#he was only told not to tell the two camps about each other they said nothing about whether or not the Hunters could know

[whydoesthiskeepappening]

What if instead of doing the forced exchange program, Juno sent Jason on a quest, promising that he would find out more about his family from before Lupa. Eventually he makes his way to Camp Half-Blood where introduces himself, and Annabeth, Percy, and Grover (or whichever of them is there) immediately responds with “I’m sorry, Jason What, Son of Whom?” And then after he confirms they heard him right, they tell him to stay right there while they run off to go make a quick call. Roughly two minutes later the moon descends out of the sky, and a teenage girl runs up to him and holy shit that’s his sister, he was only two the last time he saw her but he knows that that’s his sister what the fuck

[elysianightsss]

No because girl you NEEDDDDDD to elaborate on this -> Soulmate AU. Poly!141 x neurodivergent!reader <- I will die happily

Elaboratingggggggg🤭🫠

-

You didn’t think that you’d get this far in life, many reasons spring to mind but the main one is you’re a little different than most people. You can’t cope with certain things and struggle with change. You remember growing up your family would brush off your ‘issues’ and say to just deal with it. How little they understood you.

Moving out was the best decision you ever made, the only change you have ever been happy about. It was necessary and would make your life so much easier on a level only you could understand. You could set up your space the way you like it, the way you need it. And with just you, no one would mess with your stuff just to see you loose it as it was ‘funny’ or move things to suit them better.

This way, you could live in peace.

Task force 141 had just finished a successful mission, camping out in one of the many secret safe houses as they waited for further instructions when they had sent Johnny to the shop for supplies. That’s where he saw you, in a Sainsbury’s supermarket of all places, headphones tight over your ears to block out the world while you tried to decide if the extra two, ninety-nine was worth it or not for the soothing lavender face mask you wanted.

Johnny was quick to subtly snap a picture of you and even go as far as to follow you home before bolting it back to the guys to tell them he’d finally found you. Their last soulmate.

As soon as Johnny showed them the image of you, that was it for them. They had to have you. A burning need coursing through their veins, pumping around their bodies. Nothing would ever be enough until they had you in their arms.

But as said and as they observed themselves, you don’t cope with change.

So they had to situate themselves into your life slowly, one by one.

Johnny and Simon moved in next door to you, and lived there for seven months slowly getting to know you and obviously spying on you. They gradually began to understand you and your cute quirks. They know that you eat the same thing for dinner every night, you use the same plate or bowl and wash it straight after use to make sure it is ready for next time.

You have one set of cutlery, one glass and one mug. Two pillows though you only sleep on one and use the other to hug to sleep. And to top it all off you have one recliner chair and one massive beanbag chair that makes you feel like you’re being hugged tight each time you sit on it. It gives you the deep pressure therapy you desperately need at times.

The guys found your habits strange at first but the more time they spent with you, the more they began to understand you. Understand your need for order, for repetition. And they had experienced first hand what happens when change was forced into your safe space.

Johnny had the bright idea to gift you a set of cutlery a few weeks ago so when he and Simon came round for dinner as they did every Thursday for the past four months, they didn’t have to bring cutlery and plates from their own place, it would already be there.

Simon said it was a bad idea but he couldn’t say no to Johnny, not with how happy he looked while he picked out some pretty baby blue plates and silver cutlery with little mushrooms painted at the end. He boasted to Simon about how much you’d love them while they stood in the queue to pay.

He was wrong.

After dinner was cooked you plated up the food no problem thinking the pretty plates were from their house. Then you opened the kitchen drawer only to hear the clutter and smash of cutlery rubbing together. The sound made a ringing pierce your ears, your hands reaching up to cover them. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you. The sound you heard making you panic beyond measure, your breathing out of control as you slid to your knees.

Johnny’s smile dropped and he sprung into action using the deep pressure therapy you had told him about with your beanbag chair. Simon was quick to removed the extra plates and cutlery from where Johnny had put them and take them back to their place before returning ready to help. He knew he’d need to call John and let him know you had had an episode, but helping you came first.

So you liked constant repetition. If it made you happy, that was absolutely fine with them.

Kyle got himself hired as a barista at your favourite cafe, he learned your usual and practiced at home to make sure every morning when you stopped by on the way to work to drink your coffee and sit with your laptop for twenty minutes, you’d have the perfect drink. He made absolutely sure that it tasted the same every single time. No change.

After a couple of months of smiles and waves here and there he finally got you to open up. Baby steps. A little at a time and now Kyle was taking his twenty minute break at your table while you typed up something for work. You always worked so hard. But he managed to get a few sentences out of you each time and it made his heart sing.

And last but not least, John became your new boss after your last one mysteriously got caught for money laundering. Mr Price was an amazing boss, he didn’t ask for much and was always giving you big opportunities that you’d only ever dreamed of. You had been promoted twice since he became the CEO.

You were now executive editor under him as the chief editor at one of the best publishers in the country. Pirons Classics, number two in the UK and number four in the World. To say the guys were proud that you worked there in the first place was an understatement. Their smart girl.

He called you sweet nicknames and brought you lunch everyday. The same thing, a pesto and cheese sandwich and a snack of your choosing from the vending machines. You don’t remember when it started but you were always too shy to say anything so it became a regular thing.

If you were to sit and think real hard about the situation you would realise how changes had been introduced into your life ever since the four of them appeared. But they were subtle changes and you genuinely couldn’t remember a time when these changes weren’t normal. On top of that, these four men were the only people besides yourself, that you felt comfortable, relaxed and content around.

So for the first time you don’t sit and think, for the first time you just let it happen and you don’t notice the difference.

Johnny and Simon were more involved with you than the other two. They were the closest to you currently with the status of your best friends which Johnny most certainly bragged to the other two about. You had known them for almost a year now and they didn’t exactly hide their romantic relationship but didn’t exactly flaunt it either.

You had found it kinda hot when you saw them kiss and even though it was unusual for you, you luckily managed to keep your mouth shut about it.

You had no idea they had noticed.

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

[fastandcarlos]

Number One Fan : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: the reveal of george’s relationship with one of the best footballers in the world

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liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 2,958,068 others

georgerussell63: such an honour to get to watch the lionesses for the very first time tonight, and see my girl out on the pitch, congratulations on a great win 🦁🦁🦁

178,493 comments

landonorris: can’t believe you went to the football and didn’t invite me 😭

username1: hope you had the best time george, the game was so good!

maxverstappen1: they can’t have been playing us if it was a good game for you guys, I bet we’d demolish you 😂

georgerussell63: @/maxverstappen1 trust me, these girls are unstoppable

username2: now wishing my dream to play for england actually came true 😭

lewishamilton: bracing myself to hear all about this at the office tomorrow

username3: how has it taken you this long to see just how talented this group of girls are??

lionesses: thank you for coming and supporting our team ❤️

georgerussell63: @/lionesses you girls were awesome, so glad to see it in person ❤️

username4: wait…everyone ignoring the part where he said watching his girl or just me 🤯

mercedesamgf1: mr wolff wants to remind you that work starts bright and early in the morning!

georgerussell63: @/mercedesamgf1 don’t you guys worry, I’ll be there!

username5: watch me stalk every player’s socials now to find out who it is 🏃🏻‍♀️

username6: I want to be mad but george and a footballer are such a good pairing 😮‍💨

oscarpiastri: still waiting for you to actually explain the rules of football to me…

username7: bracing myself for the sexist comments to arrive and defend these girls with my honour 💪🏻

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liked by alessia, leahwilliamsonn and 397,597 others

ynusername: last bit of recovery before we head into the build up for the euros. luckily for me I’ve got the best company to make sure I’m super relaxed 🥰☀️

48,361 comments

username8: yn you can’t just spring something like this on us…I wasn’t ready

alessia: can you stop making the rest of us feel extremely jealous please 😮‍💨

username9: can’t wait to see you absolutely smash it at the euros ⚽️

maryearps: can’t wait to reunite with you best friend 🙌🏻

ynusername: @/maryearps the only reason I agreed to play was secretly you!

username10: 🎶 it’s coming home it’s coming home 🎶

lionesses: we can’t wait to welcome you back to camp soon 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

ynusername: @/lionesses buzzing to be back and try and win this thing!

username11: whoever you are sir pls don’t lift our girl like that…we can’t afford any injuries now!!

landonorris: good luck yn, I know you girls will give it your all!

ynusername: @/landonorris thanks lan 🫶🏻🧡

username12: someone’s gotta be able to zoom in and figure out who this mystery man is 😧

alexgreenwood5: missed your beautiful face so much, it needs to spill all the gossip with me asap 😘

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 392,727 others

ynusername: apparently seeing as he came to my game I’ve got to come and see what he does too 😂 thank you mercedes for such an incredible day with you all 🩵

68,493 comments

username13: stfu please don’t tell me the mystery guy is actually THE george russell

georgerussell63: thank you for being here, hope you had the best time darling ✨

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 it was amazing!! who knew f1 was so much fun 🥳

username14: it was so obvious how did we not piece it together 🤦🏻‍♀️

jillscottjs8: I always told you you’d love f1 and you never believed me 😂 now you’re dating one of them 🤦🏻‍♀️

ynusername: @/jillscottjs8 turns out you might’ve been right all along 😔

username15: I can already tell these two are gonna make such a cute couple!!!!

lewishamilton: an absolute honour to meet you, good luck with the lionesses this summer ⚽️

username16: it’s adorable how supportive they are of each other’s careers 🥺

landonorris: smiling through the pain knowing you picked mercedes over mclaren 💔

ynusername: @/landonorris when george signs a contract with you I’ll be the first one over there 🧢

landonorris: @/ynusername when???? spill your secrets my friend 🫢

username17: can’t wait to enter football hooligan era george over the next couple of months 😂

mercedesamgf1: thank you for paying us a visit yn, you’re welcome back anytime 🩵

danielricciardo: still got no idea what football truly is, but it was so cool to hear all about what you do ☺️

username18: my heart is so full it could burst right now 💓💓

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,974,088 others

georgerussell63: saying goodbye to my favourite person in style before she heads off to the euros, good luck darling 🏆⚽️

284,073 comments

landonorris: you got this yn, bring football home ⚽️💪🏻

username19: okay well I’m now officially obsessed with these two 🤩

lilymhe: alex told me I’m an honorary brit in order to support you for the next four weeks

ynusername: @/lilymhe I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🫂

username20: george pretending to say goodbye like he’s not going to be at every single game

ynusername: thank you for the most beautiful couple of days, no better way to prepare for the tournament 💞

georgerussell63: @/ynusername you’ve got this, everyone’s behind you - especially me!

username21: have you ever seen two better matched people in your life???

carlossainz55: england are gonna win the euros there’s no doubt about it 🦁🦁🦁

carlossainz55: @/georgerussell63 george stole my phone during the parade and wrote that btw

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you mean to say you don’t want england to win? 😱

carlossainz55: @/ynusername you’re a close second behind spain I promise 🇪🇸⚽️

username22: I want to be heartbroken that I’ve lost my chance with george but damn yn is just stunning 🫠

alex_albon: go out there and smash it yn, just like you always tell me!

oscarpiastri: seeing as I have zero affiliation to europe I think this time I’m allowed to say that I’m rooting for you!!

username23: good luck yn, we’re all rooting for you 🎉

username24: can’t wait for all the football content we’re gonna get over the next month!!!

lewishamilton: have the best time yn, and make sure you score lots of goals 🥅

ynusername: @/lewishamilton I’ll try my best just for you ☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maryearps, lucybronze and 428,497 others

ynusername: first couple of weeks and first couple of wins, trust me when I tell you this team is something special ✨🫶🏻

78,372 comments

chloekelly: so in love with what a superstar you are 🤩

username25: I heard the heart was a sign to george, someone pls tell me that’s true

username26: @/username25 it’s true!! someone on x said they saw george doing it back when she scored 🥺

username27: you’re doing amazing yn, let’s go all the way!

alex_albon: george has not stopped talking about how amazing you are at the paddock btw 😂

ynusername: @/alex_albon tell him to worry about the racing instead 🙄

landonorris: FOOTBALL’S COMING HOME 🎉🎉

ynusername: @/landonorris let’s not get too ahead of ourselves just yet lan 😂😂

username28: how does george ever get to a race with how often he’s in the stands cheering her on 😂

maryearps: have I mentioned recently how much I love playing with you???

ynusername: @/maryearps I love being on that pitch with you so much more!!

username29: you girls are smashing it, dare we say it’s coming home???

georgerussell63: keep pushing my love, you’re making everyone so proud 💕

username30: forever wishing I could be as cool as you…

lauren_hemp: in love with the fact I get to lineup with you, what a team 🤜🏻

ynusername: @/lauren_hemp the striker to my winger 🤛🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, ynusername and 3,017,492 others

georgerussell63: gutted I couldn’t be there in person but still making sure I support them all the way. onto the semis and I couldn’t be prouder of the girls (especially yn!) 🦁🦁🦁

284,507 comments

ynusername: I can’t believe you made the whole of silverstone watch 😂 you’re the best sweetheart

georgerussell63: @/ynusername wouldn’t have missed it for the world…and neither would thousands of others apparently 😂

username31: if anyone ever doubts george’s dedication to yn then just show them this post!!

lilymhe: never watched a game of football in my life until now…turns out it’s pretty cool when one of your best friends plays

username32: I love the fact he point blank refused to miss the game 👏🏻

oscarpiastri: beginning to see why you brits are so obsessed with football, I’m on tenterhooks watching this 😬

username33: loving that lewis joined him to cheer yn on too 🤩

lewishamilton: you were incredible tonight, good luck for the semi final, I’ll be watching 🙌🏻

ynusername: @/lewishamilton thank you so much for all your support!!

username34: the cheer of the crowd at that full time whistle made my heart swell 🥺

mercedesamgf1: wishing you all the best in the final stages yn, we know you and the girls can go all the way!

danielricciardo: no idea what’s going on, but you’re doing amazing yn!!

username35: thankful they’ve got a week off so george can keep supporting irl

landonorris: how does it feel to have a girlfriend that’s so much cooler than you???

georgerussell63: @/landonorris how does it feel to have a girlfriend…oh wait, nvm 🫢

landonorris: @/georgerussell63 low blow my friend 😭

username36: I’m so excited, don’t think I can wait three days for the semi final 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 429,716 others

ynusername: CHAMPIONS OF EUROPE 🏆⚽️💕

59,737 comments

georgerussell63: words will never do justice to tell how proud I am of you, my champion, always 💓

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 thank you for all your sacrifices over the past month, couldn’t do it without you ❤️

username37: so damn proud of you yn, you’ve been insane all tournament 👏🏻

lilymhe: I’m SO damn proud of you my girl 💪🏻

username38: it finally came home ⚽️🎉

landonorris: the best game of football ever, you’re a total legend my friend!!

ynusername: @/landonorris tysm for coming and cheering me on!

username39: I’ve not stopped crying since that goal went in, such a thrilling game ☺️

carlossainz55: my second favourite team (but favourite player!) are champions, felicidades mi amiga 🎉

username40: when the camera panned to george in the stands I swear I almost died

chloekelly: just two girls scoring in the final of the euros like it’s no big deal 🤩🤩

heidiberger_: when I next see you we’re celebrating this with sooooo many drinks 🥂

username41: george looked like the proudest man in the world omg

danielricciardo: congrats yn, you’re incredible!

maxverstappen1: so proud to call you a friend, good job out there ☺️

oscarpiastri: thank you so much for the invite, honoured to have been there and watched this in person!

username42: we all knew you could do it, champions of europe 💞💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 3,958,726 others

georgerussell63: celebrating you, my love. all the hard work has been worth it in the end, I couldn’t be prouder of you and the whole team for what you’ve achieved over this past month. can’t wait to have you all to myself again, ily 💞✨

329,271 comments

username43: can’t begin to imagine how proud you must be feeling rn george 🥺

leahwilliamsonn: it’s been amazing to have you alongside us during the past four weeks too george!!

landonorris: turns out you’ve got yourself a pretty cool girl there russell 👏🏻

georgerussell63: @/landonorris trust me I remind myself how lucky I am everyday!!

username44: in the future my partner better be as supportive of me as george is of yn…

oscarpiastri: hope you guys had the best night…you both deserve it 🍺

maxverstappen1: make sure you get yn a drink on me 😂

username45: seeing george’s feed has been the most adorable thing throughout this entire tournament

alessia: thank you for loving our girl as much as we do ❤️

username46: please don’t tell me this is gonna be the end of fangirl george now 😂

mercedesamgf1: admin reminder that yn might be done but we still have a season to finish!!

username47: the softest human being who ever existed 🥺

lionesses: we’ve loved having your support behind us all the way, thank you george ⚽️🦁

username48: manifesting to one day have a relationship as wholesome as this 🤞🏻

lewishamilton: can’t wait to see you guys and hear all about the final, we’re all so proud of you yn 🩵

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 7

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2332 Click here for Part 6

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Max wasn’t just any friend - he was a fellow former racer, gaming buddy and part of Lando’s team at Quadrant. Their history went way back to their childhood karting days and today he was about to meet Lando’s new little family.

Noah’s eyes sparkled with wonder at the sight of the go-karts when they were walking through the track. Lando walked right behind him, holding Y/N’s hand and guiding the little boy gently with the other.

“There he is,” Lando said, spotting Max near the Quadrant camera setup, laughing with some of their other members. Max caught sight of Lando and his grin widened, making his way over with his usual easygoing stride.

“Mate, finally,” Max greeted, pulling Lando into a brotherly embrace, then stepping back to look at Y/N and Noah. “And you must be Y/N and Noah I’ve heard so much about!”

“Nice to finally meet you, Max,” Y/N smiled warmly. “Lando’s told us all about you.”

Max pulled her into a quick hug and then crouched down to Noah’s level, his smile widening. “Hey there buddy, you know, Lando told me you’re really good at video games. Maybe even better than him, right?”

Noah giggled shyly, looking up at Lando for confirmation. Lando chuckled and nodded. “He’s a natural, he can game for hours.”

Max straightened up, turning his attention back to Lando. “Speaking of which, remember the time we were doing that endurance karting race and you insisted on pushing the limits every lap?”

Lando groaned, already knowing where Max was headed. “Oh no, not this story…”

Max smirked, clearly enjoying the chance to embarrass his friend. “So there we were, in this all-night karting race and Lando here was determined to beat my lap times. It was the middle of the night, pitch dark and he somehow managed to miss the pit entry and ended up driving straight into the team’s camping tent!”

Y/N burst out laughing, covering her mouth in surprise, while Noah’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Did you really drive into a tent, Lando?” Noah asked, his voice filled with awe.

Lando sighed dramatically but couldn’t help but laugh along. “Yeah, it wasn’t my finest moment. But in my defense, it was dark and I was just trying to keep up with Max.”

“Always trying to outdo me, even in the most ridiculous ways,” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back. “And let’s not forget the time you tried to film a stunt for Quadrant, only to slip and end up flat on your back, live in front of thousands of viewers!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Lando, who was now blushing slightly. “Oh, so you’ve always been this smooth, huh?”

Lando groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Max, you’re supposed to make me look good in front of Y/N, not tell her about every time I’ve messed up!”

“Come on, that’s what friends are for! Besides, you’ve got to stay humble, right?” Max just grinned, clearly loving every moment of this. 

As they continued to chat, Max kept the stories coming, sharing tales of their karting days, their countless pranks on each other and the early days of Quadrant. With every story Y/N could see how deep their friendship ran and how much they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

Noah tugged on Max’s sleeve, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can we drive go-karts together sometime, Max?”

“Absolutely, buddy,” Max’s face lit up, “we’ll set up a special day just for you. Maybe I’ll even teach you some tricks, just don’t tell Lando!”

The day went on and after the video for Quadrant was all filmed they all ended up at Max’s place for the rest of the day. With every passing minute it became clearer and clearer that Noah and Max were hitting it off. The moment Max crouched down to Noah’s level the two seemed to form an instant bond. The little boy was fascinated by Max’s stories, his jokes and the way he talked to him like they were equals.

Lando watched them, a smile on his face, but there was a twinge of something else - something like jealousy - bubbling inside of him. He was thrilled that Noah and Max were getting along so well but he couldn’t help but feel a bit left out as his best friend and girlfriend's son formed their own little duo.

Y/N noticed the subtle shift in Lando’s mood and gave him a gentle nudge. “You okay?” she asked softly, a knowing look in her eyes.

Lando shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect them to hit it off this well.”

“You know Noah adores you, right?” Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “He’s just excited to meet someone new who’s as cool as you.”

Lando chuckled, though he still felt a little pang of envy as he watched Max and Noah. The two were now huddled together, Max showing Noah how to use a racing simulator setup. Noah was completely enthralled, his little hands gripping the steering wheel as Max guided him through the basics.

“Look, Lando! I’m driving,” Noah called out, his voice filled with excitement.

Lando forced a smile and walked over, ruffling Noah’s hair. “You’re doing great, buddy,” he said, trying to shake off the feeling of being the third wheel.

Max glanced up at Lando, catching the hint of jealousy in his friend’s eyes. He smirked and teased, “don’t worry, mate. I’m not trying to steal your thunder. I’m just giving Noah a taste of the Fewtrell magic.”

Lando rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember, I’m still his favorite.”

“We’ll see about that,” Max grinned, giving Noah a playful wink.

While Lando couldn’t deny that he was a little jealous he was also happy. Seeing Noah so happy and comfortable meant the world to him and he knew that Max was only adding to that joy.

Later that evening, as the sun began to set, Lando found himself sitting on a bench, watching as Max and Noah played a game of tag in Max’s backyard. Y/N sat beside him, her hand resting on his.

“You know, it’s okay to be a little jealous,” she said gently, reading his thoughts.

Lando sighed, leaning back. “I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing my best friend - or my family.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “But that’s what makes it so special, right? You’re not losing anything, you’re just adding more love, more laughter and more memories.”

“You’re right,” Lando nodded, her words sinking in. “And honestly, seeing Noah this happy… It’s worth it.”

They watched Max chase Noah around and Lando felt the last of his jealousy melt away. In its place was a deep feeling of gratitude - gratitude for the people in his life who made every day brighter and for the moments that reminded him just how lucky he was.

“Lando,” Noah called out, running over to him with Max close behind. “Come play with us!”

Lando grinned, standing up and reaching out to lift Noah into his arms. “Alright, alright. Let’s see if you two can keep up with me!”

Y/N watched the three of them run off with a smile, knowing that they were building something special.

______

It was a sunny Sunday morning at the circuit a few weeks later and after the successful introduction of Y/N and Noah to his best friend Lando wanted to take the next big step: Introduce them to his parents. The moment had been on his mind for weeks and as he led them through the paddock he couldn’t help but feel nervous.

The three of them walked together, Noah in the middle holding each of Y/N and Lando’s hands. He was taking in the buzz of the race weekend and the people rushing around. His tiny hand tightened around his mother’s fingers as they approached the McLaren motorhome where Lando’s parents, Cisca and Adam, were waiting.

“They’re really looking forward to meeting you both,” Lando said, offering a reassuring smile. He had told his parents about Y/N and Noah the day after they had started dating and they had been eager to finally meet the two people who had brought so much joy into his life. Today, five months later, the day was finally here.

As they reached the entrance, Lando spotted his parents just inside, chatting with a few members of the team. Cisca was the first to notice them, her face lighting up as she nudged Adam and made her way over.

“Lando,” she exclaimed, pulling her son into a warm hug. Lando grinned and returned the embrace before turning to Y/N and Noah. “Mum, Dad, this is Y/N and this little guy here is Noah.”

Y/N felt a flutter of nerves as Cisca turned her attention to her but the warmth in the older woman’s eyes immediately put her at ease.

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,” Cisca said, giving her a gentle hug. “Lando has told us so much about you both.”

Adam stepped forward shaking Y/N’s hand before crouching down to the boy. “So you are the famous Noah,” he said with a kind smile. “Are you excited to see the race?”

Noah nodded shyly, his big eyes fixed on the man in front of him. “Yeah,” he said softly before glancing up at Lando. “I want to see Lando win.”

Adam chuckled. “Well, we all do! How about we go find some snacks and get ready to cheer him on?”

Noah’s face brightened at the mention of snacks and he nodded enthusiastically. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her son warming up to Lando’s parents so quickly.

While they made their way through the motorhome Lando stayed close to Y/N, occasionally glancing over to see how she was doing. She seemed more relaxed now and the sight of her laughing at something Cisca had said made him happy.

Cisca and Adam were instantly charmed by Noah’s curiosity and sweetness and Y/N found herself feeling more and more at ease as the morning went on. She could see where Lando got his kindness and sense of humor from.

Later, after they had all settled into their seats in the family area, Noah found himself a bit restless. The excitement of the day and the overwhelming sights and sounds of the racetrack were a lot for a four-year-old to take in. He fidgeted in his seat, his small hands gripping the edge as his eyes followed the blur of cars speeding by on the track.

Cisca noticed and leaned over with a warm smile. “Would you like to sit with me, Noah?” she asked softly, her voice gentle and inviting. Noah hesitated for a moment, glancing up at his mom. Y/N nodded encouragingly and with that silent approval Noah shuffled over to Cisca. 

“There we go, sweetheart,” Cisca said, lifting him onto her lap. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him securely as he settled against her. The connection between them was immediate, as if he had always been part of the family.

Noah relaxed almost instantly, his earlier nervousness melting away in the comfort of her embrace. He leaned back against her, his tiny body fitting perfectly in her lap, and gazed out at the track with wide eyes. 

Cisca, noticing his gaze was still intent on the cars, pointed to the track. “Do you see Lando? He’s driving really fast! And we’re here to cheer him on, aren't we’?”

Noah nodded vigorously, his small hands gripping the edge of the seat as he leaned forward a little, as if that would help him see Lando’s car better. “Go, Lando, go!” he shouted, his voice ringing out clear and strong above the noise of the cars.

Cisca laughed softly and she gently rocked Noah as they both watched the race. Every time Lando’s car zoomed by Noah would point and cheer, his little voice growing hoarse but full of excitement.

Adam, sitting next to them, couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He exchanged a glance with Y/N, who was watching them obviously relieved. It was clear that seeing Noah so happy and comfortable with Lando’s parents was a huge weight lifted off her shoulders.

The race continued and Cisca and Noah formed a little routine. She would point out different things on the track, explaining them in simple terms that Noah could understand and he would respond with questions. It was as if they had known each other for much longer than just a few hours.

At one point the boy looked up at Cisca, his big, innocent eyes searching hers. “Can we always watch Lando’s races together?” he asked, his voice filled with the kind of sincerity only a child could have.

“Of course we can, Noah,” she replied, kissing the top of his head. “We’re a team now and teams stick together.”

Noah beamed at her answer, turning his attention back to the track with renewed excitement. The race neared its end and Noah remained on Cisca’s lap, nestled comfortably against her. He was still full of energy, his little body practically buzzing and when Lando crossed the finish line the entire family erupted into cheers.

Cisca hugged the boy tightly while Adam reached over to ruffle Noah’s hair affectionately. “Looks like we’ve got a future racer in the family,” he joked, making everyone laugh.

Y/N, watching the exchange, felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly brushing it away before anyone could notice. She had always hoped that whoever came into her life would accept Noah as their own but to see Lando’s family not only accepting but also embracing her son with open arms was more than she could have ever dreamed of.

_____

A/N: Cisca's surprise visit yesterday was just so fricking cute 😍 so I decided to expand by 2 more chapters, I just love writing this series way too much, so stay tuned for Part 8!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @jaydensluv @destinyg237 @il0vereadingstuff @lnchicagosreads @alana4610 @hc-dutch

[thealtoduck]

SPICY

Camp Half-Blood x Son of Aphrodite!Reader

Warnings: The Hunters of Artemis lowkey being bullies, slut shaming kinda, verbal confrontation, OOC!Drew…

Summary: To the displeasure of Cabin 10, Camp Half-Blood gets a visit from the Hunters of Artemis…

——

As everything seemed about to be peaceful at Camp Half-Blood… for once in a lifetime. Then THEY showed up. ”THEY” being the Hunters of Artemis showed up. Thalia and seven other hunters.

What they were doing at camp, you had no idea, but here they were. But it was nice for you to see Thalia again, she had been a friend of yours while she was at camp.

Personally you had nothing against the Hunters for their choice to join the hunt. What you did have something against was how some of them would act and say about you, your mother and your siblings. It was starting to get on your nerves.

Thalia and three of other hunters were completely fine and respectful. Keeping things civil between you and your siblings and themselves. But then there was the other four… the ones who were whispering things, not only about your cabin but every single demigod at camp and maybe even about Mr D and Chiron too.

A couple of days in to their stay you and a couple of other Aphrodite kids went to the archery range for some extra practice. But when you got there, the four hunters were there shooting the targets.

Your group stopped behind them and Drew spoke up in as polite of a tone as she could muster ”Excuse me, we’ve booked the archery range for practicing”. The hunters turned to them, their smiles were mocking as they said ”We just finished”.

They collected their arrows from the target. And moved to the side of the range, one of them then asked ”You don’t mind if we stay and watch, do you?”. ”Do whatever you want” Drew said and turned towards the other Aphrodite kids.

”Lacy, you’re first” Drew said and Lacy stepped forward. The young girl seemed distracted as she tried to set the arrow correctly on the string. You glanced over at the four hunters seeing them whisper amongst each other.

Once she got it right and fired off the arrow she missed by quite a lot. ”Good try” Drew told her, giving her a pat on the shoulder. ”Mitchell, you’re up next” Drew stated and Mitchell took Lacy’s place.

He set the arrow, he trembled slightly as he tried to aim. ”Focus Mitchell” you tried to encourage him. Once he fired the arrow he managed to hit the target but nowhere near center. The four hunters started giggling. The Aphrodite kids tried their best to ignore them.

”Y/n, you’re turn” Drew said, her voice starting to sour as she heard the hunters starting to whisper once more. You stepped forward pulling an arrow out of your quiver, setting it on the string of your bow, as you were about to lift your bow and aim you heard some of what the hunters were whispering.

”You can tell they don’t usually do a lot of work” one with bushy black hair whispered to the other three.

”They do, but mostly on their knees, especially him” one with a short brown bob commented nodding towards you making the other three laugh lightly. You felt as angered blossomed up inside you and you snapped.

”I’m sorry” you then spoke up turning to them, the one with the brown bob and a blonde one’s eyes had widend and the two other two with black hair only glared at you.

”But do you four have something that you wanna say?” you questioned.

”We weren’t talking to you” one with sleek black hair said defensively, the others nodding smugly in agreement.

”Well it sure as Hades sounds as if you were talking about me, You wanna say it with your chest this time?” you questioned venomously, the hunters went silent.

”Something about being on my knees” you said in a mockingly helpful tone.

”Drop it, just shoot your arrow” the one with bushy black hair said dismissively as the other 3 voiced their agreement.

Without even at a glance to the target you lifted the bow shooting off the arrow, hitting right in the bull’s eye. The hunters looked in shock at the arrow you had just shot.

”What? You think you’re special cause you can shoot a bow and arrow” you questioned. ”Lucky shot” the brown haired one said.

You immediately turned back to the range and shot the bull’s eye of all the other targets too. Then turning back to the hunters who were stunned. ”You do remember our brother is Eros, right? Think we wouldn’t pick up anything from him” You stated sarcastically.

The hunters glared silently at you.

”So maybe next time you, don’t dish out something you can’t say to my face… clear?” you said in a vaugely threatening tone. The four hunters didn’t say anything they simply turned and walked off, clearly pissed as hell.

Your talk with them was enough to keep them in line for the rest of their visit. Being too scared to comment on the other Aphrodite kids whenever you were around.

[fallenclan]

Pls ramble about Maplestar i didn't think much of him at all when he was around

:3

okay so imagine. You are born into Fallenclan as a fresh little kitten. You are told at a very young age that your mom isn't around anymore, but your dad loves you and your two siblings more than anything, and he will do everything in his power to make sure you all are happy and successful. Your siblings are louder than you, more outgoing than you, and arguably more likeable than you, but they look to you as the cat to follow when your dad isnt around, so it's your job to look after them. You're the oldest, after all.

Later into your kithood you are told that your mother died giving birth to the three of you. If you didnt exist, she would still be alive.

You become an apprentice. Your sister is mentored by the cool older cat that is also your friend's mom. Your brother is mentored by one of your dad's best friends, a cat you've known since birth. You are apprenticed to the deputy of Fallenclan--she cares about you, and the clan, but she's also strict, and tells you in no uncertain terms that she expects you to be great. Not good. Great. You think, "If I am not great, is it my fault?" You try your best. You wonder if it is enough.

You become a warrior. Your sister takes on a mate, your brother does, too. Both of them have kits. You never were interested in having a mate, but you can't help but wonder if that's what your clan, your father, wants you to do. Your father, in the meanwhile, takes over the job that your mentor had, and becomes deputy of Fallenclan. Then he becomes leader. He becomes legend. Cats at gatherings say to you, "You must be so proud!" You are. When your back is turned, they say "The son of Goldenstar, he'll be something special, I'm sure."

The deputy, a cat known for her strength, loyalty, and honor, retires, and chooses you out of everyone to take her place. Your father assures you that you'll do great. Your siblings cheer you on and offer their support. You refuse it, politely. You will be a great deputy if you have to pull out all of your fur to do it--and you will do it by yourself. Are you really great if some of your greatness is borrowed? The whole clan depends on you.

Under the cover of night, the clan is attacked. The former deputy dies. One of your best friends dies. Your brother dies. Four kits, six warriors, and one elder die. You are hardly wounded. For moons you keep the night guard and torture yourself thinking about what you could have done to change things. What you could have done better.

Time passes. You age, your sister ages, your father ages. As leader, he has nine lives, but they slowly dwindle. One evening, he's missing from camp longer than he said he would be, and you and your sister go looking for him. You find his body at the bottom of a cliff. You grieve until sundown, and then you travel to receive your nine lives. You see the faces of all the cats you outlived. All the cats you failed. Your niece and great-nephew, your brother, your mentor, your father, your mother. You wake up and it is only you and your medicine cat huddled together in a cave. Your skin hurts, you can feel each fur on your body. You walk home.

You discover that your former apprentice is a murderer. With no other options, you exile him from the clan and watch as he is escorted away. If you had been a better mentor, would he have lived a kinder life? Would he have forgiven his long-time enemy? You'll never find out.

A neighboring clan, which has had it out for Fallenclan since your father was an apprentice, declares war. You run yourself ragged making plans and trying to keep your warriors safe and alive. There are battles, there are scars, but there are no deaths, and the war ends only a few moons later. You congratulate yourself for this feat, and then wonder why it was only when you became leader that war was declared.

Every death that passes, you wonder if you could have prevented it. Every loss that your sister suffers, your nephews and nieces suffer, you contemplate how to fix. You are old now, and there are few Fallenclan cats that knew you before you were an apprentice, before you were a warrior, before you were deputy or leader. You're not a cat, anymore, you are a shelter; protecting your clan and paying little mind to your own needs.

You take a hunting patrol by yourself, late one night. In a dry riverbed, you feel the ground rumble, and look upstream to see a flash flood clawing its way towards you.

You wonder, "Am I fast enough to outrun it?"

You aren't.

[petertingle-yipyip]

LAST NIGHT - BELLAMY BLAKE

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 2,355

Summary: (requested) A drinking game with Monty and Co goes a bit too far. Intending to get back to your own tent, you stumble upon Bellamy and some shock revelations.

You hadn’t been on the Ground long yet it seemed like you never left the Ark. You had convinced Raven to let you stowaway with her in her rebuilt pod and now, you were among friends.

Mostly.

The only caveat - other than the alleged war with the Grounders - was Bellamy Blake.

Not quite friends, not quite enemies, but frenemies didn’t work either. It seemed like you two just couldn’t go a day without arguing or damn near punching each other in the mouth. There wasn’t really any reason to it either. He liked to instigate you and your temper had you engaging in the bickering everytime. It had been that way since you had first met, but you had to admit, it was fun for you too.

Once the flares went up and hope was in the air, liquor was being poured into cups across camp. You took a spot with Monty, Jasper, and Harper, and Jasper did not hesitate to fill your little tin cup as much as he could.

Your group started some nonsense drinking game, and you lost count of the drinks or rounds after about four. If anyone asked, you didn’t know who was winning or losing or even the premise of the game anymore. All you knew was that you had drunk way too much way too fast. When the entire forest was spinning around you, you used the bit of logical thought you had left and decided to make your way to your tent.

Harper offered to help you, but the slurring of her words told you that she was about as lucid as you were. You waved her off and reasoned that you could make it on your own since there were walls around camp now. If there was the potential of you wandering into the empty woods, then you would’ve taken her up on the offer, but you’d be fine.

As you were wandering back, you saw Octavia sneaking out. Curious, you tried to follow. You had gotten all of four steps before you tripped over your own feet and landed on your side. You laughed at yourself and rolled to your back, hands flat on your stomach. Maybe you’d just sleep there.

“What are you doing?” Bellamy asked, suddenly standing over you.

“Sleeping.” You answered.

“Oh, shit.” He sighed and you grinned. “Are you drunk?”

“Are you?” You tried to point a finger at him but ended up gesturing to nothing, which made you giggle.

His hand closed around your wrist and he hauled you to your feet, bringing on another round of laughter. He kept a grip on your arm and guided you through camp, despite your dragging feet and nonsense blabbering. He brought you to your tent but you refused to go in.

Surely he had you turned around. Or maybe that was the liquor buzzing in your head. Regardless. you stomped your foot and told him he was wrong. You pointed to a tent three over and said that one was yours. You could see he was trying to stay patient with you but he didn’t sign up to babysit you as a drunk.

“That’s not yours.” He complained and you squinted in suspicion. “That’s Atom’s.”

“I have an innate sense of di-rec-tion.” You pointed out, holding up a finger. “I know where I’m supposed to be.”

“Alright, Magellan.” He laughed slightly and offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

“Oh no you don’t.” You wagged your finger and hiccuped. “I know how that goes. You bring me to your tent, you play the hero, and you think I’ll sleep with you.”

“No, Y/N, I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He sighed.

“Well why not?” You stomped, now offended. “I’ll have you know I’m spectacular.”

“I’m sure you are.” He rolled his eyes slightly and grabbed your wrist. “But I’m not gonna sleep with you when you’re wasted like this, so come with me… Please.”

You gasped dramatically. “Bellamy Blake knows the word ‘please’? I have to-“ Hiccup. “-tell everyone.”

He sighed slightly before he leaned down and looped his other arm around the back of your leg. You made a face to yourself but before you could say anything, he threw you over his shoulders. You squealed and kicked your feet, banging your fists weakly against him.

“Put me down!” You laughed. “Damn you, Bellamy!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered, but there was amusement in his voice. He carried you to a tent and dropped you on your feet.

You stumbled when your feet hit the floor and you let yourself drop to the floor. You giggled when you landed and looked up at him. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows were raised, as if he expected you to say something. You huffed and crossed your arms the same way.

“You have, like, the biggest tent.” You looked around his space.

“What’s your point?” He sighed.

You threw your hands to the side which made you wobble slightly. Your eyes went big as you regained your balance before you laughed again. You looked back to Bellamy and he was already looking at you.

“You wanna know something?” You said loudly and crawled over to sit across from him.

“You’re gonna tell me anyway.” He crossed his arms again.

“I like your curly hair.” You said simply and he couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “You always had it like slicked back on the Ark.”

“Thanks?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You thank people for compliments.”

“You’re not usually the compliment type.” He rolled his eyes. “Usually you’re the ‘kicking me in the shin’ type.”

“I could do that too.” You nodded. “But! I will not.”

“Lucky me.”

“Don’t you be mean to me again!” You thrust a finger forward and the sudden movement made you dizzy for a moment. “You’re always mean.”

“Coming from the girl who has a comment everytime I say anything to her?” He commented with a small laugh.

“Because you’re mean.” You glared. “But you’re pretty, so it’s a give and take I guess.” You shrugged.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “How much did you drink tonight?”

“I don’t like your tone, Blake!”

“And I don’t really care.”

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You changed the subject. You couldn’t quite remember how much you had.

“What do you mean?” He cocked his head.

“You’re mean to me.” You frowned and counted off your statements. “You don’t laugh at my jokes. You never let me do things. You used to make fun of me on the Ark and that’s why I kick your stupid shins. You always give me that look.”

“What look?”

“That look! Like you’re trying to make me spontaneously combust.”

He shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, I never said I didn’t like you.”

“But you’re mean.” You pouted.

He knelt down in front of you and you pursed your bottom lip.

“I’m gonna tell you this now, because you probably won’t remember it in the morning.” He said quietly, like it was a secret.

You leaned in, reaching for him to keep your steady. He caught your hands and you felt a sobering heat on your cheeks.

“I do like you, Y/N.” He said, wide eyes and a small smile. “It started as a crush when we were kids and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about you, looking for you in the crowds and trying to find an excuse to talk to you.”

“No way.” You whispered.

“I know.” His smile drew a little wider. “I never meant to be mean.”

“You’re not that mean.” You shrugged. “Let’s just say it was banter.”

“Banter.” He repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, alright.”

“Like in those books!” You announced. “Where they act like they hate each other but they’re actually madly in love.”

“Let’s go with that then.” He nodded, that small smile still playing on his lips. “Do you want me to walk you to your tent?”

“I don’t think I could make it back to my tent.” You confessed before a fit of giggles. “I feel like I’m gonna fall over as soon as I get up.”

“What happened to that innate sense of direction?” He asked as he helped you to your feet.

You shrugged. “It seems to have left me.”

“Or you never had it.”

“I still have a foot and you still have shins.” You warned, though the slurring of your words left them without any threat. “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I won’t kick the hell outta you. It’s called duality.”

He shook his head and helped you shuffle across the tent. Carefully, you two laid down and you felt the world shift as you did so. You made a noise, something like the joking sound of a ghost, and slammed a hand to the blankets. Bellamy’s hand closed over yours and you looked over at him. You broke into a grin and he returned the smile, not as wide as yours but an honest smile.

You shifted over and put your head against his shoulder. He adjusted his arm so it was draped over your chest and you two just laid there for a while. You continued to talk, about anything and everything. A butterfly you saw earlier that day. A conversation you had with Octavia. What you remembered from your earlier drinking game. Before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep.

And for the first time since you stepped foot on the ground, you truly felt safe.

When you woke up, you had no idea how late into the day it was. Bellamy was still beside you, so you doubted it was that late. Your head pounded as you pushed yourself to sit up and glanced around.

Your brows furrowed as you realized you weren’t in your own tent.

You slapped a hand over your mouth when you realized. You peeked over your shoulder again and it sunk in that you weren’t in your tent. You were in Bellamy’s.

You muttered to yourself in panic as you got up quickly. Your clothes were which both left you relieved and oddly disappointed. At least he didn’t try to hook up with you when you were drunk, but being drunk might’ve been the only way you’d be confident enough to sleep with him.

You snuck a glance outside the tent and saw there weren’t many people around. With a sigh of relief, you stepped out and immediately winced at the brightness of the sun.

“Hello Sleeping Beauty!” Jasper yelled from basically across camp and you cringed as more heads turned in your direction.

You hurried over and whacked him on the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” He complained.

“For making people stare at me!” You hissed.

“What difference does it make?” He laughed. “Oh, I see. You don’t want people to see you coming out of Bellamy’s tent.”

“Shut up!”

“Why? You didn’t have any problems going into Bellamy’s tent last night.”

“Jasper, I swear I will kill you!”

He laughed and threw his arm over your shoulders. “But seriously, Y/N/N. Yesterday you were ready to tear his head off, now you’re tearing his clothes off.”

You elbowed him in the ribs.

“Lay off, Jasper.” Bellamy said, suddenly at your side.

You stiffened for a moment before you hid your face in your hands. You complained to yourself, ignoring whatever the boys were saying around you, and wished to disappear. You peeked between your fingers and saw Jasper leave. Hoping Bellamy left too, you dropped your hands.

You were wrong.

“You feel okay?” Bellamy asked.

“Mortified, actually.” You answered. “But I didn’t kill my liver last night, just a headache. I’m fine, thanks…”

He gestured for you to follow and hesitantly, you did.

“You were pretty drunk last night.” He began as you fell into stride with him.

“Well aware, thank you.” You rolled your eyes. “I do appreciate you not leaving me on the ground. Can’t say I would’ve done the same for you, but…” You shrugged.

Bellamy laughed slightly.

“What?” You asked quickly.

“You don’t remember what you said last night, do you?” He smiled at you.

You were so taken aback by it, the true delight and shine of his smile, that you tripped over your own feet. You landed on your back and groaned, more in embarrassment than anything. Bellamy knelt beside you with an amused smirk and you threw your arms over your face.

“Kill me now.” You groaned. “What did I say last night?”

You wished you could melt into the floor.

“That you’re madly in love with me.”

You could hear the smile he still wore. You sat up quickly and nearly collided with him.

“I did not say that.” You defended quickly. You may not remember much of the night before but you sure as hell would’ve remembered saying that.

“I know, I was shocked. And then you said you just had to have me. You were pretty persistent.”

You squinted in suspicion but he feigned innocence.

“It’s true.” He shrugged.

You kicked his arm since you couldn’t reach his shins, but he just laughed.

“It’s alright, though. Wanna know why?” He smirked.

“Go on and enlighten me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Cause I might be madly in love with you too.”

“Might?” You raised your eyebrows. “So you just let any girl you might be in love with sleep with you?”

“Hey now. You tell people we slept together, they might get the wrong idea.” He offered you a hand to help you to your feet.

“Oh, please.” You scoffed. “It’s gonna take more than a few drinks and those pretty curls to get me in bed with you.”

His hands were suddenly on your waist and he pulled you flush against him.

“Worked last night.” He shrugged.

“Beginner’s luck.” You rolled your eyes. “Bet it won’t happen again.”

“You’re on.”

“And when I win?”

“When I win, you’ll be in my bed. If you win, I’ll be in yours.”

[hrtsdevils]

dog-eared. | jh86

summary reader and jack broke up before he was drafted to the nhl. after years of watching from afar, jack finally sees y/n in person. past feelings are brought up to the surface.

pairing jack hughes x fem!reader

wc 2.6k

an my lovers… also another gracie fc sorry idk what to tell you! also for the sake of the plot pretend that the devils play the ducks on tuesday instead of vancouver thanks!!! loosely based off of everywhere everything by noah kahan ft gracie abrams

It had been years since you’d seen Jack. You broke up right before he started his NHL career as it seemed like your plans didn’t align. You’d be going to college in California, as USC had been your dream school your whole life. You dreamed of living somewhere where it was sunny and it was never freezing, unlike the weather in your hometown of Toronto. He dreamed of making it big in the professional league, which he was so close to achieving already.

The breakup between you two was mostly mutual. It happened in your 2005 Honda Civic, in the parking lot of a gas station after you had gone to buy soft drinks. The two of you could feel the breakup impending, and it felt as if the weather channel told you a meteor would be hitting Earth within minutes. As if the sun was about to collapse. The silence was deafening as you started your car, putting your drink in the cup holder. He followed suit.

“I..” He started before you cut him off.

“You think we need to break up?” You asked, giving him a soft smile. It wasn’t genuine, it was quite the opposite. You just didn’t want him to feel guilty, you thought it was the right thing as well.

He nodded softly, “I just think we’re on two separate paths… you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Your hands tensed under your thighs, as you were using them as hand warmers. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttons.” That had been his nickname for you since the 8th grade. You had a perfect little button nose, and it quickly caught on and everybody would use it for you as well.

The drive back to his parents’ house was in silence, as neither of you had much to say to each other. In about ten minutes, you were parked in front of his house. “You’re still going to come to my birthday party, right?” You asked. You were turning eighteen in a few weeks, June 7th.

“Yeah, I will.” He smiled sadly, “It’s not over. We’re just separating until we get brought back together.”

You huffed, “When’s that? Whenever fate decides?”

“Precisely. Call it a dog ear.. you like to read, right?”

“Yeah, I would never doggy ear my books though.” You giggled, “Bye, Jacky.”

That was the last you talked formally. He never did come to your party, texting you an excuse about how he had a training camp that day. You didn’t believe it, but you never said anything about it. It had been years, you watched him succeed from your dorm room and then to your small apartment couch. Your roommates never understood your love for the sport, but you always attributed it to being from up north.

That was a reason, but not the only one.

Every year you anticipated the Devils coming down to Anaheim to play the Ducks. That was practically the only time you watched Jack in person. You were particularly excited this year, as his little brother Luke would be playing too. You adored Luke, he was so sweet and well-mannered, especially to you. Trevor would also be there. He wouldn’t be playing as he was injured, but you’d caught him after a few games to catch up and he was your little piece of Michigan in California.

It was a Friday game, which met that the tickets were slightly higher and there were fewer of them. You finally got your good friend, Cecilia, to agree to go with you. She was familiar with your love of hockey, and she knew you went to a lot of games. She didn’t know you knew two players on the ice, and two players up in the press box. As you were buying your tickets with her, you got a text from Trevor.

trevor zegras 🐣 : hey buttons r u coming to the game? idk cause jacks playing

You hastily replied, trying to shield your phone from Cece in the most subtle way possible.

y/n buttons : yeahhhh i was jst about to buy my tickets bahaha

trevor zegras 🐣 : don’t buy them ❌❌ i have a club ticket right above the benches if u want it

y/n buttons : usually yes i’d love to but i’m bringing my friend cece

trevor zegras 🐣 : i have 2! i’ll send em to u later

y/n buttons : thanks trev i appreciate u ☺️

You put your phone down and closed your laptop. Cece was a couple feet away on hers, but looked at you when your laptop snapped shut. “Did you buy them?” She questioned, scooting closer to you. You shook your head.

“Kind of? Well, one of my friends is on the team and he’s injured, he offered us seats right behind the bench.”

Her jaw fell slightly, “You never told me you had connections!”

You smiled, “I don’t really, I usually buy my tickets. This was a first time thing, I think he might be drunk.” You tried to explain it in the least suspicious way possible. You didn’t want to seem boastful, but an explaination had to come from somewhere.

You two discussed the arrangements for a couple minutes longer. From outfits to hair to transportation, you were more excited for this game than you had been for any others. Maybe it was because it was Jack’s team, or maybe it was because someone finally seemed to share your admiration for the sport.

Who knows, it was probably the latter.

The day came quick, as it was only a day or two out from your initial conversation. The tickets usually dropped in price right before the game, but luckily you didn’t have to spend the money on it regardless. You lended Cece a Zegras jersey that he got you, while you chose to wear an unnamed 30th anniversary jersey. You still had a few hoodies with Jack’s last name on the back, from his time with USNDTP, but you wouldn’t be wearing those tonight.

You arrived shortly before warm-ups, but when you looked at your section and seat numbers you realized Trevor wasn’t lying about you being right behind the bench. He just never mentioned that it was the away bench. You watched from your seat as the boys entered from the tunnel. They weren’t facing you, but you watched to make sure they didn’t turn around at least not now.

You managed to go a little while without being seen by Luke or Jack, that was until Cecelia got extremely into the game. The Devils had a goal in the late first period, opening up the scoring. Luke was sitting on the bench about a foot to the left of Cece, and once they scored she started banging on the glass.

As he stood up to cheer, he turned around due to the banging. The first thing he did was make eye contact with you. His eyebrows raised, and he blinked as if you’d disappear when his eyes opened. He didn’t say anything as you tried to avoid his gaze, and simply turned back around.

The game continued on, and you didn’t see him say anything to Jack. Soon enough, it was intermission and you felt safer. Like eyes weren’t on you anymore, even though they never were. It went by fairly quickly as the two of you watched the silly halftime games that usually were played by young children. As soon as the Devils came back through the tunnel, Jack turned around and looked at you. He kept sneaking glances as they warmed up again before the start of the second.

The rest of the game wasn’t as fun, as the brunette kept staring at you. As if you couldn’t go to hockey games, his hockey games. As if he couldn’t help looking at you. As if he missed you.

It didn’t help that Cece kept shouting at you, telling you that the cute one kept staring at you and that he wanted you. You knew her best interest was at heart, but she had no idea the magnitude of your situation with said cute one. You entertained her teasing of you, and how she kept pointing at you everytime Jack glanced your way.

By the end of the game you were over it. You wanted to escape and go home before the off chance that you ran into Jack actually happened. It was relieving when you got into the car, but startling when your phone lit up with a single message from Jack. Cece was giggling to herself, looking up one of the cute guys she saw on Instagram. She was oblivious to the situation

jack hughes : hi why were u there

You tried to think of an excuse, but eventually you realized it wouldn’t matter if you told the truth or not.

buttons 🩷 : because i was given tix my trevor.. and i go to a lot of ducks games

jack hughes : oh no other reason?

buttons 🩷 : u think i went for u?

jack hughes : maybe a little. sorry for bothering u buttons.

buttons 🩷 : don’t be sorry. how long are you in anaheim?

jack hughes : tonight n then flying up to seattle

buttons 🩷 : where r u staying?

It was a twenty minute drive back up to your apartment, but with your speeding it was around seventeen. Cece didn’t question your urgency as you dropped her off at your shared apartment, and left immediately after. She was a little bit tipsy. As you drove to the Marriott in Anaheim, you thought about what you were doing.

Throwing away years of peace for the same boy who disrupted it all those years ago. If you started to have feelings for him again, who knows how much you life could be uprooted? Everything could be ruined. All the progress and the getting over Jack. Your Jack. You knew you were risking your own personal journey by going to see him, but at this point you didn’t care.

The hotel receptionist was reluctant to let you up, as she knew who was staying there. The skepticism on her face was present from the very moment you walked in.

“Look, I know him and I know his room number, so can you just let me go up?” You pleaded with hed. Going to a room usually wasn’t necessarily an issue, the issue here was that a sports team was staying. She might’ve thought you were a crazy stalker fan.

As she was about to answer, Jack exited the elevator and spotted you talking to the receptionist. “She’s with me.” He told her, as he walked up to the desk. “Thanks, though.” You had texted him a minute prior about the receptionist, but you didn’t expect him to rush down.

“Hi.” You breathed as you made your way toward the elevator, “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good.” He stopped before the elevator, “Would you rather go for a drive? I’m sharing a room with Luke.”

Your story paused in a car, so you were unsure how this would turn out. Maybe it will be different this time. “Sure.” You replied softly.

You two walked to your car in silence. You were about to get in the driver’s seat, but he insisted on driving. “You should drive slow around here, there’s a bunch of cops at night because of drunk college students.” You chuckled, “I’ll tell you when you can speed.”

You buckled up, and he started your car. It was an upgrade from your Honda, being a more recent model of a Nissan. “So, why’d you come to the game?” He asked as he pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot.

“I go to a lot of Duck’s games. Trevor plays, of course I go watch him.” You started, “He offered me club tickets, and I figured they were behind his bench. They weren’t, obviously.”

“So you didn’t go for me?” He questioned once again, “I don’t believe that, Buttons.”

You rolled your eyes, “I kind of did. I’ve been while you were playing for the last three years, but I still like hockey in general.”

“I’ll believe that.” The silence sat for a little while as he drove 25 down the city roads, the radio wasn’t even playing. “Do you think we could’ve done long distance?”

You shook your head, “No, not then at least. That’s why we broke it off. Maybe now.” You said the last part quieter, just enough so that if he wasn’t paying attention he wouldn’t have heard it.

But of course he was paying attention. You were his everything before, and possibly even now.

“Now?” He questioned, “What do you mean by that?”

“When we broke up, you said our page was dog-eared. Bookmarked. It was more like a pause until we were ready and mature, or at least that’s how I took it.”

He smiled, “I remember that. Do you think we’re ready and mature?”

You shrugged, looking at him. “Maybe, just this semester and then I’m done. I chose to graduate a semester early. I could move back east, we could be closer. Even without I think we’d be mature enough for long distance.”

The chances of this moment happening just weeks before you graduated was an alignment of the stars in itself. This could be everything you wanted, without disrupting your peace.

“If you need a place to stay, you can always stay with me and Luke.” He offered, “To get on your feet, if you come back.”

“Maybe.” You hummed. His hand was resting on the gear shift, even though it was an automatic. You made a move to lay your hand on top of his, squeezing it gently.

It was a soft step in the right direction. A step to getting the love of your life back, which is what you’d wanted since the minute you broke it off. It’s been a long three years without him, he was your best friend and you intended to make up for the lost time soon enough. You wouldn’t bring up how he never contacted you either, because it was far in the past. You were both kids at the time and you can’t hold a grudge about that.

As he re-entered the hotel parking lot, you smiled at him. Your hands were now intertwined on top of the cup holder region, and you never wanted to let go. His hand was more rugged than before, matured and weathered, but it was still a comfort you had missed. He dropped it to shift the car into park.

“So, I’ll see you soon then?” He asked, as you got ready to get out. 45 minutes had passed between getting into the car and now. You conversed about your current life and your future. Your future together.

You nodded, “Yeah, hopefully. Keep in touch, okay? No ghosting me.” You stepped out of the car and walked around to the driver's side as he got out as well.

The two of you shared a hug, but exchanged little words. You could hear the cars around you, and the sounds of the city were still alive. “Bye, Jack.” You released him from your embrace.

“Bye, Buttons.” He smiled, “I’ll text you.” He turned around and walked back to the hotel as you watched, a smile gracing your features as well.

You’d love him forever, whether you got back together or not. You believed he felt the same. You were glad that Trevor had known about the seating on the tickets, and made sure they got to you. You were also glad Luke saw and recognized you. You were excited to see him. The end was over, and the new start was just beginning.

[aphroditesmoon]

lacrymosa [part 1]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 2

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: basically pjo plot in a different font, wlw relationships and what that entails, artist!reader. warnings will be according to the chapter.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: part 2 will hv more clarisse, also I've never been good at finishing series, but here's to an attempt! Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

The violent wind coming from outside of the car window sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You readjust your sitting position, pushing your school bag further away from you.

"Would you like to close the window, miss?" The driver asked, sparing a glance to your way. "No, it's fine." You assured him.

You have always liked the cold, it calms your nerves in a way. And for a day like this, you need all the help you can get.

Your father hadn't even been home to see you off for the last time. But you were kind of grateful for that. Usually you'd find it upsetting. But it was a clear decision that he purposely wanted you out of his line of vision when he had registered you into this boarding school.

Prestigious and highly acclaimed, he called it. Those were just polite words for strict and overbearing.

You have stopped wasting time trying to figure out why he hates you. Your mother dying from your birth was only the tip of the iceberg. Your whole existence is a burden to him, no matter how hard you've tried to change it.

I wonder if I'll even miss the hostility he's always given me, or the empty white walls of his mansions that have seen me at my worst and at my best. Those thoughts shouldn't matter anymore, you told yourself.

You've never been happy in that house, but familiarity, sometimes, was better than nothing. You fiddled with your crimson red tie that came with the uniform. What you could tell from the way you're dressed along with the down payment your father had to pay for you is that this place is an exaggerated babysitting place for rich kids with attitude problems.

You've been sent to many places away from your father. Summer camp, Spring camp, summer school and all that. But nothing this far away.

As per your research, the school seemed to be located far from the city and near the mountains up north. There are two buildings divided by gender that stands a few meters away from each other. Not that it'd be a problem for you. You've never been interested in boys much.

It was sunny earlier on the road, but the nearer you are to your destination, the cloudier the sky gets. "Looks like it's about to rain." You mumbled to yourself.

"That's normal here, miss. The weather here's always cold." The driver spoke from the front. You hadn't realized that he heard what you said.

It was a few minutes later when you finally see a large building from a distance. The view lived up to it's reputation even from a far. You feel your heart sinking into a stomach, the anxiety worsening.

This was it. This will be your home for the next 2 or 3 years.

Your driver speeds up once drizzling rain begins to fall down from the sky. You allow him to close the window from his seat and lower down the ac.

Feeling your fingers pruning up, you rub your palms together for warmth after reaching for your bag, pulling it closer to you.

The weather wasn't going to be a problem, and hopefully the people here won't be too.

---

When the car slowed down in front of the entrance, you let yourself take in the view of it all, girls ranging from your ages to younger, walking past of sitting by the stairs. All of them wearing the same thing that you are.

You didn't mean to make the driver open the door for you, but he did anyways as you're too distracted to stop him.

He moves straight to the back to retrieve your other bags as you step out of the vehicle. Some of the girls stopped and stared at you, knowing how rare it is to have new students here.

You couldn't tell what lies behind their long glares and gazes, but you had a feeling that they were eyeing you up like a predator does to their prey. Focusing on the large cream and white colored building staring you down, your heart whispered out a hopeful wish that you could just get back in the car and drive off.

You fix up your plaited skirt and turn towards your driver. "Do you need help to bring these in?" He asks.

You shook your head, immediately taking them into your hands. "No, I got it. But thank you." He smiled warmly as he shut the car hood close. "Have a great year, miss." He tells you politely before walking back to the driver's seat.

And that was the last familiar face you'll ever see for the rest of the semester. You lift up your hand in a tiny wave as you watch him reverse and drive off from the school ground.

You see him wave back before he finally disappears for good.

The staircase made it harder for you and your bags, and if you were expecting any kind eyes to offer some help, none came to it. Instead they all looked at you like you were stupid.

You counted the steps under your breath, stopping when you reached number 5, and then starting back again from 1. It was also an effort to keep your anxiety together, but at certain times like these, you wondered if breathing exercises are all lies made up by a psychiatrist to worsen someone symptom and continue to drive them crazy.

After a couple series of 1 to 5s, you finally made it to the top of the stairwell and into the open doors of the school.

If the rain outside hadn't been freezing your toes, inside was much more brutal. The school is air conditioned, of course it is.

When you said you liked cold, you didn't mean the frozen kind. The strawberry pink socks you're wearing aren't doing you any favors either as you breath out a tired sigh, full hands dragging your bags with you until you reach a tiny counter with the label "office" above the glass.

A teacher, or a guardian, sits inside, working on some paperwork. She looked up when she heard the rolling sound of the wheels on your bag and offered a small smile.

"You're new here, I take it?" You nodded your head and pursed your lips tightly. "Can I have your name?"

You gave her the information needed, from yoir name to your birth certificate. And once she's done compiling the necessary paperworks into a file, she stacks it in the shelves behind her.

"Here's your class schedule, and here's your dorm key." You slid the key onto your pocket and slipped the paper under your arms as you listened to her explaining how the dorm building is in a complete other side of this place, and that you'd have to drag your bags back down the lengthy staircase and walk another 6 minutes towards the other building on the left of the school. Not to be mistaken with the boy's dorms on the right.

You ignored the continuous staring from the other student as you forced yourself down again, and into the left.

The road to the dorm was nicely designed, a straightly drawn black and white concrete pavement in squares with grass on its side. It made the place look more homely. But of course, it wasn’t really gonna fool anyone.

The dragging became easier on the ground. You thanked the gods once you got to the other building once you spotted an elevator. Your first thought was, oh thank fuck for these rich assholes. And your second thought was, oh these are some real rich assholes.

There are less staring here since mostly everyone is already in school. You took your time walking once you're out of the elevator, reading the large signs of the dorm level names.

There are 20 levels to be accurate. And yours, unfortunately, is level 20.

You stood up straight in that elevator for what felt like a whole 10 minutes until it dinged open. Finding your room was much easier, you didn't have to walk very far to find your door. You used the key given to you to unlock the doors and pushed your bags into the room first before you.

You halted for a minute when you met with two strange girls from the inside.

Your roommates apparently have not gone to their classes yet and are still here. They looked at you expectantly as you stared right back.

"Uh-" your daydreams broke. "I'm new here." You announced.

One of the two laughed slightly and shook their head. "We know, we were waiting for you. I'm Harper, and this is Olivia." They extended their hands and you shook them without question.

"So, where'd you come from?" Olivia asks. She had beautiful green eyes and wavy blonde hair. Harper on the other hand, had dark hair and bold blue eyes. Next to each other, the two looks quite the pair. You began rearranging your bags on your side and taking out important things needed for your classes as you answer their inquiries. "New York."

"A city girl, that's nice. The difference here must be jarring." You snorted whilst you hang your clothes on to your small closet. "Very."

They walked out with you once you were done unpacking, leading you back to the school.

"The teachers won't mind you being late, with you being new and all that. But make a habit out of it and you'll get a penalty for it." Harper explained. "Penalty?"

They both nodded and kept on walking up towards the entrance. "Attendance is very important, this isn't public school, lying about health problems to get out of class or skip and disappear for more than 3 times, you could get expelled."

That is insane, you thought. "I didn't know they're that strict." Harper smirked and shrugged at that. "Yeah, I mean unless you're a legacy student, or your parents donate a lot for the school, you won't get many benefits."

Of course, even among the rich, the most privileged still get to escape justice and fairness. "Are you both legacy students?"

"No." Olivia snorted. "What's your locker number?" She takes a peek at your papers and moved right to your locker, opening it with ease.

"Thanks." You tell her while shoving your books inside of it.

"There aren't many legacy students here." Harper spoke from your side, referring back to your question from earlier.

"There are only certain families with histories deeply rooted within the school walls, like Luke Castellan or Silena.”

Your brows raises at those names as the three of you leaned back on the lockers. "Let me guess, they're brats who can get you expelled?"

"Worse." Olivia corrected with a sarcastic smile. "They can do whatever shit they want to you, and will not get expelled for it."

"But don't worry, half of them are decent, just don't piss them off and they'll leave you alone." You nod in understanding, knowing that it was your plan anyways, even if they hadn't warned you.

"Luke's not even entitled or mean, he's actually pretty nice. He helped me take out a book from the library once." Olivia added, wiggling her brows.

"You're just saying that because you like him." Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Even if I didn't, he's still not an ass." The bell rang the minute her sentence was finished. The two girls groaned and started saying their goodbyes before they parted ways to attend their classes.

"Meet up back for lunch?" Harper initiates. "Sure." You told her before following her directions to pre Calculus.

Your brain still hadn't fully registered what just happened. You just made two new friends, and that is a relief. Though you enjoy your alone time along with some quiet and peace, that doesn't mean you don't get lonely or feel isolated. Having bad social skills doesn't exactly equate to joy wanting a social life at all.

You walk into the half filled classroom and scan the space for an empty seat.

Some kids up front started whispering to themselves as they watched you from the corner of their eyes, but none of them tried speaking to you directly.

You flinch when you heard the teacher's voice, booming through the classroom as she enters right behind you. "You're the new girl?" She drops her bag onto her chair and looked you directly in your eyes.

"Yes." The teacher hummed to herself and turned towards her other students. "Do we have any empty seats at the back?" She asks loudly.

"There's one, but it's Chase's." A boy responded. "He's not in today, is he?" He shook his head at her.

"Alright, you can sit there temporarily, I'll ask the boys to bring in an extra table and chair for you tomorrow." You thanked her and walked right to your seat.

Grateful to be seated at the last row by the window, you slumped against the chair, relaxing your back.

The kids at the front stop wasting their time twisting their heads to stare at you, and as the class begins, you tell yourself that maybe this isn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

-

Your first class ever had been less exciting than expected. You had spent the last 20 minutes of the class trying not to doze off.

Barely any sleep came to you last night, considering how nervous you were for this day. All the worries you've had were for nothing, so far it's all been a bore, and all you wanted to do was to crawl back on to your bed at home and escape all of this strangeness.

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself. You've been all alone your whole life, how different is it now?

The girl on the seat next to yours had craned her neck in your direction, trying to peek through your notebook. Instinctively, you closed over it with your arm.

She did not need to see how there are zero equations in your notebook, all replaced with doodles of flowers and frogs.

When all is hopeless, your passion is where you turn to. Life is suffering in parts, but you find that being able to make it into art, makes the suffering less painful, or at least, more manageable.

Your father had never liked how you prefer to spend your time in art class over piano. In fact, when you were much younger, he even took the initiative to throw out all of your sketchbook. You had to find time to practice your drawing when you aren't at home, knowing his ignorance for your privacy.

But here, hopefully, you'll have ample time to draw and paint.

Once the class is dismissed, you make your way straight into the bathroom, trying to get into a booth before it gets crowded. You caught a glimpse of your reflection from the mirror and cringed at yourself. For some reason, even when you're not doing anything, the school air still finds a way to turn your hair frizzy.

You ran into the small space with open doors and knocked it shut as soon as you're in.

You could hear footsteps entering in right after you're done peeing. A cacophony of running sink water and empty chatter fills your ears as you stood up to fix your skirt and your socks.

The zip of your skirt seemed to have an issue getting stuck on a piece of string, holding it back from fully zipping up. You lifted it up higher and pulled the string out before using your teeth to rip it off of the zip and waving it onto the floor.

There was a moment of silence outside the door just before you were going to exit it. But a loud sound of slamming doors and laughter stops you at your place.

"Lock the doors." You hear another female voice command. She was not shouting, but she had a bold voice that seemed fit for a leader, straight to the point and confident.

Any noise of giggling or chatting immediately died down the moment the girl and her friends stepped in, and now you wonder if getting out would be a good idea at all. So you stayed quiet inside the bathroom.

Your palms are held against the door while you lean into it, trying to hear her clearer.

"What did I tell you last week?" The girl spoke again. She sounded upset or the second worst thing, disappointed.

Another voice rose up in response, meeker in comparison. "You said to have it by Monday."

"It's Wednesday today."

"But I have it now!" The other girl pleaded. "I don't care. I asked for it on Monday, you're two days late." The silence that came after her words was worrying. It was only when she spoke again that you felt your racing heart slowing down.

"You know what you're gonna do right now?" She asks. Silence. "You're going to hand me the money, and then you're going to give me 20 on the ground, right here."

20 what? You frowned in confusion. Money?

You expected resistance, begging, or even defiance from the other girl, but you only heard a resigned sigh from the other side of the door.

The door creaked slightly. You tried to balance yourself away from it when you accidentally slipped. Your fingers reach for the door handle to pull yourself up, and just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the door slams back on its hinges. You cursed yourself internally.

"What the fuck." The first girl snapped. "Booth number 2." She called out. "Get out of there right now or I'll break the door now."

Your breath hitches at the direct interaction and your hands hesitate to unlock the booth. But you'd rather get it over with than risk being taunted in a toilet.

You unlatch the lock with your fingers and slowly pull open the door. The first face you're met with is the one you assume who had addressed you seconds ago.

She had a naturally terrifying expression, with her brows knitted together and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. The bronze skinned girl connecting her gaze to yours.

The staring did not last as she soon started eyeing you up and down like she's analyzing every bad decision you've ever made.

But when she lifts her head back up to your face, you noticed that her frowning had lessened slightly. "You're new." She states aloud.

"How'd you know?" You ask her. "Anyone who's been here for more than a week would have the mind to run out of the bathroom as soon as they heard me." She answered coolly, taking a few steps nearer to you.

"What's your name?" She asks you. You tell her your first name.

She hums in acknowledgement before repeating your name, letting the syllables roll against her tongue. "I assume you haven't been making any friends yet, have you?"

You tried not to look to her side at the girl that was currently half squatting on the floor. "You're making her do push ups." You think aloud, ignoring her question.

"What? Oh, her? She's not important, and she's lucky i’m only making her do 25." The girl waved off like it's a silly joke. "I thought you said 20?" The other girl muttered under her breath.

She snapped her head at the younger girl and glared at her. "One more word and I'll make it 30."

Turning her head back to you, the anger she bore dissolved. "It's a good thing you've met me," she started. "In this place, it's all about making the right type of friends, just in case and not enemies."

"I don't plan on making enemies." You tell her. She was trying to intimidate you. Or at least, ruffle your feathers.

"No one does, but they just do it anyways without realizing." She answers with a shrug.

"And I suppose, if I'm with you, I won't fall down that road?" You didn't mean for it to sound insulting or sarcastic, but when she raised a brow in response, a ghost of smirk over her face, you realized that it was too late to take back your words.

"No, you won't. Because I am that enemy that you should be avoiding." You wondered if she is one of those people that's all talk and no bite, but the way she's folding her arms together as she stands inches away from you, radiated something much more sinister than you'd expect from a typical bully.

"I have to go." You say suddenly, a sense of urgency filled you when you remembered that Harper and Olivia would be waiting for you in the cafeteria. "I won't tell anyone about this." You added, trying to make sure there'd be no bad blood between the two of you.

"You can tell anyone you'd like, it wouldn't matter." She replies, stepping away from you to lean her back on the sink counter.

You clicked your heels away from her and made your way out, taking off the locks before you could swing the door open. You could feel her gaze on you as you left, but didn't twist your head back to confirm.

It didn't matter who she was. A few hours from now you'd forget you even met her, and just like always, you'll blend in with the crowd and be out of her sight.

---

"Where have you been?" Harper inquired once you sat next to her.

She had half a donut in her mouth as she asked this. "Don't talk with your mouth full." You chided her. She groans and mumbles something else you can't understand but chews the food until she's finished before she speaks again.

"We waited for like 10 minutes, you know recess isn't that long." You took a bite of your own sandwich and shrugged at her like nothing. "I was in the bathroom, there was a line." Harper nodded in understanding, but Olivia made a face of disgust as she toyed with her food.

"I hate the bathroom here, the dorm bathrooms are better." She said.

"What if you really need to pee?" You ask in disbelief. "I hold it in."

"What if you had explosive diarrhea?"

"Well, that would suck." Harper chokes out laugh, trying not to spit out her donut. You joined her with a chuckle, shaking your head at your friend.

"Your fear of public bathrooms will be the death of you." Harper quipped after taking a long sip of water. "I think it makes me stronger." Olivia argues.

"Well, I think it's gonna mess with your bladder." The brunette argues back. You listen to their back and forth until the bell rings again, indicating the end of recess.

You were a bit bummed that your classes aren't aligned with theirs, your nerves are much less triggered when they're around, a sense of familiarity of a sort.

Though, there was nothing you can do about it. You say your goodbyes at your lockers and parted ways again for your last 2 classes. The rest of school time was made bearable with the reminder that you at least shared rooms with your two new friends, and so there was nothing to worry about at all actually.

A part of you feels safer when you're around them. Though your mind is constantly bringing up the girl you've met in the bathroom. Her brown eyes and the way she looked at you.

She didn't strike you as someone admirable, but you had to admit, her features were remarkable. You had pulled out a pencil and a paper for a quick sketch of her eyes during Literature class.

It only hit you then, that you haven't even asked for her name. She knew yours, but you didn't know hers.

What would it matter? You asked yourself. If all goes well, you'll never see her for the whole semester at all. And she'd be nothing more than another face in your sketchbook.

You paid attention to the lesson, but your hands just needed something to work on while you were listening. Tapping your fingers repeatedly on the table was getting old, so you got productive and drew up a little something.

You had managed only half of her face on the paper by the time the class ended. Slipping the book into your tote bag, you follow the rush of students leaving class and heading back to your locker to switch your books for the last class.

-

It was 8pm when you were finally in the dorm elevator, back against the cold silver metal, relieving the warmth that radiated off of your body. The gym here is open all day and night, and even if the only equipment they had was a treadmill, you intended to utilise them fully.

Working out helps to take your mind off things, and it tires you out enough to help you sleep easier at night.

And so while everyone went back to their dorms, you stashed your bag by the gym entrance and tied your hair back up and went ahead for a good 40 minutes run.

You kept your eyes on the elevator level, watching the number get higher and higher until it eventually reached 20. It dinged open and allows you out with your poor tired feet and worn out expression.

It was quiet on the top floor, nothing like you’d predict what with the hour still being early. The small light bulbs above your head led you straight down the long corridor until you reached your room.

You took out your key and slashed it into the keyhole and heard your friends’ voices evolving from muffled noises into a clearer state as you pushed the door open.

You expected the girls to scold you over your absence again, as you do make it a habit of going places without letting them know, but what you didn't expect once you enter your dorm room, is for them to genuinely fret over your late arrival.

"You can't just disappear without telling anyone!" Olivia exclaimed, her large green eyes staring into your soul as you took your uniform off. "I was at the gym." You explained.

“In your school clothes?” Harper scrunches her nose in disagreement. “Hey, it's convenient.” You retorted.

"Were there other people there?" You shook your head no. "Well, maybe next time we'll go with you. I know you're not used to the unspoken rules here, but there are seriously more creeps than you can imagine in this place."

They were both sitting on their beds as they're talking to you, fully dressed in their matching pajamas like twins.

Harper had a face mask on as she rested her head on her pillows, her elbows used to help her sit up. They had music playing in the background, a song you recognized as Tourniquet by Evanescence. “I love this song.” You say randomly.

“Don’t change the subject.” You look over at them in confusion once you're finished changing.

"I didn't know it'd be such a big deal, I'm doing what everyone else does."

"I know, but I'm just saying, maybe we should all just play it safe for the semester. We don’t want another Samara accident." Harper reasoned.

You walked over to sit by the edge of her bed and asked her who's Samara.

"Samara Turner. She's a senior from last year. Some kid found her passed out by the back garden, her eyes were rolled back, and she was basically frothing from the mouth. When the ambulance came, it was too late. She was gone."

“Are you just making this up to scare me?” You ask them suspiciously. “No!” Olivia denies. “It's a real story, the teachers covered it up real good for future students, not even the news got a hold of Samara's fate.”

"Does anyone know what really happened?" You questioned them.

"The police ruled it as an overdose, but I can't imagine any type of drug running through her veins. And also, in the garden? That's just weird." Olivia says, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You guys think someone drugged her?" Harper shrugged and pursed her lips, inconclusive.

"Either way. It happened when she was alone. What was she even doing in the garden late at night? No one knows. But everyone will point their finger right back at her and say it's her own fault." You understood what they meant. This place isn't as picture perfect as it seemed, just like any other place, it has its holes and flaws.

"Okay, the next time I'm going anywhere other than my classes, I'll let one of you know." Harper and Olivia smiled and looked relieved. You could tell they were satisfied by your answer. "And if we're going anywhere, we'll tell you."

"Okay." You assured them.

You've never really known what it was like to have people worry over you this way. Most of the time, people were grateful when you minded your own business and hid away. And sure there is a little bit of annoyance that comes with being scolded like a child, but it also felt good to have someone care for you this way.

You folded your knees onto your chest, repositioning yourself on her bed. It is only after you move closer to her that you notice your sketchbook on her side table.

"Where'd you find that?" You jolted up, eyes widening..

"Oh, this is another thing we wanted to ask you about." Harper exclaimed, stretching her arm towards the book and passing it over to you. "Clarisse came over here like 15 minutes ago, said you dropped this."

"Who's Clarisse?" You frowned.

"Oh that's funny, you don't know who Clarisse is, and yet she's talking about you like you've been friends for ages." Harper says it like a mother hen catching her daughter red handed, but you're only further confused.

"No, seriously. Who's Clarisse?"

Olivia sighed from her bed and waved her hand exaggeratedly. "Curly hair, dark skin, looks like she can dropkick you in 6 different ways." Instantly, something in your brain clicked.

"Oh, her." Their expression changed into curiosity as they await for you to add more.

"I...met her in the bathroom. She was making a kid do pushups. But we barely talked, I just left."

"Yeah well, she asked where you were when she came by, and we told her we didn't know. And then she gave me this." You opened the book and found that the page with her face on has been ripped away.

Something eats away at your heart when you saw the torn pages, but you said nothing and instead just tossed the book onto your own bed. "What's her deal anyways." You huffed.

"Legacy students, they're all a little entitled like that, her more than others." Olivia answered.

"Oh, she's entitled alright." You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes.

"I think I'm just gonna go catch up on homework now, unless there's anything else you two want to nag me on." Harper snorted and shoved you playfully but still smiled.

"No, no more nagging." Olivia concluded.

[herlondonboy]

trust, clarisse la rue

summary: how can she trust you again after you let everyone think she was the lightning thief?

warnings: break up, it’s rushed, child of hades!reader

wc: 1.0k

being the cousin of percy jackson would have it’s perks, if it weren’t for being his paternal cousin. sure, the gods have no dna, meaning you’re not technically related, but that didn’t matter to either of you

his father is poseidon, and yours, hades. you were cousins, if not by blood, by love for each other.

you’d only known percy for two weeks, but being on a quest with him taught you a lot. there was nothing he wouldn’t do for those he loved. grover, annabeth, his mother, he’s fight the gods for them. you admired that about him. he was twelve, but ready to humble the gods, days after finding out that he was a half-blood.

he was doing what you wanted to do your whole life. you wanted to scream and curse your father for being absent for so long, and he was doing it for you.

now that you have a family, consisting of a cousin and two little siblings (annabeth and grover, though annabeth hadn’t accepted it quite yet), all you wanted to do was go home into the arms of your girlfriend. you missed falling asleep in her arms, waking up to her scent, and just overall annoying her.

you wondered if she was mad at you, for taking longer that you said. she didn’t know you had been stuck in the lotus hotel for a few days and missed the solstice. all she knew what that percy failed the quest.

the underworld was your least favourite part of the quest. seeing your father, face to face. you scolded him as he tried to offer your friends pomegranate juice and he backed down, shrugging. then you left.

percy and grover followed you shortly, and you were once again face to face with ares.

gods, how you wanted to rip that smug smirk off of his face. he didn’t deserve it after what he said about his children, after what he said about clarisse. nobody forced him to reproduce, but he did, and now he blames them for being born.

despite being a god, and the one of war at that, ares lost to percy. you felt proud, like a parent watching their child succeed. ares was gone in a flash, and it was replaced by your fathers helm.

the children looked at you, so you stepped forward to pick it up. it was heavier than you had expected.

“percy, i-“ you turned around to see him walking into the small bungalow not far behind. sharing looks with the other two twelve year olds, you decided to follow him.

there, you met alectro. she took your father’s helm and percy made her tell him that you wanted your mothers back. hades wasn’t going to let your mother go, though. he needed you, and he’d lose you if you got her. sally jackson, however, was a different story. you prayed that he’d give her back to percy. he was just a kid, he needed his mom.

“no,” you heard, making you turn to see annabeth looking at percy.

“you’re not going to stop him,” you murmured, making them turn to you. “he going to olympus, whether you like it or not.”

percy nodded at that. “you three need to go back to camp. i have to talk to zeus. i have to.”

it took a little convincing, but eventually annabeth and grover agreed to go back. then all eyes were back on you.

“i’m going to olympus, too,” you told them. “my quest was protecting percy. if that’s where he’s going, that’s where i’m going.”

there was silence for a few more seconds before they accepted that.

-

you were finally back at camp. with percy walking next to you, you felt relieved. you’d met your uncles as poseidon defended his son against his brother’s wrath. now that you were back, you could hug and kiss clarisse all you wanted.

walking into camp, most demigods clapped for percy as you slowed down to let him relish in his glory. you were looking out for the one person that wouldn’t be clapping, and when you found her, her arms were crossed as she glared at you. you wondered if it was because you walked in with percy.

excusing yourself, you diverted from the path and towards your girlfriend with a smile. she scoffed and rolled her eyes at that and stormed off.

you followed her until you were far enough into the woods that no one would hear your conversation.

“hey, you,” you said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she spun around.

clarisse's eyes blaze with betrayal as she confronted you about the rumors circulating, questioning, "how am i supposed to trust you if you let everyone believe i was the lightning thief?" you're rendered speechless, struggling to find the right words.

in an attempt to defend yourself, you stammer, "i didn’t." but clarisse remains unyielding, her anger palpable.

“then why did you let luke believe it?” you stayed silent and she realised. the tension thickens between you, and the air becomes charged with unspoken emotions. she snaps, "oh, you think that because i crave my dad’s validation so much that i’d start a world war?" your heart sinks as she delivers the words with a bitter edge.

"i thought you, of all people, would understand," clarisse adds, her voice filled with disappointment.

desperation sets in, and you try to explain, "clarisse, it wasn't my intention. i would never intentionally hurt you. you know that.”

“do i?” she asked.

“i love you,” you tried.

but your words fall on deaf ears. she scoffs, shaking her head. "i can't trust you anymore," clarisse declares, breaking up with you. without looking back, she leaves you behind. tears well up in your eyes, emotions overwhelming you. the breakup is abrupt, and the pain lingers as clarisse walks away, leaving you alone with shattered emotions.

[bagerfluff]

Nico Di Angelo x Will Solace x Son of Chaos reader?

AN: Thank you for requesting and I hope you like this. I also took the liberty of picking my own prompt since you didn't give me one so I hope you are okay with that. It is perfectly okay to not give a request without a prompt but that just means I pick one myself.

Chaos Follows You, But We Don't Care

Nico di Angelo x Will Solace x Son of Chaos Reader

Prompt - Angry Confessions

You didn't know what you were doing.

You were currently sitting on a high branch in a tree. You had ran here after the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you. You've been here for a couple hours and you were still scared and embarrassed.

You want to know what happened?

You might have confessed to your two closest best friends. Nico and Will. They were your friends since you first came to camp. You've been friends with them for years. And you've had a crush on the both of them for as long.

You always knew you liked guys and that you were Polyamorous, but why did you have to fall in love with both of them. It was even worse when they told you that they were dating. It made you feel like a third wheel.

It hurt.

But you couldn't tell them; they didn't love you like you loved them. So you kept it hidden. No matter how much it hurt. Watching them act all lovey dovey. It made you a little sick. The pain in your heart when you watched them.

You couldn't even describe it.

So one day when you were hanging out with them at the beach, the sun beating down on your skin. The sounds of the crashing waves. The whispers of Nico and Will. It was pretty shitty. You were sitting a few feet to their left.

They weren't even talking to you. They were your friends, but they were too distracted with each other. You started to get angry and you yelled. You stood up and yelled at the two boys about how you loved them. But how it hurt that they didn't love you back and how they ignored you.

After you were done yelling you realized what you had said you had ran. You took one look and Nico's shocked face and Will's sad one and ran. You ran, even when you heard Will calling for you, you ran till you found this tree and climbed up it.

You've been here ever since.

You didn't want to go back. You didn't want to face Nico and Will. You didn't want them to have to tell you that they didn't love you like that. You didn't want them to tell you that you couldn't be their friends any more. So you stayed here.

Even when you heard the dinner bell you didn't move. You were fine. Though you were hungry you didn't move. You felt like crying. You blew it. You were going to lose your only friends. You made chaos. You did what every one you would do.

You were a son of Chaos. Her name said what she did just fine. That's why people were never your friends. Even before you knew you were a demigod, you made chaos. Everywhere you went chaos followed like a lost puppy.

You always made a mess of things and added stress to everyone's day. You never meant to, you were a kid. But people didn't know that. They thought you did it on purpose. Even when you found out you were a demigod.

People were still wary of you.

Nobody talked to you, nobody went near you. You tried to stop the chaos you made. You tried to stop your powers. You had the powers to cause chaos from nothing. But that never worked. Chaos was all that you knew and you were fine with it.

That was until you met Nico and Will.

Since there was no cabin for you they just placed you in Hermes. But since the Hermes kids didn't like that a claimed kid was with them, plus you made lots of chaos that they didn't like. Chiron had placed you in Hades cabin. Nico was rarely there and it was away from everyone.

So you met Nico first. He knew what it was like to be an outcast. He talked to you and he didn't mind when you made chaos. He even helped you control it. Nico was kind and understanding. He was a nice person to talk to when you needed someone to listen for a bit.

Nico was fun to hang out with. You both were outcasts so you two got along well. You both scared the shit out of campers. Especially new campers that saw the two of you leaning or sitting by a tree in the shadows.

Then you met Will. Some people decided that it would be fun to hurt you. They would try a little harder to knock you down during sword practice. People would miss fire really close to you during target practice. So every once and a while you would show up at the infirmary with a new bruise or cut.

Will would be the one who would patch you up most of the time. He said that he heard about you from Nico because they were friends. That might have made you blush. So you and Will got to talking since Nico was friends with you both.

Will was really nice and he really cared about his friends. Will was like a ray of sunshine. He brightened up your day whenever you see him. Especially when you walk into of the infirmary. Since you were all friends you started to hang out with the both of them.

It was hard since Nico was rarely at Camp Half-Blood and Will always worked but you guys managed it. Some of your best memories were with the both of them. They were your best and only friends. You loved them more then anything.

Now you were going to lose them.

Tears started to fall out of your eyes and onto your lap. You tried to stop them but they were coming whether you liked it or not. You started to quietly sob and you brought your knees to your chest. You wrapped your arms around your legs and placed your head on top of them.

You cried onto your knees but you stopped when you heard a twig snap. You glanced down to see Nico and Will looking around. Why were they here? Were they looking for you? You stayed quiet. You didn't want them to find you. You weren't ready for them to break the news to you.

You weren't ready to lose the ones you loved.

Unfortunately that didn't last long because Nico looked up and saw you in the tree. You and Nico held eye contact until Nico grabbed Will's hand and pointed up at you. Will looked at Nico for a second before following Nico's finger up to you.

Nico and Will looked at you while you looked at them. The boys on the ground looked at each other. "Hey Y/n? Do you want to come down?" Will asked. Will was always better at calming your nerves. He knew what to say to calm you down. Nico tried but it never really worked.

But it was the thought that counted.

"N-no", you said with a wavering voice. You didn't want to talk but you knew you had too. "Okay. we'll wait", Will yelled up and you watched as Nico and Will walked over to the base of the tree and sat down. You could tell that they were talking to each other but you couldn't hear them.

You needed to talk to them. You needed to bite the bullet and get this over with. Though the thought of that made more tears slip out of your eyes. You wiped them away and started to make your way down the tree. It took a bit but before you knew it you were standing in front of Nico and Will.

Nico looked a little scared while Will still looked sad. You sat down criss cross in front of them and stared at them. None of you spoke. You were scared and something told you that they were too. "Do you know why we're here Y/n", Will asked.

You knew but you didn't want to say it so you nodded. "We're not mad Y/n", Nico said. It was the first time he had spoke and you could tell from his voice that Nico was scared. "In fact we wanted to tell you something", Will said.

This was it.

You were about to lose your friends. You got ready to run away after they said it. You placed your hands on the ground and closed your eyes. You couldn't look at them while they did this. You heard more whispering and heard moving. Then you felt something touch both of your cheeks.

It felt like a kiss.

You vaguely remember your father placing a kiss on your cheek before he left for work. You opened your eyes and looked at Nico and Will with a shocked expression. They were now sitting a foot in front of you. They both had a smile on their face. Will's was bigger Nico's was bigger but they both looked really happy.

"Wha-", you tried to ask what happened but Will and Nico both spoke, cutting you off. "We like you too". You were so happy and shocked, and still a little sad. This was so much that you started to cry again. You didn't know why but you did.

Nico and Wil got a little scared but you were quick to ease their worries. "No I'm fine I'm just", you didn't even know what to say. Will smiled again and pulled you and Nico into a hug. You and Nico were shocked but you both hugged back.

They liked you back. You were so happy. Will pulled away and looked at you, "we're sorry for making you feel like that". Will was referring to when you were scared and how you felt when you left them. "It's fine, as long as I get a kiss as an apology", you smiled at the both of them.

Will let out a little laugh but kissed you any way. You smiled, it was quick because you heard Nico's grumble. You pulled away and kissed Nico too. "Does this mean were dating?" You asked and Nico rolled his eyes. "yes Y/n, we are all boyfriends", you smiled again.

Nico and Will loved you, chaos and all.

[webshooterrr9]

Take Care

Act Two Astarion x gn!reader

just fluff and angst if you squint, no smut

Sigh. "You don't have to do this, darling. I'm not some sort of child in need of coddling."

Despite his standoffish tone, Astarion makes no attempt to move away as you tend to the cuts on his arm. It had been a long day of adventuring, and your party most unfortunately ran into a horde of goblins on your way back to camp for the knight. Being stronger after a recent feed, Astarion fought most of them - giving him the most injuries.

You're being far too gentle. He watches closely in the dim lantern light as you wet the rag for cleaning. A part of him wishes you'd just hurt him instead. He knows how to deal with pain. He doesn't know how to deal with this.

Whatever this is, his mind tells him it needs to stop. Stop before he starts to care. He doesn't want to care about you. If he does, you'll be another thing for Cazador to use against him when the time comes.

He can't have that.

"Oh, shut up." you wave a dismissive hand before resuming your cleaning, gently wiping away the dirt and grime from his wounds. You sat comfortably in his lap as you worked. Another form of intimacy he was unsure about.

"I've received worse and lived, love. I'll be alright without your babying."

He would never admit it, but Astarion almost... enjoyed the way you so carefully tended to him. But it felt wrong. Why would you do this? It wasn't like his life was on the line, the goblins only inflicted minor injuries.

"I know you have, I've seen the poem that... he carved into your back. You showed me, remember?"

Astarion winces at the memory, and you feel sort of bad for bringing it up. But he just rolls his eyes, covering up the discomfort with a scoff.

That wretched devil. That evil, evil man.

"We're still travel companions, so I want to help you. Regardless of how minor it is." you continue, speaking slowly as you bandage up the cuts.

"Because I'm incapable?" there's a bite to his voice, one that he didn't mean to be there. But he couldn't help it. This was so... odd. "I managed to take care of myself just fine before you came along."

You look up at him, almost with a glare at his accusation. "I never said you were incapable, 'Starion. But you have to let others help you once in a while."

Gods, he hated it. He hated how caring you were, how sweetly you spoke to him, even when he was rude. How fondly you pictured him in your mind, even when he had done nothing but manipulate you so far.

How could you he so naive? He was obviously using you. And yet, you seemed to care about him, which pissed him off more.

He doesn't deserve someone as tender as you. As kind and caring.

Astarions grits his teeth as he speaks. "I don't have to let you do anything. I don't deserve that."

Why did he say that? How stupid of him so seem so vulnerable around you. And why does he want to curl up against you and let it all out? Why does he want you to wrap him up in your arms and whisper into his hair and tell him everything is going to be okay?

What is wrong with him?

You wrap up his cut tightly, giving him a glare. "You're wrong." you replied, short and direct. Your stare made it clear that this wasn't up for debate.

"You deserve just as much as everyone else. If not more, given what you've been through."

Astarion glares right back. If there was one thing he could do, it was argue. "You know nothing about me. I barely even told you half of it."

You don't know why he has to be so stubborn about this. Maybe it's his nature. Or maybe he's just too much of a coward to admit that he's actually starting to develop feelings for you. Astarion doesn't know which.

"I'm objectively the worst person on this team. You should be helping the others. Lae'zel got all scratched up too, you know."

"They've got each other." you argue back, just as stubborn as the elf. "But you, you've closed yourself off from everyone. Shut them out."

"If I don't take care of you, no one will. The Hells know that you wouldn't take care of yourself, either. You're too self-loathing for that."

When the hell did you become so perceptive? How in the world did you come to that conclusion? He wasn't self hating, he was just telling the truth. He was awful, evil. He knew it to be true.

...

Shit. Maybe you were right.

"Fine. Maybe your words have some truth in them." he sighs, not daring to look you in the eyes as he admits it. "You're right. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Damn it. Now he wants to hug you. The feeling he's been trying to avoid the entire time is bubbling up, threatening to engulf him.

Does it make him weak to want to be coddled and comforted by you? Would it make him just as pathetic as he was under Cazador's thumb? Would allowing himself this pampering, this affection, be nothing more than something to regret?

"I'm always right." you scoff. "You'd have picked up on that by now if you weren't so aloof."

You slide off of his lap once you're done bandaging, giving him some space. But you don't leave his tent.

You stay there, sitting in front of him, as a silent show of solidarity. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter how much you try to push me away."

The urge to pull you close and never let you go is overwhelming him. Astarion's not sure if he can trust himself to resist it.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly, lowering his head a bit shamefully. "Why are you so insistent on helping me? I'm not worth it."

"Because you are worth it. And I won't stop until you believe it."

"I will not allow you to fall into tragedy when you can be so much more than that. I've seen your potential - on the battlefield and in camp. I refuse to let you waste your life in solitude."

Astarion wants to believe you. Desperately.

The evidence is staring him right in the face: the way that you care for him, how he feels secure in your presence.

But if he believes you, he can't hide any longer. He can't seek shelter behind the walls he's carefully erected within himself. And he can't shield himself from the vulnerability of admitting that he needs you. So instead he just says:

"Shut up."

You sigh. No matter how much you try to break him down, he stays persistent. "Fine."

"I'll stop talking, but you'd be a fool if you think I'm leaving."

He scoffs. "So what, you're just going to sit there and watch me all night?"

"If that's all you'll allow me, yes."

Allow. Such a sacred, unheard word to him.

Astarion didn't even have a response to that. In the end, he didn't have enough energy to make a snarky counter. And before he can form a coherent sentence and protest, his body makes a decision for him.

The elf slumps forward and places his head in your lap, curling up in a way that resembles a kitten. A stray seeking shelter.

Despite his efforts of stubborness, he closes his eyes and lets his body go slack.

He wants this.

You're relieved. For a moment, you sit still, not wanting to scare him away with any sudden movements. He needed this peace, and you wouldn't dare take it from him.

Slowly, you start to rake your fingers through his curls. Slowly, gently. Like a mother comforting her child.

He needs it. More than ever.

When you begin to run your fingers through his hair, it's like all his defenses dissolve away. Astarion lets out a quiet hum of contentment and presses his head further into your warmth, making himself as comfortable as possible in this precious moment.

Time seems to slow down as you sit there. There's no need for words. After so long of being taken and abused by his master, Astarion finds himself oddly calm. Safe.

It's strange to feel this comfortable. Even now he should have to urge to try and escape your touch, but he's not feeling those impulses.

He takes a deep breath and relaxes into your touch. The tension and discomfort that seemed to define his existence is melting away. For the first time in centuries, he feels he's where he belongs.

As you continue to pet his hair, you hear a quiet whisper come from your companion.

"Thank you."

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.7

Warnings: Mention of Injury, Some Smut, 18+

Ch.6 Here | Ch.8 Here

***

You were not happy about being dragged to the Illyrian war-camp with everyone else. Azriel had demanded it, refusing to go anywhere without you since that night after the Hewn City. He acted as if he let you out of his sight you would disappear from him forever. Nothing more had happened since then, besides his need to be more protective than normal. Even at night you would feel the cool brush of his shadows running over your arms, checking in to make sure all was well.

You didn’t mind any of that, but bringing you out here when you had no reason to come? You were annoyed with him and he could certainly tell. You hadn’t said a single word to him since he had dropped you in this cabin. Not that you particularly wanted to stay at the House of Wind when all the Illyrians were gone, but that was beside the point. You didn’t appreciate him making you come, especially when it meant more time around Rhysand.

Luckily for you, he and Feyre had been gone for a few days. You sat on the plush chair with your feet tucked up under you, a book in your hands as usual. You were pointedly ignoring the shadows twirling through your fingers as you read, even more so ignoring their master in the corner of the room. You could tell he was growing agitated with you, not quite understanding why you were so upset.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” He asked, voice low. You didn’t look up from your book or respond to his question. “I know you’re mad I brought you here, but I don’t like the idea of you being alone up there. What if you needed one of us?”

You turned the page in your book.

A shadow swirled up your neck and hooked around your chin, forcing your gaze up to the Shadowsinger. He had stalked closer to you, standing in front of you now. “I don’t like being ignored,” he murmured, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. You shoved down the heat that was creeping up through you, reminding yourself that you’re supposed to be angry.

“I don’t enjoy being forced to come wherever you go like i’m your little toy,” you shot back. He leaned down closer, hands coming to rest on the arms of the chair below you. His shadow remained on your chin while the others ran over your arms and legs.

“You’d rather I left you unprotected, stuck miles up in the sky?” His eyes were hard, his breath fanning over your cheeks. You glared right back at him.

“It would have been preferable to being stuck here.” Your disdain for the violent Illyrian camps was not something you hid. You remembered the stories Rhysand had told you of their youth, and how hard he had worked to try to change things. How slow that change was coming.

Azriel leaned down even more, lips close enough to brush yours as he spoke. “Mmm, but then you wouldn’t have me around.” His voice was teasing, a light in his eye. You hated how easily he could bring your brain to mush, turn a bad mood into a good one.

You were seconds away from closing the minuscule gap between the two of you and press your lips to his. A loud bang outside accompanied by yelling tore you from the moment, Azriel running to the door as you stood behind him.

You heard the faint voices of Mor and Feyre, and then Cassian was dragging in a near-dead Rhysand. You despised the way your heart stopped at how he looked, the decades of your love for him making his pain your pain. Azriel helped Cassian pull him onto the couch as you hurried to the kitchen, grabbing any healing supplies you could find.

You ran back to the injured male on the couch, kneeling down next to him as you assessed what had happened. Azriel and Cassian shifted behind you, upset at the state of their brother and unsure what to do. “Go,” you told them, “stand outside. Watch for anyone coming. I can handle him.” The pair nodded at your command, following each other out the door. You knew their anxieties would only make this harder, and sending them outside to pretend to do a task would make everyone’s lives easier.

You undid Rhysands shirt, pulling the blood-soaked fabric off of him. He groaned at your touch, eyes rolling back into his head. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, focusing on the injuries in front of you. You took out a warm washcloth and began dabbing the blood away, trying to find where each wound began and end. You had trained in some healing techniques long ago, a useful tool when you married an Illyrian.

You had been in similar situations, cleaning blood and stitching up your husbands wounds. This time was drastically different, and not just due to the fact you weren’t really together anymore. He was quiet. In the past even his worst injuries he had joked through, lightening the mood as you worked on him. Now, he had nothing to say. He wouldn’t even open his eyes or acknowledge what you were doing. It was like something had been sucked out of him, something had destroyed him.

You finished stitching what you could before moving to his wings. “Rhys,” you said, “I am going to have to touch your wings to help you. Is that okay?” You knew he didn’t deserve this kind of respect from you, not after what he had done. You didn’t need to ask his permission to touch the soft leather you knew all too well. Yet something told you that this moment was not the one to start acting on your hurt and anger.

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse, hollow. His eyes stayed closed as you washed his wings with the rag, tears pricking your eyes at the deep slashes through them. You knew how much an Illyrians wings meant to them, how devastating it would be for them to be taken away. You were gentle with them, heart heavy as moans of pain came from Rhysand. You took your time making the stitches as even as possible, spreading a healing balm over them when you were finished. The last thing you did was pull out a roll of bandages, going back over all the wounds you had stitched up. With his fae healing he should be fine in a matter of days, but until then he would be forced to rest.

You had just finished placing the last bandage when his hand shot out for your arm. You startled at his touch, looking up into his now-open eyes. He was staring down at where his hand rested on your elbow, pressing your forearms together. You looked down as well, taking in the sight of your matching marital tattoos. “What I have done is unforgivable,” he murmured, hand tightening on your arm. You were inclined to agree, and you probably would have torn your arm out of his grasp and left in any other situation. The male in front of you now bore no resemblance to the cruel Rhysand of the past few months.

“Perhaps not unforgivable,” you gave, trying to ease his pain in any way. Your gaze caught his, taken aback by the tears lingering in his eyes.

“Do not lie to me to try to preserve my feelings.” His voice was thick, on the verge of tears. “I have treated you in terrible ways. I have said and done truly awful things to you.” He looked down at his chest, at the bandages cleanly placed there. “And yet here you are, tending to me as wonderfully as ever. I never deserved you.”

You sighed. “No, you didn’t.” His head shot back up to you as you pulled your arm from him, cleaning the healing supplies up. “However, that does not change what was done. What we had, once upon a time. Can you truly tell me it was all a lie?” There it was. The question that had been haunting you for months.

He took his time to respond, the silence taking over the room. You carried the remaining bandages and healing balm into the kitchen, putting them away while your question hung heavy in the air. Minutes passed while you cleaned, broken only by the sound of Rhysand’s struggling breaths.

“She’s going to reject the bond,” he finally said, avoiding the question. Your movements stilled, not quite expecting that. “She did enough to keep me alive before dropping me here and disappearing.” Truth be told, you couldn’t blame her. You washed your hands, drying them slowly on a towel.

“So she knows?” You asked, understanding that he must have told her. You walked back to the couch, looking down at him. He nodded, avoiding your gaze.

“She trapped a Suriel, to try to find a way to heal me. It told her. She’s angry that I would hide it.” You gave a humorless laugh, kneeling back down next to him.

“For the most powerful High Lord of all time, you certainly are also the dumbest.” Your blunt words shocked him, making him look back at you.

“W-what?” He sputtered out, not used to you talking to him like that.

“Rhys, please. She is your mate, is she not? You have already devoted yourself completely to her, something she had to have noticed months ago.” You sighed, pulling his hand into yours. “She will come around. Give her time.”

He held on tight to you, the ends of your tattoo lining up perfectly when your hands were connected. That was how it was made to me, to show the unbroken love between the two of you. The love that was now shattered into a million minuscule pieces.

“Remove this bond, Rhysand. It does you no good being tied to me like this.” You knew he still may not agree, that you didn’t not know his true motives behind keeping you around. However, you weren’t sure if there would ever be another chance to ask. When he was vulnerable enough to be kind.

You were pleasantly surprised when he nodded, thumb stroking over your hand one last time before he let go. “Okay,” he agreed, voice weak. “I’ll summon a priestess.” You nodded, standing from your spot next to him.

“Rest now, Rhys.”

***

You found Azriel and Cassian outside, sparring to relieve the tension. They stopped when they saw you, rushing over to ask how Rhysand was. You raised your hands, silencing them before they could even speak. “He will be fine,” you assured. “Feyre found out about the mating bond.”

“Feyre did that?!” Cassian asked in disbelief, eyes wide. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped at his shock, shaking your head.

“No, no, she found out while trying to heal him. Where is she?” You looked around the two males in front of you, catching no sight of her.

“She asked Mor to take her somewhere far away. Where Rhys wouldn’t bother her,” Azriel explained. You can’t help but wish you had thought of doing that.

“I see. He is resting now, but you may come back in.” You opened the door for the two, Mor winnowing back at the same moment. She pushed past you to get to Rhysand, demanding to know what happened. You don’t try to stop her. While you could feel bad for his current state, you couldn’t deny you enjoyed seeing him get a little taste of his own medicine.

You grabbed the book you had discarded and headed upstairs, mind heavy with the thoughts of your conversation with Rhysand. You were concerned he was only being nice due to the possibility of Feyre rejecting the bond, and where that would leave him. A beat of fear ran through you at the thought of Feyre rejecting him, and he decided to turn back to you. You shook your head as you pushed open the door to the room you were staying in, banishing that idea from your mind. You would never let that happen.

***

You had fallen asleep while reading, waking up with a sore neck and a rumbling stomach. You slept right through dinner, if it was even had. You stood from the bed, walking slowly to the door. You cracked it open and listen for any sounds of life before deciding to sneak downstairs to grab something to eat. You rubbed your neck as you made your way down, regretting falling asleep at such an awkward angle.

You enter the dimly lit kitchen, catching sight of Rhysand asleep on the couch in the living room. You say a silent prayer to the Mother that he stays that way. One interaction with him is enough for the day. You turn your back on the sleeping male and browse the cabinets for an easy meal. You begin to reach up for a pack of crackers when a cool shadow brushes against your waist. You smile down at the thing, wondering if Azriel knows one is out.

Your question is quickly answered when a hard body presses against your back, an arm reaching over your head to pull the crackers down for you. You turn your head to smile at your friend, a little surprised to find his face so close to yours. One of his hands comes to rest on your waist, the other landing on the countertop in front of you. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, voice low as to not disturb the High Lord only feet away.

You shake your head, a bit lost in his eyes and his proximity. You turn so you are facing him, hands coming up to rest comfortably on his chest. “Midnight snack?” You tease, gesturing to the crackers he had grabbed for you. His eyes darken and shadows swirl around you.

“Something like that,” he murmurs, leaning closer to you. Your heart is ready to rocket out of your chest, knowing Rhysand could wake up any second and catch you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, glancing at his lips. You should stop this, push him off and run back to your room. You shouldn’t allow his hand to move up to your neck, a long finger angling your head up to him while his thumb rests on your throat. You shouldn’t allow your arms to wrap around his neck, hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You definitely shouldn’t lean up and kiss him.

You no longer cared as Azriel’s lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, hesitant. You could feel in the unnatural stiffness of his body that he was holding back, allowing you to decide what happens. You pull him even closer to you, increasing the speed and passion of the kiss. Your body melts into his, the hand on your waist wrapping around and splaying across your lower back. Your hand slid up his head, tangling itself into his soft hair. You opened your mouth for him, needing him in every way. You gasped as he lifted you up onto the counter, pushing your nightgown up to step between your legs. You wrapped your legs around his hips, tugging him closer, closer, closer.

He groaned into your mouth, nipping your bottom lip. The hand on your back dropped to your thigh, running up and down the exposed skin. His shadows were twirling around your ankles, your arms, your hair. Everything about him was intoxicating. He pulled away from your lips, traveling down to kiss and suck on your neck. You moaned lightly as the hand on your neck dropped, fingers sliding ever so slightly under the top of your gown. “Azriel,” you breathed, arching into his touch. He growled against your skin, placing a harsh bite in a spot anyone could see.

Not that you particularly cared.

Your hips pushed against his, desperate for him. Your mind was a blaze of lust, of need, and it could only be sated by him. His fingers dug into the top of your thigh at your movement, a warning to think before you did that again. His lips came back up to yours, kissing you so hard you were sure you would bruise. You felt something cold brush against your heat, an almost embarrassing whimper coming from you. “They want to touch,” Azriel said, his voice deep. You moaned when the shadow ran against you again, teasing the edge of your underwear. “Would you like them to touch, my love?”

He was going to be your undoing.

“Yes,” you gasped out, the shadow delving to where you needed it most. You bit hard onto Azriel’s shoulder to muffle your moan, pleasure radiating through your body. He resumed the kissing and sucking on your neck, hand fully sliding down under your top to cup one of your breasts. You dug your nails into his back, the sensations overwhelming. His thumb ran over your nipple as his shadow gave a delicious twist against you, cries falling from your lips. He pulled his hand out of your nightgown to bring your head to his again, lips silencing the noises coming from you.

The shadow began vibrating against you, your legs falling open to allow it more access. You felt the cool breeze of another one dip inside you, Azriel’s hand on your thigh keeping you available to them. You shook against him, moaning his name into his mouth as he kissed you. You felt the shadow push in farther, the sensation unlike any you had experienced. It stretched you open delightfully, it’s twin increasing the speed against you. You bit down on Azriel’s lip, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth. His nails raked down your thigh at the pain and pleasure as you licked over the wound you had made.

You were close, too close. You didn’t want this moment to end, but the shadows seemed to sense the tightening in your body. They held their current speed and movements, bringing you to the edge. You arched against Azriel, head falling back against the cabinets as stars exploded behind your eyes. You shook against him, his shadows working you through the last bit of your release. He hummed in satisfaction as he watched your mouth drop in a silent scream, the sight one he had dreamed about for far too long.

He called the shadows back when he could tell your mind was blank with overstimulation, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. You brought your head back down, glassy eyes looking up at the Shadowsinger. Rhysand had never made you feel that good, and Azriel hadn’t even touched you yet. He smiled at you, brushing your tangled hair back. He took in your swollen lips, spit and a hint of blood glistening on them. You were the most magnificent thing he had ever seen in that moment.

“What are you doing with my wife, Brother?”

***

This is my favorite chapter so far 🫣 Please let me know what you guys think !!!!! I LOVE hearing your thoughts on this story <3

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[viperixsworld]

GUTS, luke castellan x oc(prologue)

summary: where an aphordite daugther falls for this lying hermes boy.

disclaimer: english is not my firt language.

We don't get to choose who we fall in love with.

Arianne knew that. She believed it to her core. Love was something magical and illogical. Her own father, said it when he told her about her mom. Apparently, she was a beautiful young woman that crossed paths with Nicholas Deveraux (her father) during his travels in Europe before officially settle down in the family business in Chicago.

Everyone expected that Nicholas would come back from Europe with a bad tan and a few souvenirs, not a freaking newborn baby daugther.

Nicholas was a loving father, but not a really smart man. That is It's one of the reasons she didn't question when a man showed up at her Chicago home, offering her only daughter a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school.

Arianne came to camp half-blood when she was thirteen years old. After some encounters with several monsters, Chiron himself went to her doorstep in Chicago to get her to camp.

Nevertheless, during her arrival there was an incident. An incident involving three more demigod, a satire and a cyclops.

Arianne was claimed a few weeks after the attack, same as the two demigos that survived. Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, and Annabeth Chase, daugther of Atenea.

And let me tell you, Arianne Deveraux didn't choose to fall for the son of the Traveler. It was fate, or maybe was her mother ? She wasn't really sure. They started off as friends, adapting to camp at same time, being the same age, having the same friends.

Arianne was a nice, generous and beautiful girl, she was the perfect definition of an Aphordite daugther. Everyone that knew her personally (and even those who didn't) held her close to their hearts. Knowing that if you had to trust someone, you could trust Arianne Deveraux.

It was also a flaw, being the goodie older sister of Camp Half-blood.

At sixteen, she was named captain of Aphordite cabin. At the same time, Luke Castellan was named captain of Hermes cabin. They started to spend more time together, attending bonefire together, sparring together... Then the gifts started, Luke liked how her eyes would shine everytime she opened a present, no matter how stupid or simple. He would get her little details, It was his way of showing love, his love language, and her siblings would beg her to ask Luke to please, please, get them things for the cabin.

On the othet hand, Arianne would be (even without her knowing) the best of the presents for Luke. She was kind and beautiful, and gave him all the attetion he craved. And even Annabeth liked her, and would let her do her hair when she was tired. She was a part of their little, broken family.

Sometimes, Ari would cover up for Luke, when he sneak out to get things for other half-bloods and for himself. Like a PlayStation or some chess board for Annabeth, or his little presents for Ari.

Sometimes, Luke would sneak her in the Big House, to use the phone to talk to her father.

Every friday night, the would sit in the shore of the lake, to talk about everything or to be completly silent. Every time the scar on Luke's face hurt, Ari would stay by his side and try to ease the pain. Every time Ari felt like the stress of carring everyones problems and her owns, Luke was there to relieve her.

They were partners in crime, always there for each other.

That, until an enemy emerges from the shadows and resentment.

That, until one betrays the other.

Until Arianne Deveraux feels love and hate in her guts.

[toxicanonymity]

fires (prologue)

1650, Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: optionally before: Aches, Thoughts, and ✨Needs. started as lore, thanks for asking @thesummerpetrichor 🖤 POV changes. SUMMARY: You meet Joel, start traveling with him, and sexual tension ebbs and flows before you lose your sleeping bag. WARNINGS: I8+, fluff, sexual tension, arousal, brief jacking off.

You were the last of your group, trying to make your way to Jackson to find a family member. When Joel first found you trying to read a map, you were skittish and didn't want to tell him where you were trying to go. He asked if you needed anything and you said no, even though you couldn't sleep at night because you were so scared, and you were starving. You declined his help and quickly went on your way. You ran into him a couple more times after that, and he was polite but kept a respectful distance.

One night when you were trying and failing to make a fire, he came up and offered his help. You initially told him it was fine, no thank you. Then he spared your pride by saying, "No sense in both of us makin' a fire if we can share one." He felt bad for you. You didn't tell him much about yourself, but when he told you even the dryest, shortest version of his story--lost a daughter, nothing left here, headed west--your walls came down. You camped together that night, kind of, like 20 ft apart. You felt a strange mix of comfort and nervousness having him close by. You left early in the morning so you wouldn't have to talk to him. You were feeling shy.

The next day, you stumbled on infected. Joel showed up out of nowhere and barked orders at you, telling you to "get down!" then "behind me, now!" He sniped them off like it was nothing before they got close enough to touch you. You were shaken of course.  He got you somewhere safe, then said it'd be safer if the two of you traveled together. He was disturbed that you didn’t even have any weapons left. That night, you didn't know if it was just the effect of everything that happened (his yelling echoed in your head), but you had a feeling in your tummy whenever he spoke, whenever the fire would catch the silver of his beard. You couldn’t take your eyes off his biceps, either. You didn’t register it as attraction right away. It never occurred to you that you could be attracted to someone that old. 

The daily dynamic was outwardly platonic but that effect of his voice, his face, his muscles, that never went away. It only got stronger. He was strong, and handsome, he looked out for you. You didn’t talk much, but you got to know a little more about each other like your shared destination and the relatives you were hoping to find. 

–

The turning point was when you encountered infected together one evening around dusk, and it was a much closer call than the first incident.  After sniping them off, Joel hugged you and quickly got you to safety, reassuring you, “you’re okay, sweetie, i got you.”  He made a fire as soon as you found a good place. He felt guilty that he hadn't already set up camp for the night before this happened. It was too dark to still be walking.

By the fire light, he examined you for bites, and continued to reassure you. “Shhhh, it’s okay, you’re safe.”  He seemed to be reassuring himself, too. He looked at your arms and the back of your neck. Then he glanced at your torso and got awkward.

“ I don’t–i don't gotta look, but if ya want– if ya wanna look at yourself," he gestured toward his own torso, "uh, it might be a good idea.” 

“Do you mind doing it?” You tearfully asked him.

“Oh, uh. . . darlin’, I–” He wouldn’t meet your eyes. 

“Please? I wanna know I’m okay.” 

After a long pause, he said “Okay, sweetie.” 

You wanted to be sure you weren’t bit, so you could have peace of mind and get to sleep.  He was hesitant about it, gently lifting your shirt, which gave you butterflies.  Then you started to take it off entirely, and he swallowed and looked away for a moment. You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your breasts with a different gaze. He turned you around by curling his thick fingers around your back and nudging you toward him to rotate. "Turn around a sec," he murmured lowly. That was the spark. The gentle nudge of his fingers made your skin feel ten degrees hotter. The crackle of the fire loudly filled the heated silence of the moment as he checked out the skin on your back. 

You asked him to look at your legs. He pulled up your pants legs one at a time as far as they would go to check your calves and ankles. Your heart raced as his fingers skimmed your skin when he rolled each pants legs up. In the fire light you watched his face and it was the closest you seen him. His facial lines and marks made him look like an action hero. His eyes were deep and thoughtful. 

He rolled down your pants legs and said beyond that you were probably okay, since your pants weren't ripped. There was a new heartbeat between your legs. The buzz of his innocent touch lingered on your skin all night. That's when you admitted to yourself that you had a crush on him. You caught yourself feeling a little disappointed he didn't take down your pants earlier.

—--

At first, Joel saw you as just a girl. The injustice of you having to make it on your own dominated his view of you. He also saw you as a liability. The fact that you wouldn't accept his help at first meant he had to keep track of you as well as any danger.  If you perished and he could've done something to stop it, it would eat him up. He didn't know how many more deaths he could carry with him. 

Then he got to know you, and you were the first person to make him smile in... he didn't know how long. Despite the world around you, you still delighted in the smallest things and it was infectious. He began to smile to himself if he saw something he thought you might like. Your face lit up at certain plants and flowers. You were someone special to protect at all costs. As you opened up, hearing about your life who you lost started to make you seem a little older, like someone he could actually relate to.  

Then, that night when he was checking your skin by the fire, he was faced with the hard evidence of what it meant for him that you were a woman, or what it could mean. What what men and women often became together, and what could become of your duo. It wasn't just the curves of your body in the flickering fire light, it was the way you looked at him darkly as your tears faded. He knew that look well, but hadn't seen it in a long time. He started getting hard and discreetly adjusted himself. You probably weren't even aware of what he could see on your face, so he didn't want to read anything into it in terms of intent. But that look... He couldn't get that look out of his head, and the feeling of your soft skin wouldn't leave his rough fingertips.

-

He talked to you a little differently after that night.  No more asking you what you learned and liked in school. Long silences were more frequent but remained comfortable. During certain silences, he found himself thinking more about whether you had boyfriends and what you did with them. He tried not to pry, but one day he asked.

You told him you didn't have much of a chance to experience any of that, and a long silence ensued. He was afraid anything he said (“sorry”? “that's too bad"?) might sound perverted, and he didn't want you to shut down on him.  His heart swelled at a passing thought that he could be your first everything, and he pushed it away, feeling strange about your age and embarrassed at the thought.  But that same night, by the fire he saw that look in your eyes again.  And then, after saying good night, his thoughts returned. 

He thought about the possibilities, and his heart swelled again, and his cock swelled, too, and it wouldn't go away. He held his stiff manhood, and it throbbed in his hand. Soon enough he was quietly spitting in the same hand, trying to make small movements and control his breathing.  He forced himself to think of other women, past experiences, but his mind always returned to you with your hands on it, or your mouth, or just the way you smiled, but mostly that look, burned in his eyes. When he came with the softest grunt, he imagined your chest all shiny with his cum. 

Something in him was waking up from a long slumber, and he didn't like it. It was a distraction. He knew if he fed the beast it wouldn't leave, so he put it out of his mind and tried not to indulge the urge again. 

Just a few days later, you encountered a hostile group and lost your sleeping bag. He slept on the dirt and let you have his bag to yourself, but the whole time, you felt cold and weird.  After a couple nights of that, you told him there was no sense in him being on the dirt when there was room in the bag and you were cold.

The first time he got hard against you, you didn’t flinch or move away.  He did, but you didn't. You didn't flinch the next time either, although you did take a deep breath. He said sorry and asked if you were okay, and you said yes. He figured it didn’t bother you, and there was no need to further address it.

There was nothing he could do about it anyway. 

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Continue to smut: Aches, Thoughts, and Needs.

Thank you for reading, love you guys.

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