pieces in front of you? Lord have mercy, Lucifer take my soul.
I wish I could say it to your face. Itâs a compliment, but I donât think youâd take it that way. Youâre just so perfect. Youâre beautiful even in moments like that, with those fearful eyes and that pretty pout. The little blush creeping up your cheeks and the squeak you made when I took the gun from you.
If you werenât so distraught I wouldâve ravaged you right then and there.
I forget sometimes that youâre just a girl. Youâre a girl that I love and that I just wanted to have a good time with. I just wanted you to have a little taste of danger. I didnât want you to murder someone on accident. I didnât want to kill Zach.
But theyâre both at the bottom of the lake and thereâs nothing I can do about it now.
Iâm sorry that I seemed insensitive. I really didnât mean to. I just donât understand why youâre grieving a person you didnât know. The guy you killed was a gross, horrible, disgusting waste of space. Zach was okay, heâs just fucking stupid and had to come out and get a look at you.
You understand right? I couldnât just let him walk off after he recognized you.
Maybe youâve learned your lesson. When I say something, I mean it. When I tell you to listen, itâs for a reason.
When the little voice in my head says âhey thatâs probably not a good ideaâ I think Iâll start listening. Sometimes.
Maybe.
Diary Entry: September 7th
Iâm picking up the vibe that youâre alittle bit upset with me. Like actually me, Anakin. You texted me that you got home but I was expecting you to come over or ask me to come over⌠since youâve been gone the whole weekend. But you didnât.
Are you just that freaked out by the whole thing? I told you itâs not your fault. I donât know what else to do. People die. Sometimes they just die alittle earlier than theyâre meant to. Thatâs just the way of things.
I was there. Yet I still feel out of the loop.
Cause thereâs only so much information I have you know? I have my side of the story. But youâre keeping yours locked up in the Fort Knox of your mind.
You canât just ignore me because of one little mistake on your part. Yeah, itâs not your fault but also it kind of is. You shouldâve listened, but if I get back on that thought train Iâll be riding it for the next few stops.
So instead letâs focus on how Iâm going absolutely insane because you wonât even let Ghost inside your apartment. Iâve never been mad at you but Iâm so close to being pissed. A door stop? Really? New window latch?
If I didnât have cameras in your place Iâd be worried you found some other guy to do the window latch installation. I was pleasantly surprised (also proud) to see you putting it in all by yourself. If only it wasnât simultaneously infuriating.
I think Iâm going to have to do alittle research to see how I can worm my way inside without actually causing any damage to the door or window. If youâd just leave the apartment for even a few minutes Iâd be able to go in through the door. But no, of course I wouldnât be so lucky.
I totally considered throwing a brick through the glass of your living room window but then itâd be a few days before the super would ever even get around to fixing it, youâd have a gaping hole that anyone could climb in through and Iâd be sleep deprived because Iâd be sitting out there 24/7.
The only upside to that would be getting to see you. Although I have a feeling youâd be even more upset if I actually did do that⌠so I wonât, even though itâs very tempting.
Is it completely horrible of me to be driven by ulterior motives as well? Tempting⌠Iâm all worked up and itâs really difficult to settle for my hand after having felt the flower of Eden between your pretty thighs.
I need you. I need you in a bad way. So bad I very briefly let myself wonder if it would be cheating if I bought a fleshlight and taped your picture on it.
Logically, duh I know itâs not cheating but it feels like it.
Maybe I can invent Clone-a-Coochie. You know like the make it yourself, at home dildo? Great business idea if weâre being honest. A perfect replica of your perfect pussy? Bitch, Iâd put that on display.
âWhat the hell is that?â âOh this? Yeah, this is my girlâs pussy.â
Seriously, itâs basically the same concept of the Roman and Greeks always putting flaccid dicks on their statues. Itâs art.
Art that has more than one purpose! I love shit with more than one use. Itâs pretty, it can be fucked, itâs pretty. Look at that. Three whole things.
But even if I did invent it, Iâd still have to get into your apartment to make it in the first place and then I wouldnât even need it anymore because youâd be there.
Iâm rambling. This is what happens when Iâm nervous. Youâve made me nervous. If I didnât hate taking pages from notebooks Iâd rip this out because Iâm a fucking idiot and wrote it in ink so now the inner thoughts that shouldâve been kept to myself are in permanent physical form.
Notebook law is that you canât tear pages from a composition notebook. If thereâs one law Iâm not gonna break, itâs that one. Cause thatâs just disgusting, vile.
Anyway, the B train has been tossing around some thoughts while the A train plowed through the brain car that gets rid of my bad ideas.
B train says I should figure out how to get in your bedroom window. Thereâs no fire escape under it. Youâre on the second floor and thereâs no way Iâm rappelling down the side of an eight story building.
My need for instant gratification said I could commandeer a fire truck. They have really tall ladders. But then Iâd have to worry about hiding a fire truck and that would be practically impossible so honestly, itâs for the best that A train ran that one over.
So I think my best bet is to violate every single safety protocol on ladders and push the dumpster over, stick a ladder on top and close my eyes and hope I make it to your window.
So, if I see you, Iâve succeeded. If I havenât. Maybe donât look out your bedroom window.
Ps.
I just donât understand. Iâm sorry, I donât. This would be just so much easier if youâd flap your fucking jaws like you love to do. Just open your mouth and speak.
Date: September 7th
Anakin has called, texted, emailed, knocked, unlocked your door and been sent straight back across the hallway.
Unable to look him in the eye after what youâve done, youâve repeatedly ignored and pushed him away. You tell yourself itâs because youâre suspicious of his behavior, because he was spotted by your sisterâs husband at that store. Thatâs why youâre ignoring him.
It has nothing to do with the fact that you killed someone and watched your other (stalker) boyfriend kill another man and stage the scene as a hostage-murder-suicide.
Ghost left those boys in the closet, zip tied together. Youâve watched the news everyday on a continuous loop for the last three days and youâve not seen a single hint of information regarding the crime. Theyâve not been reported missing. Theyâve not escaped to your knowledge.
What was reported on however, was that a group of young men affiliated with the Alpha Sigma Psi Fraternity from the upstate university are under suspension pending investigation into their âhazing practices and illicit activitiesâ. No names have been released, just ages.
It seems that Ghost really did think of everything.
How? How does he know what to do? How did he perfectly situate a very messy crime scene to fit the narrative of frat hazing gone wrong? How did he find the proof and get it to the university? Is there actual proof?
By the time those boys are found everything will have been taken care of and seen as a closed case before itâs even opened:
A young boy, a recruit, was taken out to the lake for a weekend hazing ritual. The last of his âtrialsâ to join Alpha Sigma Phi. All was well, drinking, drugs, strip pong. A bit of good natured, easy to clean up âvandalismâ to get him loosened up before they go into his final initiation phase. Recruit finds out what horrible things his soon to be frat brothers have done and now want him to do, then he attempts to escape, kills in self defense, ties others up and plans to dump the body. Recruit digs around in the corpse to get the bullet to get rid of the evidence, realizes itâs too late for him, feels guilty and kills himself.
The only loose ends are the other guys in the closet. Why not kill them too? And if youâre going to go through all the trouble of taking out the bullet, then shoot yourself⌠whatâs the point of taking it out?
Maybe it just shows the panicked thought pattern of a scared kid who messed up, fell in with the wrong crowd and couldnât get himself out of it without violence being involved. Maybe it shows that a girl and her masked secret boyfriend tried to have a little fun and ended up committing double murder.
Ghost explained that Zach saw you, would be able to identity you if he went to the police, there was no choice. He had to kill him to protect you.
When you questioned him about his gun and if it could be traced to him he told you it was bought third hand, unregistered and given as a gift. Not to mention heâs never handled it with his bare hands and he filed off the serial numbers after he received it.
Because âyou never knowâ. What does that mean? You didnât ask because you didnât want to taint your image of him further.
There hasnât been a linear pattern of thought since that night, thoughts, ideas, monologues, even fully fleshed out daydreams have been overlapping and going straight through each other at an alarming rate. Silence is a distant memory, the constant chatter of your inner voice has become your new normal.
A voice, a real one, called out to you for the umpteenth time today. Pounding on your front door, you didnât even bother to look through the peephole. You didnât get up and tell him to fuck off. You even turned the sound off on your phone hours ago, when you checked it you had over sixty messages. Some from Anakin, some from Ghost, Luke and your sister. Even Vigo from the diner. Everyone was concerned about your mysterious absence.
You just had too much going on at once to deal with answering any messages or questions. Too much happening to explain why youâve called in for the past two days. Brain too full to comprehend the email from your English professor, wondering why youâve not turned in your online quiz.
How can you be expected to lead your normal life after killing a living being with your own hands?
September 8th, 8:43 pm
Ghost got into position, feet firmly on the ground with both hands flat on the side of the dumpster, thankful it was on wheels as he pushed the heavy container toward your bedroom window. It scraped along the wall, metal on brick making a horrendous racket that he was relieved only lasted a few seconds.
He didnât need a 20 foot ladder of his own. So naturally he swiped one from a construction site, planning to return if before the sunrise. After he precariously secured and balanced the ladder against the wall, atop the dumpster, he made his way up to your bedroom window.
Luckily this window also had an incredibly old style of latch and you hadnât replaced it. So, he was able to use his heavy duty magnet to wiggle the curved latch out of the ring that held the window shut. The only difference from your living room window was that this one was smaller, still plenty big enough for him to fit through, and a bit higher off the ground as well.
The awkward position of the ladder, paired with his teeny tiny fear of heights made it the slightest bit terrifying to enter the window feet first. Head first was the only logical solution. He was long enough to hit the floor with his hands and âwalkâ the rest of himself into your room without harming himself. So he did exactly that.
Bending at the waist he shimmied until his legs were bent at the knee to help him balance, both hands on the ground as he pulled himself forward enough to get away from the wall so that he could drop his feet down one at a time. It was awkward and uncomfortable, however worth it and necessary in his mind.
Once he gained entry and the window was shut and locked, Ghost walked out of your bedroom to hear your shower running. He was tired of waiting. Tired of attempting to give you a bit of space, alittle leeway for your healing and health. He did the only logical thing, pull out a bent paper clip to jimmy pinhole lock of your bathroom door knob.
He cheered for himself internally when he heard the faint *click* signaling heâd succeeded in popping the simple mechanism of the button lock on your side of the door. Carefully and quietly he entered the bathroom, making himself at home on the sink counter to wait until you were finished.
He closed his eyes, listening to the water pelting your soft skin and the sound of your fingertips scrubbing shampoo into your scalp, the product bubbling up to cleanse the day away. The sweet scent was soothing, heâd missed it, now that he was able to smell you, feel your presence again⌠he was a thousand times calmer. His mind clearing enough to think rationally.
You were living and breathing. You were okay.
You were tangible again. He hadnât gone a single day without you in such a long time that he felt like an addict experiencing withdrawal during your time away. He was finally getting that first hit that soothed the hurt, steadied the shakes and warmed the ice of his veins.
Spotting your robe and towel sitting nearby, he picked up the robe and held it to his chest to transfer some of his warmth to it. It was a simple gesture, one that wouldnât matter in the grand scheme of things, but you were his everything and heâd been deprived of you for too long. He considered that maybe he needed to start doing more of these micro feel-good acts to keep you satisfied with him.
It wasnât as good as tossing it in the dryer, but the dryer was at the laundromat and he really didnât want to have to climb up that ladder again. Holding it to his chest was the best he could do and he hoped it was enough. He hoped he was enough.
The water shut off, the following sound was your hands wringing out your hair, the stream of water hitting the shower floor. Pushing back the curtain you looked down at the bath mat as you stepped out, nearly slipping when you lifted your head and saw Ghost sitting quietly. He gave an awkward, tiny wave and crossed his feet at the ankles, clasping his hands in his lap around your robe.
âHow did you get in here?â Your voice quiet and distant.
âDoesnât matter.â He said while you toweled off, holding up your robe for you to slip on.
You almost refused it. He wasnât meant to be here, he hadnât told you he was coming and you took precautions to make sure he wouldnât get inside your home. Apparently, no amount of security could keep him away from you.
You couldnât bring yourself to deny him the right to treat you to such a simple gesture. Not when he looked at you the way he did. You could see it in your minds eye, the puppy dog eyes and wobbly bottom lip. He was sulking and his posture screamed it. Sighing, you turned around to insert your arms one at a time. The fabric was warm, a plush cotton hug that you didnât expect but were glad to have.
Before you could turn around Ghost used a soft touch on your shoulder to make you stand still while he searched the drawer on his left for your hairbrush. The wet strands were plastered to the back of your neck beneath your robe, his leather finger separating it to lay it over the fabric and smooth it out just a bit before starting out at the very ends, working his way up slowly.
He was quiet, it was rare that he go so long without speaking. Almost seeming like he was waiting for you to speak first, but no words would come. What was there to say?
Once he finished with your hair he hopped down from the sink countertop, guiding you to sit atop the toilet lid. He kept a hand on you the whole time he set up your hair dryer and sprayed your leave in conditioner, like he was worried youâd vanish if you werenât beneath his fingers.
The continuous droning flow of air from the hairdryer was warm and soothing. Like a cozy white noise machine. You couldâve fallen asleep with the way he was brushing through your hair as he dried it, the bristles massaging your scalp with every pass. He was taking his time, an occasional pause to separate and section off the next bit of your hair, a quick swipe of his thumb against your neck, leaning down to simulate a kiss to the top of your head with his maskâs cheek.
He didnât poke and prod you for answers like you expected. He was patient, seemingly content to be in your presence even without the use of conversation. It was surprising when you factored in all the incessant texts and voicemails heâd left you since you arrived back home.
Taking both your hands he escorted you over to the sink, gripping your hips to boost you up onto the counter top.
âOpen.â He tapped your cheek, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste, scoffing like he was offended when you tried to take it from him.
âIâll do it.â He insisted, shaking his head at you before carefully cupping your chin and pulling your bottom lip down slightly with his thumb so he could brush your teeth for you.
âReady?â He asked, rinsing off your toothbrush and passing off the mouthwash to you. Ghost watched as you swished and spit, helping you down from the sink and walking behind you with a hand on the back of your neck.
He picked out your pajamas and helped you into them, treating you as if you were a porcelain doll. It was unsettling to see him so gentle and caring. This wasnât his normal behavior. He had his sweet moments but characteristically he was moody, broody, grumpy and cynical.
âDo you think you can talk to me now sweet girl?â He asked, holding your face in his hands and swiping his thrumbs just beneath your eyes.
âYou lied to me.â You said accusingly.
âNo? What?â He asked, shaking his head like he was shocked youâd say that.
âYou lied. You said youâd never hurt me, youâd never put me in danger.â
âBaby, Iâm sorry. I didnât know theyâd be so violent. I didnât know they were that bad of people, I wouldâve never-â His voice was strained, his hands shifting so that one was on your neck, rubbing the column of your throat.
âNot that.â You scowled, âIâm talking about the gun.â
âI donât understand what you mean. I told you I had one, I told you it was in the bag! I even told you to use it if you had to. Whereâs the lie?â He asked, getting upset at your accusations.
âIt was loaded for real? Like you for real were playing Russian Roulette with my life? You couldâve killed me Ghost!â You smacked his chest angrily, shoving him away when he held out his arm to comfort you.
âNo! No it wasnât loaded I swear.â He said in a panic, standing up and going over to your still-packed bags from your weekend trip. He dug around in the pockets until he pulled out the bullet heâd carved your initials into. You noticed the last initial had been carved over in the shape of a heart.
âSee? It never even touched the inside I swear.â He said, handing it to you. Heâd saved it for you, tucking it away for you to see when you finally unpacked. You almost felt bad that youâd practically forced him to ruin the gift of the keepsake. An odd keepsake, but still.
âThen⌠then how do you explain the bullet in there? I never saw you load it.â You asked, confusion coloring your words.
Ghost sighed, trying to take your hand but you pulled it away. He grumbled, forcibly pulling it over by the wrist, lacing his fingers with yours.
âI havenât and will never knowingly put you in harms way. You are my everything, without you I am nothing.â Ghost leaned in, testing the waters to see if youâd calmed enough for him to put his arms around you.
âI would never forgive myself if you got hurt because of something Iâd done.â You let him wrap you up into his warmth, his large hand cradling your head to his chest. âMy purpose in life is to love you, keep you safe and happy. You becoming mortally wounded isnât included in that list, not even in the fine print. Quite the opposite actually.â
âI swear on my life that it wasnât ever loaded, you werenât in any danger.â He whispered, âI loaded it before we went out, just in case. I like to be prepared and Iâm so glad I was.â His other hand no stroking your hair. âIt was fully loaded, you donât remember seeing me load in another bullet for Zach did you?â
âNo.â You winced at the memory, the sound of the car reving and splashing into the lake replaying in your mind.
âExactly.â He nodded, his hands fidgeting. âMy little doe, Iâm so sorry. Iâm sorry, I didnât mean to scare you like that. You shouldâve said something instead of letting it fester up like this.â
âGhost, this has been⌠I donât know. Itâs been overwhelming okay? I canât think.â Rubbing your face and running a hand through your hair. âI ki- I hurt someone.â You choked out.
âYou did so well.â He said softly âIâm very proud of you. Iâm just sorry I wasnât out there with you so you didnât have to face it alone. I know it was scary.â
âScary?â You scowled, âit was terrifying!â You raised your voice slightly.
âI- I was worried! You said youâd be quick and it felt like it was taking too long⌠the yellinâ and noise.â Your voice was shaking and you didnât even notice it, still speaking passionately. âI was afraid you were hurt! Iâm sorry I didnât stay put like you wanted but I couldnât just sit there and not know if it was you that I was hearing!â
âThere was a whole group of them and your went in there all by yourself like an idiot!â You yelled at him in a way you hadnât done before. This wasnât out of anger or frustration, it was fear.
The concept of you being worried for him was foreign to him, heâd never thought heâd be lucky enough to have you feel so strongly for him as Ghost. He knew it was definitely not the right time to push you down and let your sweet pussy milk his cock dry. But damn it all, if he wasnât at least able to kiss you right now he may spontaneously combust.
âYou were worried about me?â He asked so quietly his words dropped in and out of the vocoder. Ghostâs hands coming up to your neck, his thumbs under your chin to tilt your head up.
âGod, youâre so stupid.â It came out much less angry than intended, more of whisper that trailed off into nothing more than a shallow breath.
There he was again, pouring out emotion without ever showing you his face. His eyes on you were comforting, like an embrace from the first sunny day in spring. The balance between you had always been a fragile thing, but it seemed that just like those sunny spring days encourage growth, something had begun to sprout roots.
Thereâs always been something so fascinating about flowers, one day theyâre nothing more that a seedling, then in a blink of an eye theyâve bloomed and you missed it. The shock of waking up to discover the most beautiful rose carved from natureâs velvet had finally adorned the thorny landscape it had to endure on its path to life.
Youâd failed to see something budding up and unfurling, now the bloom was staring into your soul, asking to be picked.
âHey, I was jus-â Ghost started, feeling a bit miffed by your words an the quick, almost eerie change in atmosphere.
âI was afraid.â A statement that could fit many situations youâd found yourself in with him, but it was being put to use in a different context now. âI was worried youâd be hurt so bad I couldnât fix it.â
âWhoa.â Ghost shifted, bringing you closer, âDonât cry. Iâm fine, Iâm right here.â
âJust bruised up a little.â He said, nuzzling into your neck, the cold, hard plastic used to be somewhat of an uncomfortable feeling on your skin, though now it was one you realized youâd miss if it were taken from you.
âYou should see the other guy.â The grin beneath his mask was so wide it could be felt in the way he tilted his head against your neck.
For the first time in days, you laughed. Tiny fairy bells making music that Ghost felt privileged to hear again, he felt honored to be the one to bring you the first bit of happiness, reprieve, after such a horrifying experience for you.
You pulled back, smiling and eyes shining with tears that youâd have no need to shed. Ghost watched, seeing the wheels turning behind your pretty eyes.
âGhost, I lo-â Just as you parted your lips to speak, sweet words on the tip of your tongue, the moment was shattered by flashing red on your bedroom TV screen. âOh my god, they found it.â
Formerly blush pink cheeks quickly drained of color as the news camera panned over a serene lake, the still waters now rippling with movement as the image zoomed in on a car being towed from the depths, the reveal showed something hanging from the drivers side door was followed by a startled yelp of shock from the in-field reporter on the scene. The video paused, the image blurred as the in-office news anchors scrambled to collect themselves. The male cohost held a finger up to his ear, receiving information live from the scene.
âApologies to our viewers, it seems that Rebecca, along with other press on site have been asked to return behind press lines. Investigators have a sensitive development in the case and are requesting all live newsfeed footage to be halted effective immediately.â The man nervously looked over to his female counterpart, sharing a nod she announced that theyâd update as soon as officials allowed it, directing the camera to join the weatherman for the latest forecast.
âAlright, no. Youâre not watching this.â GHost stood up, snatching the remote from the bed beside you and shutting the tv off. Going so far as to pop out the batteries and put them in his pocket.
âGhost, this is what Iâve been waiting to see, you canât just-â
âOh yes i can.â He growled, holding up a hand to stop you. âIâll monitor the news. Give me your phone.â He stuck his hand out in a âgive it hereâ motion as you reluctantly passed it over to him.
âWhat are you gonna do? Hold my phone hostage?â
âNo, Iâm going to seize your internet capabilities.â He snorted, pocketing your phone, gingerly pushing your head back and away like an annoyed father whoâs had enough of his kid tugging on his shirt sleeve.
âWhat? What if i need-â
âTo google when the Byzantine Empire collapsed?â He crossed his arms and chuckled when you gasped. âIâve been paying extra close attention to your search history. Iâm so glad you filled your time away from me with educational Roman lore rather than researching the est way to die.â
You couldnât refute his statement, itâs true. You werenât depressed so much as you were just bored during your self imposed isolation. âI think itâs completely normal to want a few quiet days after the weekend i had.â You huffed.
âYes, it would be different if your weekend had been a drunken rager,â He said, swatting your hand away from his waist when you decievingly attempted to wrap your arm around him as a front to steal your phone back. âItâs highly concerning and i think i had a right to be worried considering your weekend involved double homocide.â
âI guess thatâs fair.â You conceded, knowing you probably had done a real number on him. Everyone else was worried and they had no idea about the reasoning behind your temporary hermit-hood.
âIf you desperately need to know anything else regarding Ancient Rome during your no internet time, call me.â He said, crossing his arms.
âAnakin has a phone and a laptop. I bet heâd let me use those.â You countered, raising an eyebrow to see if heâd budge.
âOh Iâm sure he would.â Ghost nodded, leaning back on your dresser with his arms still crossed. âBut you arenât going to ask him are you?â
âSo what if i do?â Your eyebrows pinched together in annoyance. You didnât like the tone he was taking with you, it was so accusatory.
âWell I wouldnât do anything to stop you if thatâs what youâre asking.â He said, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. âGo ask him if youâd like.â He gestured to the bedroom door flippantly, challenging you.
âNo.â You glared, frustrated that he was winning a game you werenât prepared to play.
âWhy not?â He asked, is hand on his masks chin as if he were stroking a beard in thought. âIt wouldnât have anything to do with you ignoring the poor boy since you got back would it?â
âN-no.â You snapped back at him.âEven if it was, itâs not y-â
âTell me your love life is not my buisness one more time.â He grabbed you by the upper arm, turning you to face the door. âAnd Iâll march my happy as over there and introduce myself.â
âYou wouldâve done that already if you really wanted to.â You wriggled free from his grip, rubbing your arm.
âLetâs go then.â He said, pushing you toward your bedroom door and opening it with a dramatic flourish just to pick at you a little more.
âAnakinâs not even home, heâs at work.â You lied, at least you thought you were lying.
âYouâre right.â Ghost nodded, âMy bad, Iâll wait til our schedule lines up.â
âThink he can pencil in⌠lunch on Wednesday?â He continued, pretending to seriously look at the desk top calendar on your bedroom desk. He missed the way your lips down turned in a frown as he teased you.
âWhat do you mean Iâm right?â You asked, turning him by his shoulder to face you once more.
âHuh?â He he questioned, not having heard your question because he was distracted by the Rubix cube heâd swiped off your desk.
âStop that, pay attention.â You scowled, taking it from him and rolling you eyes when he clearly seemed annoyed. âYouâre worse than a child.â
âNo, Iâm actually pretty good at solving them, here let me-â
âOh my god can you please just back track for a second?â You huffed, watching him reach for it again, this time your facial expression stopped him before he got half way.
âSorry.â He mumbled, pulling out your desk chair to sit in, manspreading and leaning back. âWhatâs so important?â
âWhatâd you mean Iâm right?â You asked, gesturing to the door. âAbout Anakin not being home.â
âWell, heâs not home. You said so yourself.â He shrugged, reaching back out for the rubix cube. You left his hand empty, crossing your arms and walking away for a moment.
âDo you know where he is?â You asked, not turning around.
âUm no.â He laughed, standing up and appearaing behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your back to his chest. âWhy? You afraid heâs gonna come barging in or something? We could give âem a little show.â
âStop it. Iâm serious.â You snapped at him and it took him back for a moment. He slowly released you, putting his hands in his hoodie pocket.
âSorry doll, i didnât mean to make you upset.â He said in a hurt tone, wondering what exactly heâd said that had went too far. Heâs said much worse things about himself to you and heâd never gotten a reaction like that.
âYou⌠you didnât.â You sighed, turning around and glancing up at him for a moment before grumbling frustratedly. âIâve just been thinking too much. I- I donât know Iâm just worried. I havenât seen him, I donât know if heâs home or⌠and Iâve been in my head⌠itâs been so much and-â
âSweetheart.â His voice was low and warm as he addressed you, like a soothing balm.
âYou know where I am.â He said softly, the weight of his words settled in your chest. You couldnât put your finger on it, a strange tug pulled at your heart, telling you there was more to be said between those words.
Ghost sighed, returning to his spot behind you, tentatively reaching for you, giving you time to push him away again if you wanted. When you showed no signs of objection he pressed his half-hard cock against your ass, making you lean forward slightly to give himself better access to push up against your clothed cunt. A low grunt escaping him as he felt the warmth between your thighs.
âFeel that?â He asked, breathing raggedly, his hands coming to rest on your stomach before slipping one up under your shirt to settle in the valley of your breasts. âItâs me baby.â
âIâm here, Iâm right here.â His voice soft and sweet, an odd comparison to the obvious upset in his voice just moments before.
âI can fuck it all better.â His gloved hand leaving your stomach in favor of honing in on the bundle of nerves hidden in your panties.
How could he expect anything other than enthusiastic consent when he spoke to you in that tone? The textured leather of his middle finger circling your clit in a feather light touch. His cock twitching, the rumble of the groan trapped in his chest resonated through you as he held you close. This wasnât the normal experience with Ghost, this didnât feel like a thrill or the promise of something new.
This felt meaningful and it scared you.
You nodded, not trusting your own voice, too afraid to speak your thoughts and feelings into existence. He let out a sigh of relief that you agreed, though internally he was preparing himself to hold back. Heâd been so pent up, so needy and now he was here and you were vulnerable in a different way than ever before⌠he couldnât in good conscience fuck you like a sex doll. Not even if he really, really wanted to. (He did.)
âSit, get comfy.â He promoted you, tapping your ass with two fingers to prod you along so that he could turn off the lights and close your curtains. âUh, I got rid of your pink silk thingyâŚâ he said apologetically, hating that he had to use the rough, black cotton bandana on you again.
You didnât answer, it was too difficult to separate your inner voice from your flow of spoken dialogue, having the two mixing right now would be disastrous. You just nodded, keeping your lip tucked away behind your teeth.
Ghost gingerly tied on the blindfold so he could remove his gloves and touch you with his bare hands, warm palms and rough fingertips dancing across your flesh as he removed the pajamas he put on you earlier. He was taking his sweet time to put you at ease, but it only served to make you feel⌠anxiety.
âCanât see nothing, right doll?â He asked, smoothing his palm over your thigh, rubbing the blunt point of the maskâs nose through your folds, making you jump at the unfamiliar feeling.
âMm-mm.â You shook your head, chewing your cheeks while a wave of nerves washed across your abdomen, feeling him lift up slightly to removed his mask.
Soft lips met yours after feeling his bare chest move up your body, settling his muscular body over yours. His pierced tongue sliding across your lips, clacking your teeth on its descent into your mouth to caress and lick the sweetness inside. His boxers barely containing the warm length pressed firmly against your wet core.
Rough, careful hands brushed over your tender flesh in the most sensual manner possible. It was nearly unbearable, the tingling heat that formed in the pit of your stomach from just the simple act. Ghost rutting his hips against you to give you the friction you so badly desired, his cock twitching when you moaned against his lips.
He hummed lowly, nodding in understanding as he kissed and nipped his way between your thighs to nestle his tongue into your sopping entrance, licking and slurping up the slick mess gathered there. The bridge of his nose bumping against your clit, the pressure deliciously fleeting. Those strong hands of his massaging and kneading your breasts, moving down your sides to your hips, one staying there to hold you in place while the other slowly twisted two fingers into your cunt, pumping them deep before withdrawing almost completely, just to do it all over again.
âGhost?â You panted, mewling pitifully. He couldnât answer verbally, not when you were so close, he didnât want to risk losing his rhythm, he didnât want to risk you identifying his voice without the mask. So instead he reached up his unoccupied hand to cup your cheek and brush his fingers over your lips.
âSâgood.â The soft, slurred praise dripping with something more.
He smiled, wide and smug as he wrapped his lips around your clit and flicked his tongue rapidly, coaxing those warm and fuzzy tendrils to wrap around you just a little tighter before snapping and bringing you the rush of ecstasy he knew you needed. It took an unreasonable amount of self control for him not to poke fun at you for cumming so quickly, having to stifle his snicker in the fat of your thigh.
After youâd released him from the iron grip of your legs, he lifted up, not bothering to wipe his face before he put his mask back on. Forcing your legs back apart despite the quiver in them, he tugged down his boxers and nudged the tip against your clit, sliding it through your folds until he notched it in the dip of your cunt.
âDonât whine darlinâ.â He chuckled, hearing you squeak from the sensitivity as he pushed inside slowly. âI know itâs been a couple days since youâve had a proper fuckinâ. Iâll take care of you.â
With a shaky inhale he plunged into your depths, bottoming out just to circle his hips, making sure you felt him in every corner of your tight cunt. He leaned down, resting his maskâs forehead on your collarbone, moaning loudly at the feeling of your velvety walls fluttering around his throbbing length.
Ghost had never fucked you like this before. Heâd never been gentle, yet here he was, treating you with the utmost care and only the most tender touches. His calloused thumb finding its way between your bodies to circle and roll your clit just enough to have you bucking up against him.
âWhyâre you beinâ so sweet tâme?â You breathed out, eyebrows pinched together and upturned.
âI wanna give you what you need.â He nuzzled the cold plastic of his mask into the side of your neck, rolling his hips to drive himself deeper, to angle his cock perfectly.
âYeah?â You whimpered, arching your back, your breasts pushing up against him.
âCourse I do, my little doe.â He cooed, sliding an arm under you to press you even closer to him. âAlways.â
He had you so needy, so willing. Wet and panting, a mess of sweet sweat and slick. There wasnât a thought in your brain other than him. His hands, his cock, his voice, his lips. Ghost was drawing inhuman noises from your kiss bitten lips, each and every breath bringing a new form of praise to his ears.
Ghost had you so fucked out, so blissful and beautifully undone that it crept up your throat and clawed its way out. Youâd thought it, over and over and over again, the lines between your inner and outer voice were crossed and was something that could never be taken back.
âGhost⌠love you.â Your soft lilt reaching his ears, his movements halting in disbelief.
âWhat did you just say?â He asked, his voice cracking under the weight of your confession.
âI- Iâm sorry I shouldnât have-â You started, grabbing his wrist to stop his shaking hand from removing your blindfold. âN-no donât.â
âBut-â He stuttered, unsure how to handle the fiery mix of emotions that rammed through his chest. âI want you to⌠donât you want to see?â
âI want to.â You admitted softly, though you shook your head. âBut I donât think I can.â You whispered, feeling the hurt and confusion that filled him up and spilled over.
âI⌠I donât-â He seemed at a loss for words, stuttering over the syllables until it was a jumble.
You heard rustling, felt his weight lifting from the bed and the creak of leather as he put his gloves back on. His socked feet shuffled across the floor so he could retrieve his boots and stomp his feet back inside, not bothering to lace them or even tuck the laces inside. He tossed your clothes at you, the fabric landing on your stomach with a dull *thwack*. You heard something clatter against your nightstand and before you even had time to form a coherent thought, he had slammed your bedroom door shut. Leaving you naked, alone and in the unforgiving darkness behind your blindfold.
September 8th, 9:54 pm
Anakin was overly tired and much too distracted to pay attention to what was going on around him. He wasnât expecting anything other than the droning of his bedroom fan and the occasional creak of the floorboards in the apartment above his.
Perhaps it was complacency, maybe it was his overconfidence, or it may have been that he was simply distraught; he failed to do his after Ghost routine. Yes the mask was under his dresser. Sure, the backpack and his boots were hiding in the top of his closet just beneath the crocheted monstrosity his mother called a blanket. But his hoodie and jeans were crumpled in the floor, inside out, but it didnât really matter, after all they were black like rest of his wardrobe.
Even worse? Heâd left on his socks. His long black socks with lime green toes and heels.
âWhat the fuck do you want man? Iâm busy.â A male voice grumbled.
âCan you be un-busy? Iâm out.â
Anakin heard a sigh, then the low din of the bar in the background as his friend conferred with someone else.
âApril? Can you be me for like 30 minutes?â Trevor asked. âCâmon, itâs Anakin⌠No, you canât take it to him. I donât care! You owe me for yesterday and you know it. Youâre sure? Thank you babe, Iâll be back quick I promise.â
âI can be un-busy with time constraints.â Trevor said with a slight laugh. âWhat are you wanting? Iâm walking to my car right now.â
âA quarter.â Anakinâs voice was scratchy, he cleared his throat and swallowed hard. âWhat⌠what else have you got these days, huh Trev?â
âAnakin you better not be telling people that I-â
âNo, you idiot Iâm asking for myself.â
âI thought you didnât do anything other than smoke?â Trevor asked, the slightest hint of concern seeping past the curiousness in his tone. Anakin no longer heard the constant background noise of the bar, instead it was the crunch of gravel and the loud slam of a car door.
âI donât!â Anakin snapped, quickly correcting his harshness. âI- I donât. I was just curious thatâs all.â
âWhatever.â Trevor snorted, starting up his car. âWell Iâll just bring my whole bag in case youâre more than âcuriousâ.â
âAlright, yeah thatâs⌠okay.â Anakin nodded to himself and cracked his knuckles, holding his phone between his cheek and his shoulder. âWhen you get here Iâm on the right side of the building, Iâll be out on the fire escape.â
Anakin opened up the large window and left it open, the cool air flowing in and clearing his apartment of the nervous energy heâd let build up. He paced the floor, talking to himself under his breath while running both hands through his hair. It was a short drive from the bar to the apartment building, Trevor dusted off his hands and climbed the drop-down ladder until he reached the landing, walking up the stairs to where Anakin sat.
âDamn. You look like shit.â Trevor scoffed, holding out his hand to clasp his with Anakinâs, pulling him up to his feet.
âI know.â Anakin grumbled, climbing in his window and standing with his hands on his hips.
âHuh,â Trevor looked around the living space, a tiny smirk in the corner of his lips. âDidnât take you for a girly girl.â He snorted, picking up a large Kuromi Squishmallow.
âFuck off.â Anakin snatched it back and held it in his crossed arms against his chest. âItâs a pillow.â
âOh, sure.â Trevor snorted, a big grin on his face while he unzipped and searched through his bag to pull out the correct ziploc bag with the quarter of weed Anakin asked for. âSâokay. I wonât tell.â
âI believe i deserve a discount for possible emotional scarring in the event I come to work tomorrow and your little girlfriend starts laughing at me.â Anakin snatched the baggie from him and laughed.
âIâll let you have it for free if you let me take your picture with it.â Trevor grinned, pulling out his phone.
âThrow in some K and weâll call it a deal.â Anakin said with a smirk.
âDone!â Trevor snapped the picture and cackled to himself, tossing his phone in is bag and doling out two pills, dropping them in the ziploc bag of weed Anakin opened.
âGet out before I kick you out.â Anakin snorted, shoving Trevor toward the window, watching him leave before he turned around and hurried to his bedroom. Grabbing his large glass bong from his dresser along with his cigarettes and a lighter, he returned to the fire escape to grind and pack a full bowl of pot. Packing it in with the butt of his lighter before lighting it and taking a long rip. Holding his breath for a moment, letting out a cloud of smoke as he leaned back on the rusted metal steps.
Rolling one of the pills between his forefinger and thumb. Anakin stopped for a moment crossing his feet at the ankles and looking up to the nighttime sky, light pollution in the city was alm,ost always too great to make out many of the dimmer stars. Though after the last few days it seemed luck had finally turned around, even if it was only just the clear sky, it was better than nothing. Hit after hit, Anakin let himnself melt into the warm fuzzy feeling while searching for constellations.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
You tried to relax, to think rationally. It would do no good for anyone if you went looking for trouble. Life was already complicated enough, it was bubbling up day after day and you didnât want to be the one who let it boil over. Your little devil was back and itâs whispers were louder than before. Rightfully, you felt you deserved the truth. It couldnât be that bad. After all, youâd already ruined everything by not keeping your mouth shut.
Ghost did it all the time.
You moved quickly before your confidence ran out, finding him on the fire escape after using the key heâd entrusted you with long ago when youâd given him a key to your apartment. You were startled to see him, Ghost had said he was out and you hadnât planned on him being home. This was supposed to be a quick in and out, a bit of snooping to put your mind at ease. The space reeked of weed even though heâd closed the window, or at least partially closed it.
He hadnât noticed you yet, too busy relighting the bowl on taking another long rip. It was almost unfair how easily he distracted you. He always looked so pretty in everything he did. The way his adamâs apple bobbed in his throat when he tilted his head back to blow out the smoke, his eyebrows pinching together with the deep inhale from the bong, his hands flexing as he struck the lighter and brought it to life.
He seemed⌠preoccupied enough. Sneaking around couldnât be that difficult, could it? Heâd never know if you did it quickly enough, you were already here, you may as well try it.
Staying closer to the wall you went to his kitchenette, youâd learned one of the best ways to tell if a man has been cheating is to check the fridge, trash and sink. If thereâd been another woman in here, youâd most likely find evidence there and not have to venture any farther. Surprisingly, it seemed Anakinâs normally well kept space was seeing less attention than usual. Youâd never seen more than a cup or two in his sink at once, now one whole side of the sink was stacked with dishes. You picked up the glasses, looking at the rims for any sign of lipgloss or lipstick, but found none.
You kept glancing over at the window, making sure Anakin wasnât gathering his stuff to come back inside. There were no âgirlyâ drinks in his fridge, other than the ones youâd left there and none of them were missing. The wine bottle youâd gotten a week ago was still there, unopened. The trash showed no signs of anything suspicious, not even the dust from the vacuum held a clue to any wrongdoings.
It wasnât enough. You knew in your gut that there was something going on, regardless of another woman being involved or not. The thought of Anakin cheating had given you plenty of time to reflect on things you wouldâve otherwise not given a second glance to.
Another look toward the window proved that Anakin was still busy, engrossed in his own world. Swallowing your guilt with a thick gulp, you made a quick dash across the line of sight from the window. Once you safely reached the samll hallway, you stood between the two doors on either side of you. The courage youâd gathered up to sneak in was wearing out and fast, the bathroom would be the quickest, the bedroom would possibly hold more than you could bare to digest at the moment.
Taking a deep breath you opened the bathroom door and closed the door, standing in the dark for a moment before flipping on the light. After your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, you got to work, nothing in the trash. No changes in the shower products, the cabinet hidden behind the mirror had been rerarranged but it seemed like it was only done to clean the shelves. The cabinet below the sink held itâs usual cleaning products, extra shower stuff and towels. Nothing seemed out of place and you were beginning to feel even more guilty than you were origionally. Closing the cabinets you moved on the two drawers along the side closest to the door. The top one opened up just fine, nothing but jewlery for his piercings and his cologne, along with other random bits and bobs.
Pulling out the bottom drawer you found that it stopped halfway, getting jammed by something and preventing you from pulling it all the way out. You wiggled it and shuffled through the items inside the drawer, feeling around to see if you could dislodge whatever it was that prevented it from being opened. You reached the back of the drawer, nothing inside seemed to be the cause, so you decided to reach a bit farther and feel along the back of the drawer and the walls. Thinking that maybe something had fallen from the top drawer and gotten jammed in the tracks for the bottom drawer.
Then, there was a noise. The window. Quietly shutting the drawer you listened, hearing Anakin muttering to himself and his footsteps stopping, the clunk of his bong hitting the coffee table and the sound of him plopping down on the couch. You had no choice but to pretend like you meant to be here, you were here to see him.
While you were busy preparing your âi missed you, Iâm sorryâ speech, Anakin turned on his tv and Xbox, waiting for it to boot up and load Fallout. He wasnât ready for bed, he wasnât willing to be completely alone with his thoughts, so a distraction was in order. He jumped up from the couch and slunk into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge and returning to the couch. Kneeling in front of the coffee table he used the beer bottle to crush up one of his pills, sliding his wallet over to him he pulled out his debit card and chopped it finely, lining it up on the edge of the table. He cracked open the beer bottle and took a swig, holding it in his mouth while leaning down to snort half the line. Swallowing the beer to help with the bitterness of the powdered pill, getting ready to start the process over again.
You slowly turned the doorknob, stepping out into the short hallway to see Anakin kneeled beside the couch, his head tilted back sniffing and wiping his nose like it itched. He swallowed, letting out a sigh and a hiccuped laugh, bring the bottle to his lips for another drink.
âAnakin?â You gasped. His head snapped over to the side, bloodshot eyes wide and confused as he stared at you, choking on his beer, coughing and spitting it out accidentally. He stood up slowly, keeping his balance by laying a hand on the couchâs armrest.
âH-hey sweetheart.â He gave you an awkward, sheepish smile, eyes darting around from the embrassment of being caught. Caught doing something you didnât ever expect to see. âI missed you baby, âmere.â His words slightly slurred and his actions not quite right as he beckoned you over.
âI-i had a whole apology speech planned out⌠i didnât-â You stuttered, looking him up and down, âYou- are you okay?â
âOh, donât worry âbout it darlinâ.â He casually waved your concerns away as if it were silly of you to ask such a thing. âJust uh, well it doesnât reall thing. âJust uh, well it doesnât really matter anymore now does it? Youâre here now and youâre all i need.â
âNo, you canât just brush this off Anakin.â You said, walking over to him and looking down on the coffee table and what was left of the white powdery substance. âWhat is that?â
âBaby,â Anakin sighed, running his hands nervously through his hair. âIâm sorry okay? I just needed something to⌠to take my mind off stuff.â
âWhat stuff?â You asked, eyebrows furrowed in irritation at his vagueness. âUs stuff?â
âWell, yeah.â He nodded, his jaw set in a hard line while he shifted on his feet. âWhereâve you been? You disappeared on me.â He whispered, reaching out to take your hands in his, though you swiftly shut down his attempt.
âWhere have you been?â You turned the attention back where it belonged, on him.
âHome.â He said, gesturing to his living space. âCalled Trevor.â He motioned to the coffee table and the various paraphernalia. He tried reaching out for you again and was rejected once more.
âWhat did i do?â He asked, his face scrunched up in pain from your reluctance to touch him.
âI donât know. You tell me.â You crossed your arms and stared him down.
âPlease, baby just talk to me.â He whined, gently grabbing your shoulders and making you sit down. âYou left for your trip and you were fine, you come home and you treat me like Iâve got the plague.â
âWhat is that stuff?â You pointed to the table angrily.
âKetamine. Your turn, tell me whatâs going on.â
âoh my god, no you canât just expect me to let that go so easily Anakin!â You huffed spotting the other pill in the ziploc bag. âMore? Really?â
âDonât judge me, itâs been a long time since Iâve done this kinda thing.â He said angrily, pulling it from your hands and fishing out the pill. âLook, Iâll get rid of it.â
He grumbled, standing up and dragging you by the arm along with him toward the bathroom where he held the pill in front of your face, dramatically lowering it down over the toilet and dropping it in.
âThere, flush it.â He crossed his arms, nodding toward the plunger. You rolled your eyes and pushed down on it, watching the little white pill disappear. âSee? No big deal, itâs not like Iâm some kind of pill head.â
âNow. Your turn.â Anakin walked on jelly legs back into the living room, sitting down on the couch with his hands behind his head, manspreading in his boxers and tshirt.
âIâm⌠I donât know I guess Iâm mad at you.â âIâm mad at myself.â You sighed, kicking off your shoes and sitting beside him.
âMe? What did I do?â He made a face, pulling up his bottom lip and licking one of the hoops in his snake bites.
âDid you go to a sex shop?â You asked flatly, narrowing your eyes.
âWhile you were gone? No.â He snorted, wincing when you smacked his shoulder. âOw! Fuck.â He groaned, running his hand over it to roughly massage it.
âCrybaby.â You huffed, crossing your arms.
âJesus someone shit in your cheerios didnât they?â He grumbled, rolling his arm in a wide circle with his arm bent at the elbow.
âI meant like in the time weâve been together. Have you been to a sex shop? Laurenâs husband swears he saw you at one.â You accused, watching him closely for any telling body language.
âYeah I did.â He nodded, looking at you like youâd grown an extra head. âAm I not allowed to buy stuff for our sweet love makinâ?â
âWhatâd you buy? I havenât seen anything new.â You asked, ignoring his ill-placed tease.
âSome lube, jewelry for my dick piercing. Sâgot a little vibrate-y thingy.â He gestured to his crotch.
âThatâs it?â You asked, still uncertain. âWhy didnât you say something?â
âIt was a surprise! Gods whatâs your deal baby?â He asked, getting up, steadying himself with a hand on your head before he walked off to his bedroom. You tracked his movements without following. Glancing down at the floor you did a double take.
âSee look? Here.â He came back, holding up the two items and shaking them. The jewelry hadnât even been taken out of the package yet.
âDid you get new socks?â You asked, looking from his feet to his face and back again.
âWhat are you the fucking FBI now?â He scoffed, obviously getting agitated at your insistence on questioning him. âYeah theyâre new. Would you like to see my receipt officer?â
âI donât like your attitude.â You scowled.
âYou donât like my- oh, you know what?â Anakin stomped back over to you and grabbed you roughly by the jaw. âI donât appreciate being interrogated by a bitch half my size.â
âAnakin Skywalker!â You gasped, pushing his hand away. Heâd never acted like that with you before, it was startling, confusing⌠could one pill have really made that big of a personality change so quickly?
âI think Iâve earned the right to be a little bit of a dick donât you think?â He asked, staring you down as he pointed at your chest, poking you aggressively as he toward over where you sat on the couch. âYou planned a trip without me, didnât tell me until you were getting ready to leave. Youâre gone all weekend, youâve been back a few days and havenât even spoken to me and then you show up to my place and start questioning me like Iâve done something wrong!â
âWhat about you huh?â Anakin yelled, getting upset in a way youâd never seen him do before. âI think I should be the one asking you questions!â
âAni! Ani calm down itâs okay!â Frantically you tried to calm him down, standing up and putting your hands on his chest in an attempt to soothe him. âIâm sorry Anakin I- I shouldnât have done that. Iâve just⌠Iâve been on edge lately and thatâs no fault of yours.â
âDamn right itâs not.â He muttered. Walking the room in a quick back and forth line.
He breathed in deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Suddenly he dropped both hands down to his sides and sat down on the couch. Leaning over with his head between his knees as if he felt nauseous.
âIâm sorry.â Anakin sighed, clearing his throat, clasping his hands together behind his head, resting them on the nape of his neck. âIâm really sorry princess. That was uncalled for.â
âAnakin, letâs just take a second okay?â You said quietly, making your way to the fridge to grab yourself a water. By the time you unscrewed the cap, Anakin had already chugged the rest of his beer.
âCan we⌠how about we just forget it? Letâs just pretend I got home today.â You suggested, a hopeful look on your face, your plan having been so horribly thrown askew that you knew there was no salvaging it.
âWe can start over.â You suggested quietly. es, you were terribly upset with him but it was **so hard to stay that way. Especially when he had every right to be angry right back at you. âIâm sorry too. Please? Let me make it rightâŚâ
âYou shouldnât be the one apologizing. It should be me.â Anakin whispered, a lump forming in his throat.
âYou gotta know that I love you princess. I love you so, so, so much.â He led you back to the couch, holding your hand and pulling you into his lap. âIâd never do anything to hurt you, never. I know that youâre disappointed in meâŚâ
He looked up at you with glacier blue eyes, ones that had started to melt. Salty tears filling up to the brim and ready to flow over in a hot trail down his cheeks. He was holding his breath like he was scared to breathe, like he was afraid that if he did, heâd be pushed over the edge.
âI made a really bad choice and Iâm so sorry.â He said quietly, his voice small and fragile. âIt was wrong of me. I know that.â
âHey, itâs okay.â You frowned, carding your fingers through his hair. âItâs alright, it was just this once right? Only the one pill?â
âThatâs notâŚâ Anakin sniffled, hiccuping before he tilted his head back on the couch cushions,covering his face with his hands. He let out a few half-sobs, stopping himself by forcing them down and holding his breath. âI donât, I didnât mean to do it okay?â
âI didnât mean to. Iâm sorry. I couldnât help it.â He spoke through short, shallow inhales, his head jerking with each labored breath. âItâs bad. Iâm bad.â
âAnakin no, no youâre not bad! Why would you say that?â You shook your head, eyebrows pinched together. âYouâre the best thing to ever happen to me.â
âBut it- I never shouldâve⌠I shouldnât have done it.â Anakin swallowed, his adamâs apple bobbing in his throat. He started to bounce the knee you werenât sitting on, pressing his forefinger and thumb over his eyes and using his other fist to rhythmically pound on his thigh. âIâm so sorry. I donât deserve you, I never have. I never will. Youâre too good. Youâre so good.â
His voice was squeaky, chopped up and uneven. The large, strong hands youâd come to love settled on your hips and waist, squeezing slowly, rubbing up and down as if he were trying to comfort you.
âCâmere.â He hiccuped, keeping his eyes closed as he wiped his cheek on his shoulder, pulling you flush to his chest. âI love you. Please donât leave me.â
âPlease, I promise Iâll be better. I swear.â He whispered, his words hot and breathy against your skin as he buried his face in your neck. âDonât leave me.â
âAnakin Iâm not⌠Iâm not leaving you over something so, well I donât want to call it insignificant. Because itâs not, itâs serious.â You said calmly, your own tears threatening to break through. It was so difficult to see him so upset, it was clear he felt immense guilt for this. âBut itâs okay, Iâm here, Iâm not going anywhere. Youâre safe. Youâll be just fine.â
âYou wonât go?â He sniffled, squeezing you tighter. âYou promise?â
âCourse I promise.â You nodded, the guilt of your previous thoughts, your original plan for coming here, all the things youâve done⌠it all came rushing to the forefront.
âWhy donât you take a shower, itâll help you feel better.â You suggested, really only wanting a few minutes of peace to sulk alone. âJust shout if you need help.â
âI donât need your help to wash my ass.â He snorted, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands, taking in a stuttered breath.
âI donât know Ani, youâre really wobbly.â You said sympathetically.
âYou can shower with me as much as you want, but you will not be showering me.â He glared at you, a small smile tugging on his lips. âSponge baths are the only exception.â
âOh my god.â You rolled your eyes, thankful that he was always able to lift the weight of heavy emotion off of any situation, with just a few words.
Anakin just smiled and ruffled up your hair before trudging off to the bathroom. Youâd never seen him switch up emotions that quickly and so fiercely. His guilt ridden sadness was so intense you feared he may have went into a full fledged panic attack if you hadnât have been able to de-escalate it fast enough. Then, not too long before that was his flip of the switch anger and aggression.
The moment the bathroom door shut you cleaned up the coffee table, wiping it down to make sure none of the pill powder was left behind. You moved to put away his bong but thought⌠maybe you deserved a hit after all the trouble youâve had. So you had one, only one. Someone here needed to be sober and Anakin was obviously not the man for the job.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âSo what do you do there? When that happens?â You asked, pointing to the tv screen while Anakin was playing Fallout 76.
âWhat? Get rad poisoning?â He asked, sitting comfortably with his feet propped up while you laid your head in his lap. âI can find a doctor, eat some fungus.â He snorted. âBut Iâd have to find them first so I just use RadAway. This little thingy right there.â
He pointed, showing you what he was talking about, explaining it and the different functions of the Pip-Boy his character uses to track radiation, inventory and the like.
âOkay but youâre wearing a radiation suit right?â You asked confusedly. âSo why do you still get poisoned?â
âBaby, itâs just like real life. The suits only withstand so much, plus mines already damaged so itâs not as effective.â He chuckled, looking down at you to play with your hair for a moment while he waited for the next room to load after picking a lock.
âOh. Okay yeah that makes sense.â You giggled at yourself, enjoying the way he gave you attention even when he was preoccupied.
âSo whatâs the quest?â You asked, shifting a little bit to get more comfortable.
âUh gotta figure out what happened to this lady and her Order.â He said nonchalantly, âthereâs supposed to be some kind of jewelry along the way some where. The Eye of Ra I think?â
âWhatâs that do?â You asked.
âThatâs a great question. I donât have a fuckinâ clue.â Anakin hummed under his breath, practically trashing the room he was in while searching around.
âYâknow, this game is kinda cute.â You grinned, obviously trying to tease him.
âItâs not cute. Itâs apocalyptic, how is that cute?â He laughed, looking down at you and tugging your hair playfully.
âItâs all the retro stuff! Itâs cute.â You shrugged, pointing to a few different random items on the screen. âI like the music too.â
âI know you do.â He laughed, glancing down again before refocusing on his tasks.
You stayed quiet for a while, just listening to him self-commentate and curse under his breath, it was nice. Normal. The most normal interaction youâd had since before your trip to the cabin. Even after the argument⌠disagreement? Youâd just had, Anakin still made you feel safe and secure, loved and cared for. Even when he was in his own little world, focused on something else, he was still doting on you with soft touches and quick glances of adoration. He was so easy to forgive, he made things easy to forget.
He made it easy to be at ease.
Curled up next to him with a comfy blanket tucked around you, his thigh for a pillow. The warm cedar scent of his soap and the soft scent of his laundry. It was all a big, cozy bundle of security.
While he waited on another load screen, you began drifting to sleep with his hand in your hair and his soft whispers of sweetness. Your eyes fluttering shut, a blissful and serene peace lighting up your face; only to turn pale and ashen as your body jolted awake at a familiar tune.
Youâd finally placed that song. Youâd heard it here, right here.
Part Seventeen
Tag-List:
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Tommy tries not to stay too long because Mareep gets sad when she's lonely.
She can't tell him this - she's a sheep and all. But she shows it in the way she nuzzles her gentle head into Tommy's chest when he returns, as if she's trying to push out all those sharp and bunched up feelings that get stuck there. They're not bad feelings though. Not good feelings either.
Just feelings. A lot of fucking feelings.
But Tommy likes visiting the cabin. Even back when, it always felt so far removed from everything else. So quiet, not always in the positive sense. He loved it and he hated it. That seems to sum up about everything he remembers from that time.
(He went in once, the first time he visited. Not anymore. Everything was covered in dust, hollow and empty, and Tommy couldn't breathe for reasons beyond the stifled air.)
Being there doesn't hurt the same.
Tommy still marvels at that. Yes, it still hurts and yes, it always will. But there's more than the hurt now. He remembers the laughter and the stupid jokes and the bench and Henry and man, does it feel as if he's aged a decade. He hasn't. He's young. And there's so much ahead of him.
Then the snow shifts behind him with the soft crunching of footsteps. He turns around, and a person Tommy has thought about pretty much every other day for the last eight months is standing against the treeline.
"Hullo," Technoblade says, as if they have seen each other yesterday. He looks a little less exhausted, and a little less jumpy than Tommy has ever seen him before. Tommy's hand curls around the handle of his sword and then relaxes.
"Hey," he says. Then he swallows. "I didn't know you still came around here."
"I don't," Techno says. "Just came to pick up some stuff I left behind."
"Yeah?"
Techno walks around him in a little arch, and in a way that keeps him facing Tommy at least from the side, never the back. Tommy hates that this is who they are now.
And then Techno scoffs lightly, kicking at some rocks Tommy had been piling into a tower once when he was deep in thought. "Bruh, you're not ruining my property value again, are you?"
Automatically, Tommy laughs. Bright and sudden, and sincere. "Wha- Fuck you, you just said you don't live here anymore."
"I could be on my landlord arc," Techno says dryly.
Tommy should leave it at that. The part deep inside him that still feels raw and scared - as if he's sixteen again and the ocean is endless before him - recoils at all of this. But Tommy knows that part of him can be wrong, sometimes, in how it reacts to things. In how it refuses to embrace change.
"What have you been doing?" he asks. Techno watches him for a moment, a little guarded. He shrugs.
"Farmin'," Techno answers after that small second of hesitation. "Hibernating. Just doing my own thing, away from everybody. I'm done being hounded by people." He brushes some hair from his face, longer now than when he was living on this server. Tommy doesn't think he has never seen Techno without fresh scars or bandaged knuckles. It suits him.
"Sounds nice," Tommy says. He thinks about his little cottage, and Tubbo's honey, and how he's been starting to grow his own flowers.
"It is," Techno agrees.
Tommy leaves quickly after that. But when he returns two days later, there is a glint of round netherite hanging from one of the fence post. A compass with an emerald inlaid in the back, that points to a place very far away.
Tommy doesn't think he's quite ready to follow it. But someday he will be.
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could you write abt a daughter of hecate reader shipped with luke castellan? except that itâs before he turned evil, and itâs very very cutesy - sneaking out at 3am to meet, holding hands under the table, laughing as they spar etc etc. i donât have anything particular in mind, but i would love to see this (also you asked for reqs sooo đĽ°
-đŽ
âÂˇË ŕź * sweet peace
warnings: established relationship, pre tlt so reader stays in hermes cabin pairing: luke castellan x daughter of hecate a/n: I needed to get my mind of all this crazy shit so I decided to finish this up
i. sneaking out
you were woken from your peaceful slumber when a hand shakes your shoulder and your name repeatedly being whispered. you groan into your pillow but the culprit doesnât stop, instead flipping you over on your back. your eyes flutter open to admittedly- your favorite sight. now not so much âfavoriteâ
âwhat do you want, luke?â
he cracks a grin when your eyes open. âI want to go outâ
your brows furrow. âgo out? Itâs the middle of the night!â
âexactly!â
you pout and sit up, facing luke. ânights are for sleeping. Iâm not sure if you knew thatâ
lukeâs grin turns into a smirk. you donât know if you want to kiss him or hit him. âyouâve told me a few timesâ
an angry glare appears on your face. luke laughs
âI am not âgoing outâ in the middle of the night just because you want toâ
âIâll get you a few extra strawberries at breakfastâ
you sigh and throw your hands up dramatically. âokay, fine. let me get a sweatshirtâ
luke holds a hand out for you to take, which you do gratefully. you lean into luke, lips almost touching but you whisper an âI will remember that offerâ before walking away to search for one of your lukeâs sweatshirts
ŕŠâŠâ§âË
you arrive minutes later at your destination: a secluded area near the lake. you recognize this location as the place where you and luke first met. you had just gotten claimed by your mother, upset because she didnât have a cabin for her demigod offsprings. luke found you skipping rocks and sat beside you as you informed him as to why you were in the disappointed mood
he listening attentively as you ranted about the situation and he spoke comforting words to help you overcome your struggles. you were thankful to have him by your side as you were still new to camp. and you later had him confess he was following you like a creep
luke guides you back against a tree, kissing you once almost eagerly before you place a hand to his chest and pull away
âif you dragged me out here just to make out Iâm going to kill you and bury your body under this very ground we stand onâ
âyouâd miss meâ
you shrug. âIâd visit youâ
âthen when I donât respond?â
you frown. âthen maybe Iâd miss youâ
luke smiles and kisses you again. once, and then twice before he pulls back. a soft smile appears on your face at lukeâs look of tenderness. you cup his face and run your thumb over his scar before leaving gentle kisses along it. you feel his face heat up at the action. you pull back and luke takes this moment to bury his face in your neck, arms around your waist, yours around his shoulders
this was definitely better than sleeping
ii. breakfast
although your lack of sleep the previous night was disappointing you couldnât help the bright smile on your face. a plate full of strawberries in front of you, an absolute dream in your eyes. luke watched lovingly as you ate each red berry, not understanding how it was humanly possible for you to eat sixteen of them in under five minutes
âIâm starting to think you like those strawberries more than meâ luke jokes
âmaybe. maybe notâ you shrug
âshould I be worried?â
you purse your lips before biting another berry. âstrawberries are inanimate, therefore they canât kiss me backâ
âwhatâre you saying?â
âIâm saying I would chose you over strawberries. although they do come close to firstâ
âare you saying you love me, moonbeam?â
you sigh. âIâm saying I like kissing youâ
luke frowns. âyou hurt my heartâ
âyou should visit the infirmary then, theyâll fix you right upâ
âI love you tooâ
luke takes your hand underneath the table intertwining them and giving it a gentle squeeze, causing a grin to form on your lips. you run your thumb over his knuckles as a reciprocation
he was definitely better than strawberries
#xoxochb#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo series#pjo fandom#percy jackson#pjo#percy series#pjo hoo toa#pjo spoilers#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan fic#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan
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GUILTY AS SIN? | Joel Miller â PART TWO
SUMMARY: after a chance encounter, joel miller is faced with a dilemma. will he be able to resist temptation, or will he crumble beneath your mystifying gaze?
PAIRING: dads ex-best-friend!joel miller x afab!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.6k.
WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, 18+ WORK BELOW THE CUT. soft!joel, i yearn for this amidst all of the angsty, grumpy old man joel. some dialogue that melts me. dirty talk. pervy joel. mentions of f&m masturbation. pussy eating. fingering <3 protected piv cus if youâre gonna fuck your dadâs ex best friend, then you need to at least do something sensible!! sarah calls joel while youâreâŚyano.
happy birthday joel <3
PART ONE
Should I really be doing this?
Joelâs inner monologueâand conscienceâis about to implode, firing fragments of stupidity into each corner of his brain it seems. Because thatâs the only way this could be described rationally.
Heâs fucking stupid. He has to be. To come back to Point Pleasant, for one, to admit that he has a crush on his ex-best-friendâs daughter another, and then take her HOME with him.
To the house that your parents used to go to every Saturday night for parties, gatherings, meals. Joel used to host Superbowl Sundays there, too, which were arguably some of the best days had by your father and something heâll always remember regardless of the precarious terms that heâs on with Joel.
That house would be your after-school retreat, when you and Sarah were best friends growing up. Youâd spend hours there playing games, riding your bikes in the yard, telling one another your deepest darkest secrets.
You took your first sip of alcohol in that house at a party thatâto this dayâyou and Sarah still keep secret from your parents. You had your first fight thereâat the same party, actuallyâand the scar from the Jack Daniels bottle still sits uncomfortably above your right bicep. The scar that your dad still believes is from you cutting yourself on chicken wire, and not a result of an intoxicated kerfuffle with a college senior when you were sixteen.
You havenât set foot in Joelâs home for years, and thatâs what terrifies him.
What if this all becomes too real? What if she doesnât want me when she remembers all the history, all the things that happened here?
His brain is working faster than what his mouth or body can even dream of keeping up with, and he hasnât even realized that his truck is still stationary outside of the bar.
âJoel.â You say his name for the third time, and he finally manages to cut free the ties between his reluctance and desire. He smiles at you.
âYeah?â
Eyebrows fused together, you stare back at him. Joel fiddles with the keys to his truck before heâs stuffing them into the ignition.
You choose to stay silent. He knows that you know that heâs playing dumb. How couldnât you? Youâd been having those same reticent thoughts leaving the bar, too.
Itâs a tricky situation to be thrust into, but itâs not exactly your worst nightmare. Banging Joel is only something you couldâve imagined. And, truthfully, it was.
Youâd spent many a night with your deft fingertips between your legs, touching yourself to the mental image of Joelâs cock splitting you open and fucking you so hard that youâre seeing stars. But youâd never admit that.
How could you? Heâs Sarahâs dad. At one point, he was your fatherâs oldest friend. A man thatâdespite his physical allure and more than charming personalityâis much, much too old for you.
You swallow your indecision, rolling down the window when you feel the air getting thick. A coolâalmost orgasmicâbreeze flits through the cabin and youâre suddenly comfortable again.
Too comfortable, maybe.
âWhen did you realize that you wanted me, Joel?â You ask. Itâs a bold question. One that he mightnât hold the answer to. But itâs worth a shot.
Joel clears his throat, focusing on the road ahead. His knuckles begin to turn white for the grip that he has on the leather-bound wheel is unyielding. Though, he doesnât feel as tense as he appears.
âActually, you donât gotta answerââ
âWhen you left for college.â He speaks over you, feeling an inexhaustible shade of maroon bleed into his cheeks. âWhen your father called Sarah ân I over to say our âgoodbyesâ before you went, thatâs when I realized.â
Your heart starts to thump.
âI think it was the thought of not seeing âya for a few months that put it into perspective for me.â Joel admits somewhat uninhibited. It was nice. âI was so proud of you, goinâ ân chasinâ your dreams. Always been a bright girl.â
You smile at him. Heâs still focused on the road, trying not to heed too much the glare from oncoming vehicle lights as Joelâs old age has cursed him with damn astigmatism.
He squints.
âAlways had more of a soft spot for you than what I shouldâve.â He says. âNot in a gross old-man way. Just always saw so much of your dad in you when you were growinâ up, and it took me back to when we were kids ourselves. And then when you turned eighteenâand grew up a hell of a lotâI couldnât stop thinkinâ âbout you.â
âPerv.â You joke and he just shoots you a pointed glare. But he knows youâre kidding.
âYeah, yeah. Donât think that I forgot âbout what you said. How youâve always wanted to fuck me.â
Eighty-five million shades of crimson flush into your face at Joelâs crude remark, but all he can do is laugh at your suddenly reddened state.
âHow old were you when you had your sexual awakening?â
âFuck off.â You chuckle and swat at his shoulder. âEh. Dunno. I always thought you were kinda cute, but the shitty sex in college made me yearn for a good pounding from a seasoned professional.â
Joelâs jaw drops. Youâre filthy. He loves it.
âHave you ever touched yourself thinking of me?â You ask completely nonchalant, mainly because you have fingered yourself to the mental image of Joel.
He huffs out a laughâhumorlessâand turns to you when he hits a stop light.
Joel never thought heâd be asked a question like this, let alone have to answer it.
âYeah.â He concedes. âIâuhâI have.â
Your pussy throbs.
âSpent a lotta time fuckinâ my fist ân thinkinâ of you.â He divulges and suddenly feels that familiar ache in the chasms of his tummy. His jeans start to constrict as his dick feels like itâs getting strangled by taut denim.âThose vacation pictures you posted on Facebook last summerâŚâ
Joel shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
âThat little bikini.â He continues, torturing himself. âFuck. The things that Iâve wanted to do to youââ
âThen do them.â Boldâcompletely brazenâyou say. âJoel, I didnât say that I wanted to fuck you just for the sake of it. I want you.â
âAnd I want you, too.â Joel tells you, shifting a little to look at you as he promptly realizes that his house is another ten minutes away. âBut I canât wait.â
Hastilyâin a moment of complete madness, blinded by the most lecherous hazeâJoel takes a sharp left turn down some slightly sketchy side-street. He yanks up the parking brake.
âWhat?â You blink at him, heeding the raging boner heâs flaunting. âYou want to do it here?â
Joel nods. âCar sex not good enough for the princess, huh?â
He starts unzipping his pants while you, on instinct, pull off your dress.
âNo.â Your head shakes. âNo, absolutely not. Just didnât think youâd want to eat me out in the passenger seat, sâall.â
âYeah, well.â He pulls his jeans and underwear down, and his prick springs free. Its so hard it looks almost painful. âIâve waited long enough to get you alone, ân I ainât wasting no more time.â
You nod, pulling almost sheer fabric over your head. Fair enough.
Joelâs eyes all but pop out of his skull at the sight of your tits. Theyâre even more alluring in person, than what that goddamn Facebook picture alludes.
âGod. Your father is gonna kill me.â
âWhat daddy donât know wonât hurt him.â You retort with a smile. Itâs almost innocent. Itâs almost driving him fucking crazy.
His features harden. As Joel puts one hand to the back of your neck and the other wraps around his cockâslowly pumping his lengthâhe kisses you. Itâs teeth and tongues, and heâs moaning because the pleasure flowing straight to his tip mixed with the saccharine liquor on your tongue is almost too much.
Itâs intense. Itâs steamy and needy, and Joel just smells so good. He tastes pretty sweet, too.
You whine into his mouth, feeling a haze of lust devour any sense of rationality that you mightâve had before this very juncture.
âFuck.â He rasps as he pulls away, his hand still affixed to his literal throbbing cock. âGet on your back.â
You oblige in a heartbeat, laying against lukewarm leather, skin already sticking to it as its getting damp with sweat.
âJesus Christ.â He lets out an expletive, feeling his already solid cock harden to an almost painful degree as you begin to leak liquid sexuality at the mere thought of Joel eating you out.
Your chest heaves as Joel starts to lick at your cunt.
A searing warmth percolates through your body as his tongue works your heat, licking a chaste trail through your folds. Its demure, its soft yet lascivious, and its driving you absolutely insane, the way heâs touching you. Feeling you. Eating you.
He laps at your honeyed sweetness, hastening the pace at which he licks and sucks and jabs at your core. Your wantonâborderline licentiousâwhines only encourage him.
âSo sweet.â He comes up for air, slipping his middle finger into your pussy while he writes his fucking name with his tongue on your clit and wrenches inside of you. âSo fuckinâ sweet.â
âJoelââ
âBaby.â The man murmurs against your swollen bud, overstimulating you to a point of almost no return, and you whine. You cry and whimper for him as he laps at your weeping bloom, feeling every ounce of pleasure twist within the chasms of your abdomen.
He spreads both of your legs apart and pulls them over his shouldersâhands firmly clamping against your stomachâand goes at it, hammer and tongs. No remorse. No mercy. No goal aside from making you squirt and scream the place down.
And of course it feels wrong, to be pinned beneath the man whose first sexual escapade was most likely shared with your father mere moments later. But you donât care.
You donât care that half of Joelâs life was spent by the side of your parent, or that he was there the day that you learned how to ride a bike for the first time. Because itâs so different, now.
You donât know him anymore. Joel isnât the same. He doesnât look the same, or act the same. He was so grumpy, so mad at the world for the longest fucking time. But now he seems to be at peace.
Here. With you.
âBet those stupid college jocks never tried suckinâ your soul outta your cunt.â Joel mumbles against trembling thighs, kissing and biting a little trail before heâs diving straight back into your heat.
Your head shakes and you whisper a little âno.â Speaking feels impossible, now.
And while the words wonât fall from your lips, a sharp mewlâshriek, almostâfalls from your lips as your warmth devours Joelâs tongue and fingers. You tighten around him, immediately feeling your release.
But he doesnât stop. Joel stays at it. He laps up the desire thatâs pouring from you, feeling his cock start to leak at the sound of you and the way that heâs forcing your body to convulse.
You writhe and moan and he wants to take pity on you, but he canât stop. He paws at his length and jerks his hand in time with his tongue as it slips through your folds.
âJoelââ your hand goes to his head on instinct, wreathing fingers into his hair as his hold is relentless. âFuck meâIââ
âYou what, darlinâ?â He lifts his glance, watching your eyes roll back in your fucking head. âYou canât take it anymore? You want me to show you what a seasoned professional can do?â
You cringe at your words being thrown back in your face, but you nod. Because Joelâs calloused fingertips strumming away at your clit is making you fucking ascend, and youâd like to leave his truck with at least some of your dignity.
He goes back down for another taste, drinking your come as it pours out of you. He licks a final trail through your pussy and lands at your clit, sucking it before releasing with a soaking pop.
Joel pulls away and gets on his knees bwteeen your legs, admiring the mess that heâs made of you beneath him. Itâs a beautiful sight. But he worries that if he basks in it for too much longer, then heâll blow his load all over you.
Fuck. His load. Joel grunts, pulling a hand over his face.
âIs something wrong?â You ask, propping yourself up by your elbows. âJoel?ââ
âCondoms.â He rasps. âYou got any?â
âNo.â Joel throws his head back, frustrated. âHey. Iâm sorry that I donât carry them around with me, but I donât usually go fuckinâ around with people that I run into in the hardware storeââ
âSorry.â He apologises, hoping that he hasnât ruined the mood. âThink I got some in the glove box.â
âHope theyâre in date.â Joel glares at you. âWhat? When was the last time that you got laid, Miller?â
He rubs his lips together. He ignores your remark, instead pulling a lone rubber from the glovebox. Joel sighs, complacent.
You peer at the back of the foil. 02.04.26.
âHuh. Got your dick wet pretty recently.â You muse, slightly downcast. But if it werenât for being at the store today, you wouldnât be in this situation and all would be so different.
Joel feels your trepidation. But counters with âIâm pretty sure that Tommy put these in here after I went on a Tinder date in January.â
You watch as he rolls it over his prick, and raise a brow.
âYou havenât had sex since January?â
He shakes his head.
âFuck. Thatâs wild. I thought you were always out banginâ bitches.â
âNo.â He chuckles, gripping firmly his cock. He lines it up with yourâstill completely soakedâcore. âUsed to be, but not anymore.â
âAw, I feel special, now.â
Joel leans over, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. âAlways been special, sweetheart.â
Throbbing once more, your cunt glitters. Itâs humiliating, getting so wet so fast. But Joel is fucking luxuriating in it. He loves this sight, you underneath him.
âYou ready?â The search for consentâor at least approvalâforces butterflies to wreak havoc inside of your stomach.
You nod at him. âMore than.â
Joelâs heart pounds. He canât believe heâs doing this. He canât believe that heâs being so fucking stupid. But, here you are. Here he is. About to have TRUCK sex with you, like youâre just some girl that heâs picked up from the bar.
IDIOT.
But he heaves all disinclination to the side, and pushes slowly his cock into the searing warmth between your legs.
He hisses out a âfuckâ while you throb around him. Youâre tighter than he thought, and he canât believe it. He canât get over the fact that he fits you almost perfectly, like his prick was just fucking made for you.
He could stay like this all day.
But he needs to get off. Quickly. Because itâs almost eleven-fifteen, and he promised Sarah that heâd call to see how her flight to Kansas was at eleven-thirty.
âChrist, Joel.â Your head hits the seat with a thump, feeling quickly the second orgasm that heâs bestowing upon you this evening. âFeels so good.â
âCan say that again.â He replies, breathless as he starts to hasten his pace. His knees dig deep into the leather-bound seat as he strives to keep his balance while rutting into you.
Your back arches as a surge of pleasure strikes your core, and Joel puts his right hand beneath the curve of your spine while the left is gripping tightly your thigh as it shakes and shivers.
âThis pussy.â He groans through gritted teeth, watching his cock slide in and out of your weeping cunt. âThis fuckinâ pussy is perfect.â
More of that arousal seeps onto his cock, slick and wet. A sharp squelch urges you to cringe, but the physical sensation cancels out any feelings of sheepishness.
Youâre a mess. In Joelâs truck, on the front bench, youâre a fucking mess.
But itâs some of the best sex youâve had inâwellâforever, and you canât even dream of elucidating the gory details to anyone. Because this is wrong. Completely forbidden. Yet it feels so good.
Youâd die if anyone found out, but youâre hardly being private about it.
Your moansâloud and obnoxiousâreverberate through the cabin and youâre pretty sure that people a mile away can hear how well Joelâs fucking into you.
âWanna get on top.â You muster out and take him by surprise. But heâs into it, and pulls out to sit back down on his ass.
You clamber overâand feel that pooling wetness seap down the inseam of your thighsâwatching him watching you.
Both legs land either side of Joelâs, and he takes it upon himself to line his cock up with your slit. You rub over the tip, slowly sliding down onto him while your eyes are locked on his.
Joel twitches and writhes underneath you. You put both hands on his chestâexposed through his green and red flannelâand slowly ride him. Youâre gentle, with your movements. Unyielding, but gentle.
âLove your cock.â Through bated breaths, you say. âSo, so big.â
âLove your pussyââ
Heâs cut off by the almost offensive ringtone that came default with the phone thatâhonestlyâyou couldnât put a name to even if you had a gun to your head
âAw, fuck. What time is it?â
You shrug, rolling your hips. âLike, eleven-thirty.â
Joel grunts and groans, fishing around for his cellphone. He pulls it from between the seat and the door.
Sarah.
âDarlinââitâs Sarah youâre gonna have toâfuckâgonna have to stop.â
You shake your head no. âIâll just be quiet. And Iâll go slow.â
âFine.â He says, though knows that you âgoing slowâ will destroy him.
Joel clears his throat, feeling quickly his release looming.
âHey, baby girl.â He greets her, and you hear her mutter something back. Something about him needing to stop saying that, and asking him to refer to her as something normal.
She hasnât changed. You smile. Itâs cute. You just want to kiss him.
But you want to torture him even fucking more.
Both hands take purchase against his shoulders, and you rock at a pace that you know is killing him.
He grinds his lips together, humming in response to something that sheâs saying.
âThatâs great, Sarâ.â Joel shoots you daggers as your tits press against his chest. You moan quietly, writhing on top of his prick.
Youâre not going to quit, and he knows that. So as sheâs describingâin depthâthe ordeal that she had at the airport, he takes it as his cue to lift his hips and pound into you. All the while striving not to make a noise.
âFuck, Joel. Iâm gonna cumââ You whisper, hating how quickly youâre unraveling atop him. He jolts his hips upwardsâfast and lazyâas youâre orgasming in front of him. Again.
And itâs only a matter of time before he starts his unyielding release, and so you ride him until youâre seeing stars. Youâre so sensitive and overstimulated, and feel as though your cunt is going to drop off.
But itâs worth it. To see Joelâs face contort, and his breathing grow sporadic, is so worth it.
âWhatâuhâwhat day will you be home?â He asks her, throat hitching.
âSaturday.â
He groans, watching you throw your head back.
âDad? You alright?â
âYes.â He says, short. âSorry, that was blunt. Iâm alright. Kinda caught up in an emergency, hon. Mrs. McKayeâs pipes are blocked. Can I call you back in the morning?â
She mumbles something about him being too nice and how he can never say ânoâ to anybody, and agrees to speak in the morning. Joel switches off his phone and throws it behind him, quickly fastening his palms to your thighs.
ââMrs. McKayeâs pipes are blocked?â Joel, you are such a shitty liar.â
âI know.â He says, letting his cock hit the spongiest part of your cunt as he slams into youâhilt deepâand mumbles a slew of curses entwined with your name. âI never lie. Thatâs why Iâm so bad at it.â
You laugh for a millisecond, before pleasure is surging over you and your sweat-slick torsos are fused together. A gorge of complete and utter rapture almost drowns the two of you, and before you know it Joelâs cock is twitchingâpulsatingâinside of you as he hits his release and cum is spitting from the tip of his prick.
Youâre grateful for the condomâas getting pregnant by your dadâs ex-best-friend is literally a death sentenceâbut desire the feeling of Joelâs hot cum painting threads of white against the walls of your pussy.
âFuck.â You whimper, wriggling as heâs still deep within you. âJoel, that wasââ
âFucking amazing.â He finishes, panting. Sweat beads against his forehead, chest and neck.
Joelâhesitantlyâpulls out, and his head hits the rest behind it. You peel yourself away and reach for your dress, quickly shimmying back into it before youâre curling up next to him. Joel puts his arm around you.
âKinda glad that I went lookinâ for a gate lock, now.â
âMhm. Me too, sweetheart.â He replies, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.
âIâve gotta go and get caulk tomorrow. You gonna be there?â
Joel chuckles. âDepends. You gonna come home with me again?â
âWe havenât even made it back to your place once.â
âThis is true.â He says.
Joel reaches for his pants and jeans.
He leans into you, nipping your ear. âBut I ainât done with you yet.â
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x afab reader#joel miller x you#tlou#tlou x reader#tlou x afab reader#tlou x you#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader smut
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âââ
Twenty minutes later, Solace hurries out of his cabin in cowboy boots.
And jeans.
Nico gapes at him.
âGo go go go go, questions later,â Will hisses, herding him behind the Apollo cabin. âWe are on a time limit, we gotta ââ
âYouâre wearing close-toed shoes.â
âYes, yes, sometimes I wear the clothes that I own. Wild. Letâs go.â Will tugs, uselessly, on his arm, but Nicoâs half-certain his jaw has taken root in the ground, cementing him in place, because what the actual shit.
âSolace, you wore flip-flops to the snow-smothered bus stop in January. I thought you had, like, a condition!â
âI do have a condition. Itâs called You Are Not Hurrying, Death Breath, letâs go ââ
This time when he pulls, Nico stumbles after him, ducking under windowsills and inching around flower gardens. Every time someone so much as looks in their direction, Will plants both hands on his chest and shoves them into a corner somewhere, craning his neck to watch until they move on. Every time he does, another piece of Nicoâs soul breaks away from his body and descends into hell. There is an actual trail of bones and tilled earth and dead grass behind him. Will doesnât need to worry about being stealthy â the death aura of Nicoâs dignity is large enough to scare off anything within a four mile radius.
âIn here!â
Undeterred by the death aura, for some reason, Will seizes his bicep and shoves him in a crack between the Hypnos and Dionysus cabins. He slips in a millisecond later, crowding him against the warm bricks, forearm pressed awkwardly next to Nicoâs head.
âHnggh,â Nico gasps, mournfully wishing his last sliver of self-respect goodbye. Rest in fucking peace. âDo you have to be so â close, Will, gods ââ
âShhh!â
âIf you shush me again I am going to rip your throat out ââ
âGo, go, go!â
Yanked forward again, Nico doesnât have the time to finish his threat. This time, at least, they sprint the final stretch to the shed without any more hiding and shoving.
Thank all the fucking gods. One more second of Willâs stupid torso â since fucking when does he wear polo shirts, huh, what the shit fuck is up with that â pressed against his and Nicoâs bronchitis was going to come back. And this time heâs going to succumb to it.
âOkay,â Will says. He stands in front of a tarp-covered lump, gripping one side and jutting his chin out at the other. âOn three, we tear this off and start pushing. We need past Thaliaâs tree in under thirty seconds. Got it?â
âNo,â Nico says stubbornly, âyou still havenât explained what the rush is ââ
âOne two three go!â
Will, unfortunately, has been tricking ADHD teenagers into doing things they donât want to do for years, so Nicoâs ripping off the tarp and shoving the chariot out of its stall faster than he can register what heâs doing. He practically sprints to keep up with Will, chariot wheels creaking happily as they rush over stones and sticks and forgotten weapons.
âWeâre leaving now, Chiron! Bye!â Will hollers, moving too fast to give him a second to respond. Luckily, Chiron is similarly busy, galloping after a speeding Harley without more than a backwards wave and a sharp donât die, please!
âThat dynamite I gave Harleyâll only keep everyone distracted another thirty seconds,â Will mutters, ignoring Nicoâs alarmed the fucking what you gave Harley, âso we need to move, letâs go.â
âWill â slow down a half fucking second, Christ, not everyone is seventy percent leg â we donât even have pegasi!â
âWill you keep it down.â Will looks back and forth, eyes wide, like heâs worried someone is going to pop up with a pack of the winged animals. âJust â stop asking questions! Weâre almost home free!â
âYouâve gone insane. Itâs finally, actually happened, after all these years, who woulda thought, fully bonkers at age sixteen ââ
âOh, shut up.â
Muttering his complaints, Nico helps him push the infernal chariot down Half-Blood Hill. Among his grievances, he makes it abundantly clear that 1) this is stupid, 2) he did not agree to physical labour, 3) he would not have agreed to come if he had known about the physical labour, and 4) this is stupid.
âJust a few more yards, then we can ââ
âOkay, no, thatâs it.â Nico lets go of the chariot, letting the wheel dig into the soft ground and send the whole thing halting. He meets Willâs pout head-on; arms crossed, jaw set, foot tapping, refusing to give into those big blue eyes.
âCâmon, Neeks.â A faint explosion sounds off in the distance. Willâs eyes get more pleading, more hopeful. âWe wonât have much time after the diversion wears offâŚâ
âYou have three seconds before I turn the hell around, Solace.â
âPlease?â
âOne.â
He pushes uselessly at the chariot. It spins a sad little circle without someone pushing the other side. âNeeks!â
âTwo.â
âAlright, fine! Help me push again and Iâll explain on the way down.â
âMuch easier when you just do as I say,â Nico grumbles, starting to push the stupid (horseless and therefore useless) chariot again. âIsnât it?â
Will, predictably, rolls his eyes, although he canât quite help the smile that pulls at his lips. Nico tells the butterflies that go buck fucking wild in his stomach to go to hell. This does nothing.
âHow much do you know about the chariot?â Will asks eventually, after a couple minutes of shoving the stupid thing past a deep trench in the soil, leftover from the war. (Nico is going to set the fucking thing on fire. Itâs a flying chariot â shouldnât it be lightweight? Why is he suffering?) Theyâre nearly three quarters down the hill, and it takes everything Nico has not to risk it all and shadow travel the last couple dozen feet. Yeah, it might kill him, but then his problem would immediately go away. Tempting does not begin to cover it.
âUh, big source of drama, right? Apollo and Ares worked together to seize it, argued over who got to keep it?â
He cuts a careful glance over to Will, well aware itâs a sensitive topic. He knows the question isnât a trap â Will would never do that to him â but itâs probably best to tread lightly. As far as heâs concerned, this is a sore point thatâll take more than a couple years to heal.
Luckily, thereâs no tension to Willâs face. âMhm. I wasnât there for much of the planning, âcause I was busy in the infirmary and also, like, twelve, but it took a lot of time on both sides. When Michael and everyone seized it, though, it glowed gold.â
ââŚAh.â
Will snorts at his awkwardness, nudging his shoulder. âYeah. Sure made it hard for the Ares cabin to claim, as dicey as it may be. Here, help me park it on the side of the road.â
Thereâs a thatch of weeds and undergrowth separating the road from the base of the hill, so dragging the chariot over is a struggle and a half. Nico canât help but think that this task would be very easy if the chariot was harnessed to a couple pegasi and flying over the fucking thatch, as it is meant to do. When he voices this very valid thought, Will does not respond.
He does walk into a thistle, though, so Nico feels considerably better about the whole ordeal.
âThe thing about the blessing ââ Will grunts, yanking the chariot onto the gravel shoulder with one final tug â âis that itâs not that big of a deal. My dad blesses shit all the time. Our cabin is blessed. The infirmary is blessed. Hell, half my scalpels are blessed, and I throw those things out all the time âcause theyâre dangerous when they get dull. Just because my dad blessed it doesnât mean we actually have to keep it.â
âOkayâŚâ Nico says slowly, âthen why was it such a big deal?â
âThe blessing on its own wasnât.â Willâs voice gets fainter as he lowers himself onto the pavement, dragging himself under the belly of the chariot. Nico is confused for a full three seconds before a particularly rough patch of asphalt snags Willâs shirt and drags, and wow, are those jeans low rise. His throat is suddenly very dry. âBlessing a chariot on the other handâŚâ
Will makes a dorky little noise of success, crawling back from under the chariot. When he resurfaces, heâs grinning, carved piece of wood the same material as the chariot clenched in his hand. Thereâs soot smeared across his left cheek, his curls have tangled themselves into more of a mess than usual, and there are three separate scuff marks on his nice jeans.
Nico ducks his head, hiding a smile. What a dorky loser. Even dressed up as he is (boy, has Nico fallen low, if heâs calling jeans and cowboy boots dressed up), he still manages to look likeâŚWill.
A really, really hot version of Will, but. Whatever. Details.
âThe hell is that?â
âThis,â Will says grandly, feeling around the wall of the chariot until he finds a specific spot, âis the reason my brother gave a fuck about a dumbass chariot.â He sticks the edge of the wooden tool in a tiny groove, wedging it open to reveal a hidden panel and a small, golden button. Nico meets Willâs grin with raised eyebrows, impressed.
âWhat do you know about Michael?â
âUh, not too much.â
âYou think he, in any reality, would have had that much interest in a hunk of wood?â
Nico had scarcely met him more than a couple times, but Michael Yew made an impression, that was for sure. For someone who was shorter than Nico when he was ten years old, he sure took up a lot of space. In the few times Nico remembers seeing him, heâd been concerned with his bow, his camera, or showing any given person who so much as blinked at him wrong just how quickly he could turn their ass concave. If Nico is correct, actually, the one time he and a pegasus had been in the same vicinity, theyâd hissed at each other. Nico didnât even know pegasi could hiss.
He tries to find a delicate way to say this.
âHe seemed more interested in other endeavours,â he says politely.
Will laughs loudly. âHe would rather shove an arrow in his eye than race a chariot!â His bright smile is impossible not to match, and Nico is relieved to find him totally comfortable, relaxed; hell, even excited. Usually, any talk of his siblings, even fond, makes him quiet. Heâs glad for this change, however unusual. âMan, I loved my brother more than anything, but he was the most ornery motherfucker Iâve ever met in my life. He taught me every swear in every language by the time I was nine, just because he knew it would drive Lee batty. He didnât care about some spoil of war.â
He smirks, wide and devilish, and Nicoâs knees go weak. Dimples like that should be illegal.
âHe was smart, though. And he figured, if dadâs blessing made this chariot anything like his ownâŚâ
He reaches out and presses the golden button with his thumb, letting go and standing back once he registers a faint click. After a couple seconds, the chariot begins to glow, soft at first, then brighter, then Nico has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the stinging burn, and then when he opens them, it â
He gapes. Will grins.
Where the chariot used to be, is now a shiny, brand-new, black and yellow motorbike, two helmets gleaming on the sparkling leather seat.
ââŚThen it might be a little more than some lousy chariot.â
Without waiting for Nico to pick his jaw off the floor, Will rushes forward. He tosses one of the helmets to Nico â which he barely manages to catch, still working on processing what the fuck just happened â and tucks the other under his arm. Nico happens to notice how his biceps flex with the action, and then vows to have his father bankrupt the entire polo shirt industry, because he can never be caught lacking like this by any mortal soul. Itâs humiliating.
Thereâs a click as Will unlatches the seat, lifting it up to access the compartment under it. He pulls out a bundle mass of black fabric, and with a flick of his shoulders reveals it to be a fucking leather jacket and oh, gods, Nico takes back the polo shirt complaints, he can live with the polo shirt. This is too much. This is â
âAny time youâre done ogling at me, you can climb on,â Will calls out. He doesnât even have the good grace to look in Nicoâs direction, instead sliding on the seat facing resolutely forward, amused smirk on his face. And because he wants Nico to die, actually, he straightens his jacket, making sure it fits his shoulders right (by the gods does it ever) brushes his hair backwards (there is no genuine reason for someoneâs hair to actually shine in the sunlight) and slides his helmet on. When he finally does look back in Nicoâs direction, through his raised visor, the combined sight of his sparkling blue eyes and the cut of his face under the angular helmet actually gives him tachycardia.
âI hate you,â Nico croaks. âNot joking.â
Will throws his head back and laughs, baring his long, tanned throat. Nico follows the bob of his adamâs apple like Tantalus does the forbidden fruit. Itâs horrible, and whatâs worse is that Will is visibly preening like the fuckinâ peacock he is. Someone should remind him heâs basically a dressed up turkey. Or something. Nicoâs brain is operating at twenty percent capacity, his ability to metaphor properly is a secondary concern.
âJust get over here, you goober. Weâre on a time limit, remember?â
Shoving his helmet on to hide his flaming face, Nico does, sliding on with a healthy four inches of space between them.
âMm, not gonna work, ParaNorman. This thingâs enchanted, weâll be going well over a hundred. Hold on properly.â
Praying to seven different gods for strength, at once, Nico scooches the agonizing few inches closer.
âHands around waist, Death Boy.â
âIâm fucking â Iâm getting there, you asshole, gimme a goddamn second.â
âDo you need help?â
âI need you to shut the fuck up so I can focus.â
Maybe itâs the healer in him, or maybe there actually is a god looking out for Nico and they decide to have mercy. Maybe itâs a third option. Either way, Will reaches back and wraps his callused hands around Nicoâs wrist, tugging them gently forward and resting them on the narrow curve of his hips. Nico holds them there, along with his breath, until some of the panicky tension starts to loosen in his chest, and he relaxes forward, resting his chest against Willâs back.
âThere,â he says quietly, humming with approval when Nicoâs arms link properly around his waist. He squeezes his clasped wrists once â a silent you good? â and waits for Nicoâs minute nod, face buried in the back of Willâs neck, before starting up the engine, revving it twice before leaning forward, body flush to the bike. Nico can practically feel his grin, itâs so clear in his mindâs eye, in the delight thrumming through Willâs entire body, that he canât help his own smile, too, canât help but feel the thrum of the machine, the sharp smell in the air. He tightens his hold and Will lets out a loud, whooping laugh.
âLetâs ride, baby!â
With a push off the ground and a twist of a thrusters, theyâre off, leaving behind only the echo of the roaring engine and the joyful, startled sound of Nicoâs shriek.
âââ
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#ALMOST DONE I SWEAR IM SORRY I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS A THREE PARTER#but nico is just so fckn. dramatic all the time. it takes time to write#pjo#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#nico di angelo#will solace#nico di angelo & will solace#nico di angelo/will solace#nico/will#will/nico#solangelo#pre solangelo#pining nico di angelo#down bad nico di angelo#whipped nico di angelo#pjo hoo toa#bad flirting#idk how to tag âwill is a cool bamf hottieâ but#it was his turn to be a biker i think#longpost#my writing
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