#like i only used her picture for her hair not her

[slutforvoldy]

“ YOU'RE LOSING ME. ” ( lando norris ! )

SUMMARY: the reader struggles with the painful realization that no matter how much she gives, lando will never fight for her the way she fights for him.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst, lando is a d!ck, gaslighting, communication issues, mentions of y/n

pairing: lando norris x female!reader

tag-list: @oscduck81

a/n: this may or may not be loosely inspired by a real life experience..........

THE ROOM WAS dimly lit, the soft blue glow of Lando’s sim racing setup casting shadows across the walls. The hum of his game filled the silence, the sharp sound of tires screeching on a digital track drowning out the soft, broken sobs escaping your lips.

You lay curled up on the bed, your back turned to him. Salty tears slipped down your cheeks, soaking into the pillow. You weren’t even sure why you were crying anymore—was it sadness? frustration? or just the aching emptiness that was growing inside you?

You knew he could hear you. He always could.

But just like every other night, he turned up the volume of his game. Hinting an unspoken message: I don’t want to hear you. I don’t want to deal with you.

And gosh, it hurts.

He always does this. He rarely talks to you despite living in the same apartment. As if there is a big wall between the two of you. As if both of you have two different worlds. His priorities had shifted, and you weren’t part of them anymore. Gaming. Racing. Nights out with friends. Work. Everything came before you. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew deep down that he just didn’t care the way he used to.

He used to act differently when your relationship started. You missed the time when it felt like his world revolved around you, when he made you feel like you were the most important thing in his life, but now you don't know when or what went wrong. You can only wonder what happened to the man you love.

Your friends are all begging you to leave.

"Wake up, Y/N!" "You deserve better." "What else is there to hold on to?"

It started to become obvious that the things Lando has been doing have been affecting you to the point that you started seeing a therapist, desperately trying to piece yourself back together.

But the worst part is that Lando never even noticed.

You knew that this was not healthy. You knew you should leave. But things are easier said than done.

The thought of walking away—of starting over, of loving someone who wasn’t him—made your stomach twist. It felt impossible, unbearable.

Despite everything, despite the pain, you still wanted to stay. You clung to the hope that one day he would wake up and realize what he was losing. That he would see you again—as someone he once loved. Someone worth fighting for.

So you stayed. Because letting go felt harder than holding on.

It’s a big day in Abu Dhabi—the moment that will decide the 2024 Formula 1 constructors' championship. McLaren almost has an even tie with Ferrari; therefore, they desperately needed Lando to win. So you take your time to self-soothe after what happened last night.

"You just don’t understand, Y/N. Why can’t you just accept the fact that I’m a busy person?" Lando exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice.

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, I’m sorry—if bar-hopping with your friends and getting all over the media with random girls counts as 'busy,' then I must be such an idiot for not taking the hint!"

His jaw tightened. "Those pictures are from a long time ago," he muttered.

"Oh, really?" you said amusingly while scoffing.

Silence stretched between you before you finally snapped. "All I ever wanted was for you to notice me! To talk to me! Hell, to actually see me! Is that really too much to ask?"

Lando ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "I don’t understand, Y/N. I’m giving you all the attention I can."

But it was never enough. It never felt like enough.

You sighed in defeat, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know you wouldn’t understand."

This morning, like every morning, you glared at him with storms in your eyes. But he didn’t notice—he never did. You wondered how numb he could be to not feel your grip on him slipping away. How could you love someone and not see them breaking right in front of you?

All you needed was his reassurance—that despite everything happening, despite the way he treated you, you were still the one he loved. But every time you brought it up, he twisted it around, making it seem like you were the problem. Every conversation turned into an argument instead of a solution, and with each fight, your resentment only grew.

One night, you needed him more than ever. After a brutal argument with your parents, they kicked you out, leaving you with nowhere to go. Lando was the only person you could turn to—the one person you thought you could rely on.

"I tried calling you. I rang your doorbell over and over and over again, but you never answered." Your voice wavered, frustration and hurt bleeding through. "So tell me, Lando—where were you that night?"

"I was sleeping!" he insisted, his tone defensive.

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Sleeping? Really?" You shook your head in disbelief. "I literally saw the notification on your Twitch that you were live with Max!" Your voice cracked as anger and betrayal surged through you. "You left me outside your house for hours!"

Lando exhaled sharply. "Maybe it’s your fault for always expecting too much," he muttered under his breath, but you caught every word.

Your stomach twisted as you stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Maybe..." His voice became louder. "It’s my fault for not being enough for you," he added, his voice flat.

"Or maybe it's our fault for not making this relationship work properly."

That was your breaking point.

Lando won the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, securing McLaren’s victory in their fierce battle against Ferrari for the Constructors' Championship. You were proud—proud that your boyfriend had claimed another Grand Prix win, proud that his team had finally won. But deep down, you knew the truth: tonight, he wouldn’t be celebrating with you.

You often envied the girlfriends of other drivers—the way they rushed into their arms after a win, how they spent their victories surrounded by their girlfriends and families. But for you, it was different. You longed for that warmth.

Now, it was time to pose for the cameras, to put on a dazzling smile and make your relationship look picture-perfect—at least on the surface. In the photos, you were the devoted girlfriend, the perfect couple. But behind your fake smile, a storm raged inside you.

You had always been there for him—through his highs and lows, his victories and defeats. But when it was you who needed him, he was nowhere to be found.

And as the flashes of cameras captured the illusion of happiness, a sinking realization settled in your chest. You couldn’t keep living like this. You couldn’t keep giving all of yourself to someone who never gave anything back.

One thing was clear tonight—you were done hurting yourself for someone who wouldn’t do the same for you.

You took a taxi back to the hotel alone, your vision blurred with tears as the city lights streaked past. The moment you stepped into the room, you began packing—hands trembling, heart racing. You hadn’t planned this, but deep down, you knew it was inevitable. It wasn’t just impulsive; it was necessary.

As you zipped up your suitcase, your fingers brushed against a worn polaroid tucked between your clothes. Your favorite picture—back when love still felt easy, when he still looked at you like you were his entire world. You held it for a moment, your thumb tracing the edges, debating whether to take it with you.

But some things belonged to the past.

Flipping it over, you picked up the hotel pen and, with a heavy heart, wrote your final words.

I love you forever, Lando. I'm forever grateful. —Y/N

You placed the polaroid on the bed, letting it rest there. Then, with a deep breath, you grabbed your bags and walked to the door.

Before stepping out, you turned back for one last glance at everything you're about to leave behind. All of the memories you and Lando had, either good or bad.

Just like that, you walked out of his life, and with every step, the weight you had carried for so long finally began to lift.

[imaginedreamwrite]

One of the 141 boys goes out for drinks and when reader picks them up they say they’re married already…yeah married to reader!

“You need to come get your husband.” Simon almost begged you through the phone, and in the background you could hear your husband—loudly announcing that he was done for the night and he needed his wife.

Of course he was slurring his words, stumbling over himself likely, after going out with Gaz, Price and Ghost. The four of them had gone out to celebrate another mission, successfully hunting and taking down their target without losses. It never bothered you when he went out, you were more of an introvert anyway which balanced out Johnny’s extroverted personality.

“He’s been staring at his ring and thinks he lost his wife. Come deal with him.” Simon’s voice was not overshadowing Johnny’s, the repeated statement of my wife is my life had clearly been heard through the phone.

You were already getting your keys and bag from the hook near the front door when Simon asked again. You were already halfway out the door toward your vehicle when you heard someone cursing Johnny’s name.

The drive itself only took 15 minutes at the most, and when you had pulled up to the curb you could see them all. Johnny was clearly the most inebriated, his eyes glossy as he leaned against the light post, muttering under his breath. When you parked and stepped out of the vehicle, a sense of relief passed through John, Simon and Kyle as you showed up to deal with Johnny.

“Having fun, Johnny?” You laughed under your breath, approaching him as he continued to mumble about his wife, about his marriage and the bed he shared with you.

“He won’t let any of us take his home, said he won’t leave with anyone but his wife.” John looked annoyed, mildly irritated by the sergeant who wouldn’t budge from his spot without his wife. “Sergeant, your missus is here!”

Johnny looked up, his glossy eyes narrowing slightly in your direction. He was looking at you as if he’s trying to figure out a puzzle, trying to place exactly where he knows you from. To your credit, he wasn’t going to go home with anyone who wasn’t you, and he made that abundantly clear by his refusal to move until his wife was there.

“I’m waiting for my wife,” he stood up straight, or at least attempted to, his arms crossed over his chest, “I’m a married man, lassie. I love my wife-“

“Johnny she is your damn wife.” Simon groaned in contempt, his arms crossing over his chest, irritated after repeatedly trying to explain the same thing to the stubborn Scotsman. “Her picture’s on the Lock Screen of your phone.”

There was tentative silence, and Johnny hadn’t shifted from where he stood. He had stared at you with furrowed eyebrows and his lips pursed. He waited for a moment until he had slipped his hand into his pocket and removed his phone, turning his attention to the screen. Like Simon was trying to tell him, there was a picture of the two of you from your wedding day—you in your beautiful dress and Johnny in his kilt suit.

It registered quickly, far quicker than you expected, and once it became clear that you were who you said you were, his face lit up.

“My bonnie wife!” Johnny’s speculation turned to excitement as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He stumbled toward you and embraced you tightly, his face nuzzling into your neck as he crooned slurred affections to you. “I was waiting for you, love. Why didnae show up-“

You laughed at his endless affections, his hands slipping down to your ass and, in front of everyone, he squeezed you with a firm grip. His fingers squeezed, his groan was hungry and dripping with need and appreciation. “I recognize this ass, my bonnie wife has such a good ass-“

“Okay, Johnny…” you laughed and pulled away from him, keys in one hand and his wrist in the other. “Let’s go home, you’ve had enough.”

“I get to go home with you.” Johnny pulled his wrist out of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, sloppily kissing into your hair. “I’m a damn lucky man, hen. I get to go home with me wife!”

You escorted him to your vehicle, helping him get into the seat without causing him to stumble. When you reached over and helped buckle him in, Johnny’s hand slid up the back of your thighs to your ass—giving you a slightly sharp yet playful spank. He grinned like the devil, overly proud of himself for being married to you, shamelessly verbalizing his pride.

“I’m the luckiest man alive, darl’.” He slurred, looking at you with an unrelenting softness even while drunk. “Look at you, you’re my wife! I get to go home with you?”

“You’re going home with me, Johnny.” You looked at him from the corner of your eyes as you began driving home, laughing when he seemed overly pleased with himself.

“Damn I’m lucky.” He repeated a sentiment he shared before, and leaned back against the seat, just happy to watch you drive.

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Chapter 10- You're too poor for that

Mild time skip*

____________________________

"Dick if you keep being hostile, I'll have no choice but to send you back to Bludhaven, it's best if you don't join us for tonight" Bruce says firmly

"What the fuck."

It was movie night and it was your turn to pick, Viviana excitedly said she had a movie she wanted everyone to watch and snatched the remote away from you, only for Cassandra to snatch the remote back from her and give it to you "it's not your turn yet" she says, in another attempt to get the remote Dick pushed her slightly but she fell to the ground and wailed

"S-s-sorry... I'm so weak and petite, it's not your fault....."

You see Stephanie's face physically recoil while Barbara looks away completely to hide her stifling laughter, you were sure everyone was laughing, As Dick was about to help her up, Bruce's vexed voice cuts through the laughter "Your sister is hurt and you laugh?"

"It was all fun, she's not even hurt that much, the floor's carpeted" Jason reasons but Bruce is having none of it "Richard apologize."

Viviana smiles and gets in between Bruce and her brothers "it's fine! I'm fine! I'm sure Dick didn't mean to hurt me" she turns to Dick "You're my brother... So.. I forgive you" then she reached out her hand to him and as if on cue, the moon shines through the window to give Viviana this glowing effect

Damn... This girl got the manhwa lighting you think

Protagonist! The moon has shined a halo on your hair, you look like an angel! Would you like to add a wind effect for 500 points?

"yeah, yeah sure" she whispered

A cool breeze flowed into the living room and Viviana's hair danced with the wind

"why is there wind here aren't the windows shut?" You ask confused, Bruce clenched his fists and looked at Dick expectantly, hoping he'd apologize and they can have a nice night together

But when has Dick ever backed down?

"I barely touched her, she fell on her own, and it never would have happened if she hadn't tried to take the remote away from Cass and (Name)"

"That doesn't matter you still pushed her"

"She's a vigilante, she'll be fine" Tim backs Dick up "I don't condone family hurting family!"

"Sure wasn't a problem when they were hurting me" you decided to butt in, you get that Viviana is supposed to be the loved one, but isn't this a bit biased? He's even turning on the others

"Dick if you keep being hostile, I'll have no choice but to send you back to Bludhaven, it's best if you don't join us for tonight" Bruce says firmly

"what the fuck."

"I'm serious Rickard!"

"fine then" Dick leaves the living room, you sigh and leave as well heading for your room, and everyone (except Viviana) followed

_____________________________

"this wasn't supposed to happen"

"this wasn't supposed to happen"

"this wasn't supposed to happen"

Viviana grits and teeth, she was supposed to be an angel, she read this once in a manhwa, where the protagonist forgives someone who hurt them and was seen as an angel by all, so what if in that story the person who was forgiven was literally trying to kill the main character and Dick just pushed her onto a soft carpeted floor

She even spent points for dramatic effect.

Protagonist, this is bad. Your story is supposed to be a happy family, you've created a rift, and it's not looking good, you'll fail at this point

"I don't know what's going wrong! Listen I've done my best to look like a saint!"

Maybe you should try being a good person

"I am a good person! That's my character, I'm so kind and good and patient that the family can't help but gravitate towards my kind soul!"

Brainwashing someone isn't a kind thing to do...

"Shut up!" Viviana throws a picture frame on the screen, the screen fuzzes out for a few moments before going back to normal

(⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

Bruce: 100/100

Dick: 0/100

Jason: 0/100

Tim: 0/100

Damian: 0/100

Duke: 0/100

Stephanie: 0/100

Cassandra: 0/100

Barbara:0/100

"How much is the love potion?"

15000 points, You're too poor for that. Make them love you manually

____________________________

Bruce didn't come home for a few days, he apologized to Dick and left, Sometimes superman keeps on stopping by to check in on the kids and Gotham

Life went like normal, Dick decided to stay cause Bruce wasn't there and as for Viviana?

She uhh... Keeps trying to frame you

She had no assignment? It's because you poured water in her bag and ruined it

She couldn't do her presentation? You broke her laptop

It didn't go well.

"Oh please, (Name) doesn't drink water, all she has is (Favorite unhealthy drink), you can't even get your lie straight"

"She probably had a good reason, you're so shitty"

Then Bruce came back.

He came back with a grim expression, a grim expression that disappeared when he looked at his children, then came back harsher than ever when he looked at Viviana

"You." He grumbled

"Let's talk."

____________________________

Dick: I'm running away y'all won't see me again

Bruce: Runs away first*

Also if you guys didn't notice, the student who kept on asking (Name) uncomfortable questions after she was attacked by the Scarecrow was also Viviana

___________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator @sirenetheblogger @00hellohello00 @the-dumber-scaramouche @wizzerreblogs @tinybrie @pearlyribbons @cruzeforce4256

[watermelonshine]

may I request vi x reader who has a bunch of stuffed animals pls?

omg I have a hoarding problem especially when it comes to stuffed animals so I'll project

cw : slight mention of reader's shitty parents, reader hoards.

girlfriend!vi who was invited to your house, making you very nervous.

girlfriend!vi who upon entering your apartment immediately felt a comforting vibe.

girlfriend!vi who noticed your walls filled with photos of you and your friends and family, even people who you didn't talk to anymore. some pinned, some framed.

"damn babe, you sure your walls got space for us?"

"I already put us up."

girlfriend!vi who noticed the booth pictures you both took on your first day pinned to the wall, next to the pictures of your family and your family dog.

girlfriend!vi who noticed a shelf of used journals next to the couch and went to check it out while you went to bring water from the kitchen.

girlfriend!vi who cracked a smile when she realised each journal was completely dedicated to each person in your life, and she happened to open the one that was dedicated to her.

girlfriend!vi who opened a page with a dried flower taped in it, written on the side was, "vi picked this flower from my hair today, I think I love her."

girlfriend!vi who was dragged away by you so that you can hang out in your bedroom and definitely not because you didn't want her to read more cringe stuff you wrote about her.

girlfriend!vi who couldn't help but gawk at the amount of stuffed toys you owned, all spread around your room. some on the table, some on the shelves, some on the sitting on the floor, some sitting on your bed.

"...are you judging me ?"

"no babe I'm just curious."

girlfriend!vi who sat down on your bed while you explained what each stuffed toy meant to you.

like the blue rabbit was given by your father when you were 6 and it was the first stuffed toy you ever got, the giraffe one was given to you as an apology by your mother after she hit you for the first time, another one being the purple dog your high school friends got you by pooling up money when your dog passed away, there was one huge penguin doll you got as an apology from your parents after you screamed at them for fighting all the time, there was this narwhal one you were gifted by your mother on your birthday as an apology for missing your graduation, and there was one small pink bear stuffed toy you from those vending machines and it was the first time you ever got anything from those perpetually jammed machines.

girlfriend!vi who realised each and everything in your apartment held value which others may think is unreasonable to keep, but the emotions and memories attached to them is something you and only you knew.

girlfriend!vi who also opened up to you about her little stuffed bunny toy she passed onto her sister, the one she held on tight to when she was informed about her parents' demise.

girlfriend!vi who drew circles in your thighs as she spoke how she understood why it was difficult for you to part ways with the things you owned.

girlfriend!vi who immediately wrapped her arms around you as you broke down, telling her about how scared you were that she was gonna think that you were some creep or judge you for being a dumb girl with attachment issues-

girlfriend!vi who cut you off with a kiss and wiped away your tears.

"I'll never judge you babe, I love you."

note : oop did I project too hard (⁠˘⁠･⁠_⁠･⁠˘⁠)

[yungistiny]

GAMEBOY ═ chapter three

[ J. Yunho ]

chapter three: better than he imagined

╚═════════

summary: yunho has no idea that his neighbor across the hall, the same one he’s had a crush on, was his arch nemesis behind a headset

warning: dom yunho, bratty/sub reader, slight orgothumophilia, masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, degradation, overstimulation, oral, sexting, more will be added

pairing: gamer yunho x gamer afab reader

genre: smut, romance, angst, drama

word count: 1.7k

chapter one

chapter two

chapter four coming soon

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

“Fuck.”

Yunho probably should of been keeping up with the time. The hot shower he had been taking had turned cold, his hand wrapped around himself, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted as the water continued to pour on him.

He had been stroking himself for so long, always getting to that premise of orgasm only to not be able to. It was pissing him off. Yunho had jumped in the shower to clean up and rid himself of the problem Juniper had given him after the heated messages before y/n got there, only he couldn’t come.

He didn’t understand what the hell was wrong with him. “Come on.” He was practically begging himself. He tried everything. Tried picturing the faceless image of Juniper on her knees. Tried imagining y/n splayed on his bed for him. Nothing. Nothing was working. Yunho was hard as hell and he just couldn’t for the life of him get himself off.

He finally got out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping a little but Yunho was too frustrated to care. He went to walk towards his room but there was an incessant knocking at the front door. “Shit!”

It had to be y/n. Wooyoung wouldn’t knock, he’d use his key but Yunho’s roommate was at work. San wouldn’t knock either. He would just find a way in. Yunho once caught him chilling in the living room, eating what leftover takeout Yunho and Wooyoung had.

He couldn’t just keep standing there. He couldn’t keep making her wait. Yunho speed walked to the front door, one hand gripping his towel to make sure it stayed on. “Hey…” y/n trailed off, eyes instantly going to his bare and still damp chest. Her eyes locked in, trailing down his abdomen, taking in the prominent abs, tracing them with her gaze.

Then her gaze went lower. The light baby blue towel wrapped around his waist did little to hide the obvious bulge.

I’m too big? You wouldn’t even be able to fit me in that smartass mouth of yours

Fuck. And it was big, that was clearly obvious. Y/N could feel her face flush, gaze averting back up to meet Yunho’s. His ears were red, cheeks flushed too. “Pizza.” She decided to pretend like she wasn’t just blatantly checking him out.

“Oh!” Yunho blinked, shaking his head. He’d seen the way y/n had stared at him a little too long but there was no way she was checking him out. If she liked him like that she would have made a move a long time ago, right? He grabbed the two pizza boxes out of her hands, bringing them into the open kitchen and sitting them on the counter.

Y/N followed him inside, a bag hanging from each arm, a small six pack of soju in each. “I’m gonna go get dressed.” Yunho helped her put the soju in the fridge before darting off to his bedroom. Fuck! He still had a slight boner and there was nothing he could try and do about it now.

He grabbed the tightest pair of underwear he had and the baggiest sweatpants he had, putting them on along with a plain black shirt. All Yunho could hope for is by watching Yellowjackets, a show about a group of survivors on borderline cannibalism, would make his hard on finally disappear.

And it did. They were already through the first six pack of soju, first pizza eaten and halfway through the fifth episode of the show. “She really killed her only friend!” Y/N was giggling, not that the scene was funny but she was tipsy and the scene took her by surprise.

“I told you Misty was crazy.” Yunho laughed getting up from the couch to go get another drink. He knew he was drunk, stumbling a little when he stood too fast. He grabbed a canned soda from the fridge, popping it open with one hand.

Y/N watched him in her slightly drunken gaze, she hadn’t drank as much as he had already but she was far from sober. And fuck did Yunho look tempting. His hair had air dried, wavy now and looked so soft. His neck and face was flushed red from the alcohol.

She suddenly thought about how after their little messages last night, not that Yunho was aware yet that it was her, y/n had made herself come with her favorite vibrator and Yunho’s name on her tongue. She wanted him, needed him so bad it was starting to drive her crazy.

Yunho was having the same problem. He was so damn sexually frustrated thanks to Juniper, he was on the verge of throwing all caution to the wind and just make a move. He’s wanted y/n for so long, the alcohol in his system killing any nerves or rational thinking.

And they would both blame their next actions on the alcohol but it was anything but. Y/N just looked at him too long, looked too good in the shorts she had on and Yunho loved her legs, especially her thighs.

Y/N kissed him first, his perfect cupids bow lips just too enticing. It was all hunger and lust, tongues fighting each other as Yunho pinned her down beneath him on the couch, moans escaping them both as he moved, picking her up, y/n legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to his room.

Yunho struggled to open his door, almost losing his balance. He was too afraid to break the kiss, scared he was just drunk and passed out, imagining things. He needed this to be real.

He did break the kiss though, or well, y/n did, trailing her mouth up his throat, tongue darting across his adam’s apple. “Fuck…” she found his sweet spot and Yunho was a moaning mess once he finally got his bedroom door open.

He practically fell to his knees, dragging her shorts down her legs, helping her undress. His tongue was diving into her already wet cunt the second y/n clothes were tossed behind him carelessly in his room.

He wasted no time making her come. Sucking her clit into his mouth, two of his long fingers thrusting into her, y/n walls clenching around them as she pulled at his hair.

Yunho added a third finger, curling them and thrusting again, his fingertips brushing against that spongey little spot deep inside her that had y/n crying out his name as her orgasm hit her. Coming all over him, his tongue trying to desperately lick her back clean.

He half expected it to end then, Yunho didn’t exactly have any condoms at the moment and he was certainly too big to fit Wooyoung’s. But then y/n had to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue and then whimper against his lips how she was on the pill.

Which is how Yunho ended up with her on top of him, his hands gripping her waist as y/n own splayed against the wall at the headboard of the bed, cunt so full of Yunho’s dick she was almost in tears. “Fuck… you’re so big…. so fucking full…”

Yunho needed to be deeper, he wanted to be buried so far inside her it was halfway driving him crazy. So he flipped her over, pinning her hands above her head, dick still buried inside her but so much deeper now.

“God…” he rested his forehead against her own, both damp with sweat. He’d wanted her like this for so long he was terrified it was a fever dream. She felt so much better than he imagined.

Yunho gripped her waist, sitting up and moving her, bringing her to meet him with every thrust. Y/N was a mess under him, her smaller hands gripping tightly at his wrists as his own grip he had on her waist tightened enough to probably leave a couple little bruises but she didn’t care, he was fucking her too good to even want to care.

Yunho was mesmerized, watching the entire length of his dick repeatedly disappear into her tight soaking walls, clenching him as y/n second orgasm was ready to pull her under, make her drown in it. He wanted to ruin her, make a complete mess of her, but even through his drunken state, Yunho assumed y/n wasn’t like that.

Y/N came again with his name leaving her like a mantra. Yunho leaned down burying his face into the crook of her neck as he chased after his own orgasm that hit him so hard he was whimpering, shuddering at finally being able to reach that release he couldn’t give himself earlier.

She would probably regret it, Yunho didn’t care. He’d go back to pretending to just be her friend. He’d act like it never happened, no matter how hard that was going to be.

He’d do whatever she wanted as long as it kept her in his life.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

San arched a brow at y/n as she tried sneaking into their apartment early in the morning. He gripped his cup of coffee, snorting in amusement when she bumped into the small table beside the coat closet. “Long night?”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, hangover hitting her hard, she was never a good drinker, much like San, a bit of a lightweight. “I slept with him.” She had woken up tangled up with Yunho in his bed, everything that happened between them rushing back and she snuck out, freaking out, because what if he regretted it?

“What?” San sat his coffee down on the coffee table, looking at his best friend like he was sure he hadn’t heard her right. “I slept with him!” Y/N repeated, exclaimed, as she walked towards her bedroom, San following behind her.

“You mean you slept together?” San surely was hearing her wrong. “Yea, I fucked him.” Y/N collapsed on her bed, staring up at her ceiling. What the hell would she say to Yunho when she saw him? She had a stream with him tonight. “That’s not just it….. I’ve kind of been, well, Juniper, has been sexting with him.”

San stood with his hands on his hips. “So you’ve been sexting him as Juniper and you fucked him as yourself?” He couldn’t believe the situation. “Ok Hanna Montana, you know he’s going to be pissed when he finds out the truth, right.”

It was a fact San was sure of. He’s known Yunho for a long time and there was no way he was going to be ok with y/n lying to him all this time, especially after sleeping with him.

Y/N closed her eyes, sighing, feeling a little guilty.

“I know.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ateezswonderland @therealcuppicake @aerangi @delulu4yuyu @hyuninslutbbgirl @fireseo @insanityz @kyeos4ng

[lokischocolatefountain]

Not Interested | A Materialists fic

Fandom: Materialists

Pairing: Harry Castillo x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2.2k words

Summary: Some people don’t want more. Hearts broken from previous relationships, you and Harry are not interested in more. But in each other…? That’s a different thing.

Tags: Meet cute, Reader is grieving, Harry got dumped, mild angst, Reader is bi and has hair, canon non-compliant since the movie isn’t even out

A/N: Finally! Pedro in a romance (SWOL scenes were shorter than I hoped). It’s late considering he has the perfect face to make literally anyone fall in love with him. I got the idea for this fic when we all breathed a collective sigh of relief knowing his name is Harry Castillo and not Randy. This is set in a world where Dakota Johnson chooses Chris Evans over Pedro.

⌘ ⌘ ⌘

“Listen… Randy, right? I’m not interested in you.”

“It’s not Randy,” he said, turning around in his bar stool and looking you up and down. His tongue darted out, licking his plush bottom lip and he gave you the faintest smile. “But thanks for letting me know.”

“Shit,” you cursed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sorry. I thought— My friend set me up with someone and I was supposed to meet him here and I thought it was you. Sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he said, still not turning away from you. He looked good under the golden light of the upscale bar where your friend told you to meet Randy. ‘You’ll know him when you see him’ was her response when you asked for a picture of the guy. Dude was probably ugly or old.

“So…this Randy is so terrible you’ve already decided you aren’t interested?”

“It’s not really about Randy,” you said, climbing into the chair adjacent to his for no reason. You had no intention of picking a guy up at a bar that night, set up by a friend or not. It was a week night and you should’ve left. Your suit was uncomfortable, your hair was a mess from being under a hard hat and your shoes had traces of sand from the work site. If you weren’t a regular there, you would’ve been denied entrance. Politely.

The man raised a hand and waved a bartender over. “A drink for the lady on me.”

“Oh I can’t—”

“Can be water or a cola. For the trouble you went through to see this guy.”

“Oh well. A gin and tonic, please,” you said, knowing it was a much better choice than a glass of wine all alone in your house with your girlfriend’s cat that hated you.

“Tough day?” He asked.

“Tough week.”

“It’s Tuesday, darling.”

“I didn’t have a weekend.”

“Yet you look stunning.”

“Uh huh?” You said, studying him. “That work for you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t use the same line all the time. I work on a case by case basis.”

“Mmm. So you admit it’s a line.”

“Randy’s loss, my gain,” he said with a shrug.

He was fucking beautiful, you realized when you relaxed into your seat, your feet no longer attempting to drag you away. He had dark curls styled neatly, a greying beard that was charming despite being patchy. His eyes were a deep brown, shiny like those bobas kids had in their teas these days. The only other person with eyes like— well shit, if that dipshit cat Scooter knew you thought of it as a person, it would only lord over you even more. Scooter had similar dark eyes it used to manipulate you into doing absolutely everything.

When he turned, you caught the shape of his nose and fuck if it looked good. Big and bold with a curve that made him look like a statue unearthed from the ruins of Ancient Rome. A good place to sit if you were looking for one.

You scoffed, looking away from him as you accepted the gin and tonic with a quiet thanks.

“What are you hoping to gain, exactly?”

“Nothing you don’t want to give,” he said, his eyes darting down to your lips. You gripped the glass tight in your hands. It had been a while since you were around such attention. Well. There were some but none you bothered registering as attention.

“I’m good just seeing your pretty face until we finish our drinks and never see each other again.”

Simple enough. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but you appreciated the honesty. “To never seeing each other again?” You said, raising your glass.

“To never seeing each other again,” he said, raising his.

“So��� why are you here drinking alone? At least I have an excuse.”

“You’re not drinking alone,” he said. “You’re drinking with me. And your excuse is that you came to a bar to reject a guy you can’t even find?”

“It’s rude to stand someone up. I have manners. And clearly, Randy doesn’t. And what kind of name is Randy anyway,” you huffed, taking a sip of your drink. Here you were as agreed upon despite being tired and wanting to do nothing but drink enough to fall asleep so you could work tomorrow. But fucking Randy was nowhere to be seen.

You knew everyone at the bar. It was the exclusive sort, entry restricted to people in a certain tax bracket— those who made enough to be taxed little to nothing. No one you could meet there would be interesting outside of work. It was the sort of place you went to for networking, not for fucking. Or romance. Not that you were looking for it. Something Gemma really wanted for you when she set you up.

“You’ve only talked to me since you arrived. Randy could be anyone here.”

“Oh, I know this place,” you said, waving your hand dismissively. “And I know everyone here. Black shirt there holds enough shares in Blackrock to be guillotined for the impending housing crisis. Bald guy flirting with that poor girl in the corner has a trad wife content creator who funds his failing businesses.”

“She looks young enough to be his daughter.”

“He’s not that old. Just unbelievably ugly.”

He snorted, “What about the old guy in the leather jacket?”

“He owns the building so he comes over all the time. Tried to hit on me and my girlfriend poorly once. And he’s old enough to actually to be my father.”

He asked you about others at the bar and you briefed him. At some point, you bought him a drink. Whiskey, neat. Same as what he had in hand when you very rudely mistook him for your date.

“And that’s why you were so sure I was Randy? Because you know everyone else here.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Take the debriefing as making up for my rudeness.”

“I would, but you haven’t told me about everyone in this bar.”

You scrunched up your nose at that, looking around the bar to see if you’d missed anyone.

“Who? I’ve told you about everyone here except the staff.”

“You haven’t told me about the beautiful woman in the navy suit,” he said, nodding to you. You should roll your eyes. Be rude or refuse to tell him about yourself. But your behind remained glued to the seat.

“I run a construction business. What about you, stranger?”

“Real Estate. Maybe we could do business together.”

“Yeah? Is this how you find people to do business with?”

“Not very sustainable to only find business with women who reject me.”

“Are you always this cocky?”

“Oh always, but especially when a woman rejects me before introducing herself.”

“I was rejecting Randy.”

He whispered your nickname, a name only your friends and family used. You hadn’t told him that. Hadn’t introduced yourself at all. He smiled apologetically, his big brown eyes in full force to endear you further to him.

“It’s Harry, by the way. Harry Castillo. Gemma calls me Randy because of an unfortunate incident in Intro to Project Management.”

“You lied to me!”

“And you were very rude. What a way to introduce yourself to someone,” he said with a shrug.

“I did say it’s not about Randy— you. I was in a long term relationship until recently and I’m just not looking for anything serious now.”

“I’m not either. I’m fresh out of a serious relationship and I came here only because Gemma insisted.”

“She’s allergic to staying out of people’s business.”

“Tell me about it,” he scoffed and the two of you shared a laugh.

You sighed, eyes darting all over his face. And elsewhere. He was built well. Tall enough, broad chest narrowing into a V at his waist. Arms that didn’t seem to be for vanity’s sake. He looked strong, not like a man getting a personal trainer and steroids for his mid life crisis. His hands were fucking huge. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was holding a small glass. His fingers were thick and fuck it’d been so long and your vibrator was good but you missed a warm body against yours.

“So… what did a woman do to fumble you?” You asked.

“Cheated on me with a bartender ex who still has roommates.”

“Shit, that’d do it.”

“He turned out to be the love of her life, so…” he shrugged, his sad smile tugging at your heart. “How did you fumble yours?”

“Ouch. You think I fucked up?”

“Yeah. I don’t see anyone fumbling you,” he said, his thumb brushing his mustache as he gazed at

you appreciatively. “I mean, look at you.” He touched his bottom lip with his thumb and nodded towards you. From anyone else, the gesture would’ve felt sleazy. You shuddered under his eyes, a part of you glad that you could still feel things like this but another part feeling guilty. Like you were cheating.

“She fumbled me, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah? What did she do?”

You shrugged, a sad smile finding its way to your lips. “I proposed and she went and got cancer about it. I would’ve just accepted a no, like jeez what a drama queen.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low but not laced with the icky sympathy that made you angry and uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. Time has passed since she…” you trailed, clearing your throat and looking away. It felt strange talking about her to someone who never knew her. Strange to be talking to someone in a situation you wouldn’t have been if only she was still there.

“So that makes it two women I know who rejected you,” you said, needing to say something to clear the air of the dead girlfriend conversation. The more it lingered, the more uncomfortable it made people.

“Still only one, same as you. You rejected Randy, not me.”

“You are Randy!”

“You were having fun with me until you realized I’m Gemma’s friend. And what kind of name is Randy anyway,” he said, repeating your own words back to you.

You wanted to know what how he earned the name. Randy. You wanted to coax him into telling you his little secrets. See if he was just as interesting inside as he was outside. “Gemma isn’t such a terrible friend after all. Maybe we should listen to her.”

“That line often work for you?” You asked.

“Yeah, I tell pretty women we should fuck because my friend said so. Works out great.”

You laughed, but looked down at your lap, guilty you laughed so easily for someone who wasn’t her.

If Gemma trusted him… It was a safe option. One night and never see him again.

You leaned towards him and ran your hand up his arm from elbow to bicep. You stopped and gave him a squeeze, biting back a whimper when you felt how firm he was. You tilted your head a little and regarded him carefully, your voice low and sultry when you said, “I think we should fuck, Harry. My friend said we should.”

“Line works when you say it,” he said, bridging the distance between you. He looked into your eyes and then your lips and back at your eyes, a silent request for permission. Fueled by your two gins and tonic, you moved to kiss him.

Harry was a gentleman but was no prude. He kissed slowly but without hesitation, soft lips firm against yours. His mustache poked and tickled, a novel sensation not wholly bad. You allowed yourself to cup his cheek, your thumb drawing patterns into skin. A patch of skin without hair found you and you traced its shape as you relished in the taste of whiskey on his lips. It was different from kissing women, kissing her. It’d been so long since you kissed a man and you found you didn’t hate it. A large hand came up to your knee, caressing gently, and you gasped softly. For your part, you slid one hand over his arm, the other busying itself with the back of his neck.

You wanted to be closer, sit on his lap and press yourself against his chest. Soon, your hand made its way down his neck, landing on his chest. He moaned into the kiss as you explored him, all broad and hard muscle beneath his sweater that contradicted him with its softness. A tingle ran through your body when he touched a sensitive spot in the back of your neck. A whimper escaped you despite yourself and he seemed to have caught on. His thumb went over the spot slowly, repeatedly, and you gasped softly from the feeling. You pulled away, the first to need air. He smelled good, you realized when you remembered to breathe.

His eyes were studying you, really looking in a way that was too much. Too deep. You looked away, your heart beats hammering away in your ears.

Too much. Too much. Too much. But you resisted the urge to up and run.

She wouldn’t want you drinking yourself to sleep every night. Told you as much herself. Asked you to promise you’d try.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly and the space between them scrunched up, showing off lines of his age but also making those brown eyes more lethal.

“Harry?”

“Mmm?”

“Did you drive here?”

When he nodded, you said, “I’m going home now. You can follow me. No staying the night. Just…drive off when we’re done. Is that okay with you?”

“Sounds perfect.”

⌘ ⌘ ⌘

Pedro Pascal character fics masterlist here

Follow my sideblog @chocofountain-notifs and turn the notifications on to be notified when I post fics

My ask box is open for Harry Castillo thoughts and headcannons

[idksmtms]

You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 9

Full Request

Part 8 << PART 9 >> Part 10

AN: I am so so so sorry it took me so long to get this out omg. First it was life, then it was uni, then writer’s block and just aaaa! Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading this and keeping up with it since it started. I am so thankful to all of you!!! I hope you enjoy this and get ready for the final part of the series! 

Summary: Percy learns the ways of camp, meets new and… interesting people, and embarks on a quest that will change his life. 

Word count: ~10.8k 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), personal insecurity, absentee parents technically, abandonment issues, angst, kidnapping, depictions of someone being held against their will, way too heavy use of dramatic irony, any warnings associated with Percy’s adventures, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. (I do use some scenes from the show verbatim but I did not write the dialogue for those scenes, only the descriptions attached.) 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Percy heard the soft rustle of a voice on the wind. Surely he had imagined it, he thought, gazing around the darkness of the woods, the shadows in the leaves and the sudden quiet that had descended once more. But he would swear on his life that he had heard a quiet “Perseus…” whisper in the wind. He shook his head, wiping at his eyes to make sure any trace of tears and pain had disappeared, before tossing the contents of his little fire onto the forest floor and stamping out the embers. 

Night had descended on Camp Half-Blood and everyone had taken to their cabins. While a quiet chatter still emitted from the doors of each cabin, the grounds of the camp were mostly still and silent, disturbed only by the occasional stamping of hooves from the pegasus stables, and Percy Jackson tiredly making his way to the bathrooms. 

He turned the corner around the (rather magnificent) bathroom building, only to be faced with Clarisse, arms crossed, stern look painted on her face. Another two of Ares kids stood behind her, a pack of wolves. 

“Hey guys! Can’t sleep, huh?” Percy joked, though the hairs on his arms rose. 

They were quick to pounce on him, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him into the outhouse cabin as Clarisse watched on nonchalantly. They threw him to the floor, and he grunted as he fell back, hitting it with a smack. He turned onto his back, palms pressed down as he gazed up at her. He felt a bit like an ant about to be squashed under her boot. 

“Every new kid shows up here and they think they’re special. Do you think you’re special?” Clarisse asked, nudging her chin forward as she waited for a response. Percy frowned, glancing around at all of them. 

“No?” 

The two with Clarisse grabbed him under the arms and hauled him to his feet, the one to his left grabbing at his hoodie. He struggled, grunting as he tried to push them off, but they were built of steel, immovable. 

“Tell me you made it all up about the Minotaur, and I’ll let you go.” Clarisse came to stand right in front of him, staring him down. Percy frowned in confusion. 

“I didn’t make anything up.” 

Clarisse glanced between the two kids holding onto him, then gestured to the stall with her head, barely a movement. They began to haul Percy toward it, each of them groaning with the effort. He struggled, his feet just about scraping the ground. Clarisse sighed as she watched on. 

“Some kids gotta learn the hard way.”

The boy to his left kicked the back of his knee and forced him down to lean in front of the toilet. The smell of detergent and water and that distinct porcelain toilet smell began to overwhelm him. He was desperate now, disoriented and desperate to escape. He could hear Clarisse’s sinister chuckle behind him as she watched on like some sick dictator taking pleasure in her clever torture methods. 

They forced his face down to the toilet bowl, right to the edge of the seat. His nose began dipping down just under it, a hair’s breadth from the water. He closed his eyes, willing for escape, willing for strength, anything to get him out of this hellish predicament. When suddenly, the water was sucked back up into the pipes. He heard it, carefully prying his eyes open and seeing it quickly fall through the hole and disappear. 

The two kids let him go and quickly stood up and moved back. The sound of water gurgling was suddenly rumbling under the cabin. They all stood still and listened. It was like a flash. The water shot out of the toilet and above Percy’s head as he crouched down to avoid it. It seemed to separate into three tendrils, smashing through the walls of the stall and turning into swirling columns that attacked each of the others standing just outside. 

They were shoved into the walls, onto the floor by the door. The water was quick to dissipate, falling onto the floor in a splash. The three Ares kids looked like drowned rats, drenched and dripping in damp shirts and jeans, shoes that squelched as they gasped and tried to find their bearings. 

Percy slowly unfurled from where he was crouched by the toilet bowl. Water was bursting out of the sinks, the floor was slippery and slowly turning into a lake. Even the sprinklers had burst open and poured down on them. He stood up straight, shaking, hoodie dishevelled from the roof treatment and stared at Clarisse as she shook the water off her hands. Her hair draped around her face, limp, and she glared at him with the power of a thousand suns. She was quick to run after her already fleeing companions. 

Percy watched after her, slowly stepping out of the stall, shoes drenched and splashing through the rising water on the floor. He looked around him at the destruction, at the fountain spouting from the right-most sink. He almost gasped to find a girl with long braids leaning against the door, arms crossed, watching him. 

“I can explain,” he began slowly. She huffed. 

“No you can’t.” 

“Okay,” he breathed out. He glanced around awkwardly, but he couldn’t keep his eyes away from her for long. He soon realised why. 

“Wait, I know you.” 

“No you don’t.” She answered instantly, shaking her head as she looked at him with something akin to disdain. 

“Yeah, but you were there. That night in the infirmary.”

“Yes. I’m Annabeth.” She introduced herself like it was a given, like she was the most Annabeth Annabeth an Annabeth could be. 

“Are you stalking me, Annabeth?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. She thought for a moment.

“Yes,” she shrugged. 

“Okay,” he said slowly, nodding his head. “Why?” She seemed almost annoyed that he would bother asking her why. 

“Well, I’ve been waiting to see if something like this,” she gestured to the room with her hand, “would happen. So I’d know if you can help me.” She shifted and leaned more firmly against the wall. 

“Help you do what?” Percy asked, shifting a little closer. 

“Win Capture the Flag.” 

That was the last thing Percy expected her to say. 

Percy gasped for air, glancing between Luke’s celebration and the pebbles on the beach. His entire body seemed to gasp for air. Fighting Clarisse, breaking her spear, it was almost like the Minotaur all over again. His blood was thrumming, the cut on his cheek burned, but… he felt alive. He had known exactly what to do, how to move. Instinct. The conflict of emotion rose within him, and all he could do was stand there and pant. 

“Not bad, hero.” His head shot to the left, but he could only see the treeline. A moment later the air shimmered and Annabeth appeared, pulling a Yankees cap from her head as she strolled down to meet him. He frowned at her, still panting. 

“Were you here the whole time?” He asked incredulously. 

“Yes,” she responded, as if it was obvious. 

“You were here the whole time and you didn’t help me?” He asked, almost yelling, shocked and angry. 

“Yes,” she shrugged, again, behaving like this was obvious and normal. 

“Why?!”

Annabeth simply stepped forward and held out her hand to him. He looked at her, at her hand, then with a grunt, reached out and grabbed it, allowing her to help haul him back to his feet. She looked into his eyes, suddenly serious. 

“Listen…” she trailed off. “Percy.” He stared at her, eyebrows twitching into a frown of confusion. But she just shook her head and frowned in frustration, “I’m sorry,” and shoved him in the chest. 

He went reeling back, stumbling over his own heels and slamming straight into the water. It was barely knee height, but he splashed and flailed for a moment before lifting his head and chest up to stare at her in astonished frustration. 

“What is wrong with you?!” He yelled, loud enough for the rest of team blue to turn away from their celebrations and stare at the pair of them. 

He struggled to his feet, standing in the surf, and about to make his way back onto dry land when Annabeth began running her eyes over him. He felt it, an almost tingling feeling in the places he had been cut. He reached up to his cheek, gently grazed his finger over his cheekbone, but there was nothing there, only unblemished skin. The bruises and cuts on his arms seemed to wash away with the water, the dirt and blood dripping away as if it had never marred his body in the first place. Percy examined his arms then looked at Annabeth in fearful confusion. 

“I don’t understand.” 

But Annabeth wasn’t looking at him. Her face, soft in triumph then awe, was tilted up to the space above his head. He noticed a soft glow of light fall over his eyes and he leaned back, looking up at the space above his head. There, hovering over him was a glowing blue trident. It was like some high-tech hologram, sharp and clear. Annabeth huffed out a chuckle as she looked at it. 

“Your dad’s calling.” Percy glanced back to look at her, before realising that every person in camp had their eyes fixated on him. Luke and Chris turned away from the flag, staring at the sign above his head in shock as Chiron slowly made his way down the beach. He looked as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing as he gazed down at Percy. 

“You have been claimed by Poseidon, Earthshaker, Stormbringer.” Chiron announced, continuing to stare at him as if Percy had just grown wings or done something else that would be considered actually impossible in this impossible world. “Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon.” 

A gasp ran around the camp. A murmur arose amongst everyone watching, hands coming up to shield their mouths as they whispered to each other. 

“This is impossible.” 

“How is this possible?”

“Poseidon… was he ever known for having affairs?”

“I thought he had never had a demigod child. Like… ever.”

“Has this ever been mentioned in any of the old stories?”

“What about Poseidon and…? I thought the whole story of her betrayal and banishment…”

“Poseidon was only known to ever take one lover…”

“But the old stories about Poseidon and…”

“What is everyone whispering about?!” Percy burst out, staring with wide wild eyes. 

“Come, Percy, we have much to discuss,” Chiron gently gestured to the boy. But his mind was racing behind his calm eyes, because if there was one thing to know about Poseidon other than his domain over the sea, it was that he was a god who loved only one…

You were not sure how to describe your prison. It was a prison in your own mind. A room with no door. Stark white. A roof that both closed in on you, yet was an endless sea of white… Walls that did not permit you to escape, but if you reached out to touch them, only a white expanse was bare before you. Except one. One wall was an eye, or at least, what an eye would see. Like those huge screens humans had invented. You could watch your son, your Perseus. You could watch him live his life, watch him struggle through the ins and outs of camp, like a fly following him around, watching everything so you could watch him too, like a never ending play or a film. It was torture. It was a blessing. 

You were curled up on the floor, your head on your hands as you watched the girl shove him into the sea. As you watched your husband, the love of your life, do what you could not. Your eyes welled up, pain and joy fluttering together in a dance in your chest. He knew of his father. At least he knew of his father. You stared at the glowing symbol of Poseidon. Your heart called out desperately for him. Your mind screamed his name, over and over. Wished only for him and Perseus. Only for him and Perseus. Only for him and… 

Mr. D sat in the glass attachment of the Big House and sipped from a Diet Coke as he stared off into space. The news of Percy’s claim had reached him. A son of Poseidon. How intriguing… 

He had been there, of course, that day so long ago that it blended into the long-reaching fabric of time. Though he had been rather tipsy off his own wine, he had still been there to welcome the Norse gods. And though he was perhaps not the most observant of gods, anyone could have seen the way Poseidon had become enraptured with you. But who could deny that? You were beautiful and kind, you had even had Hermes vying for your heart back then. But Poseidon had been triumphant, of course he had been. 

And it was… different, between you and Poseidon. Even him, deep in his cups, could note that. You had returned for him, glowed with a love for him that would make Aphrodite and Eros jealous. What you and Poseidon had found with each other, no other gods could boast of that. Even after your banishment, after the separation of the Greek and Norse gods, Poseidon had held onto you. He could tell. 

At first it was because he was sure you two were meeting despite the danger. Though Poseidon had fought the banishment with his entire heart, had raged at Zeus for so long, he had sort of, calmed down after a while. His fighting was not so pronounced, as if he had found some peace somehow. It was only plausible that the two of you had found each other again. But then, millenia later, Poseidon had become stony-faced once more. He stayed secluded to the sea, only returning to Olympus for the most dire of matters, not giving into Zeus, losing any… whimsy he may have once possessed. It became a dark picture. 

So to see Percy Jackson appear now, a son of Poseidon… Well, something didn’t quite add up. Poseidon would not have been disloyal. He would not have strayed. The love he held for you was not so easily swayed. It was simply not possible that Percy had a human mother. Or a mother other than… you. 

Mr. D turned his head to look out at the water and chewed lightly at his lip. He wouldn’t say anything yet. He feared others may have already begun to connect the dots. Because if what he suspected was the truth… then Percy was nothing so simple as a forbidden child… 

“As a forbidden child of the sea god, you are singular amongst demigods. And your father’s only hope to prevent the outbreak of war.” Chiron stood with his back to the windows as he looked down at Percy. Percy still wasn’t quite used to craning his neck back to look up at the centaur. “For months now, Zeus and Poseidon have been locked in a dispute over the master bolt. The symbol of Zeus’s authority. And it has been stolen. Again.” 

“What do you mean, again?” Percy asked, head tilted and face scrunched up in confusion. 

“It was stolen once, a very long time ago,” Chiron sighed, looking out the door behind Percy wistfully.  “But…well, that’s another story for another time.”

“Who stole it?” Percy asked, hoping to keep the conversation on track. He wasn’t sure where this was going. 

“You did.” Mr. D answered, arms hanging at his sides as he nodded toward Percy. 

“What?” Percy frowned, looking between Mr. D and Chiron. How was being claimed by Poseidon not the weirdest thing to happen to him today? 

“Zeus is looking for a thief, sees a forbidden child claimed by his jealous brother… It doesn’t look good for you, kid.” Mr. D gestured to Percy with his hand, shrugging. 

“I didn’t do anything!” 

“Of course you didn’t,” Chiron soothed, looking at Percy with soft eyes. “But, your father needs your help. An ultimatum has been given to him by Zeus, that if he doesn’t return the bolt by the summer solstice in 1 week… there will be war.” Chiron paused, and the gravity of his words began to settle over the room. War. An immortal war… “That is your quest. You must leave immediately.”

“Leave?” Percy looked up at Chiron, the frown on his face deepening. “Leave for where?” 

“Zeus is king on Olympus, and Poseidon has always resented it, but there is a third brother, who has always deeply resented them both.” Chiron shifted a little. 

“It’s Hades,” Percy mused, his mind running through all the old myths Aunt Sally used to tell him. Myths… he couldn’t really call them myths anymore, could he? 

“Yes.” Chiron nodded, threading his fingers together in front of him. 

“The bolt is with Hades. In the Underworld.” Percy voiced slowly, mouth moving stiffly over the words. 

“I know it sounds daunting,” Chiron looked down at him sympathetically, almost ready to gently pat him on the shoulder. “But you won’t be alone. A quest is always undertaken by three.”

“Great. Good luck finding those guys, cause it ain’t gonna be me.” Percy shook his head, holding up his hands and ready to begin backing away. He did not sign up for this. None of this was necessary, at least not for him. 

“Poseidon has claimed you. This is his will.” Chiron said it with such finality, as if it was a given. But Percy wasn’t ready to go down without a fight. 

“Poseidon has ignored me my entire life,” Percy bit out, jaw clenching as anger began to rise up in his chest. 

“You are his son.” Mr. D jabbed his finger at him, as if that answered every possible query. 

“I am Sally Jackson’s son,” Percy shouted, glaring at Mr. D. He wasn’t going to let some random god come in here and claim to be his dad, as if he had ever been there, ever done anything that a father should do… Sally may have called herself his aunt, but he knew what a mother was, what a mother did, and she had always been that for him. 

“Who’s Sally Jackson?” Mr. D frowned, almost yelling. 

“She’s the one who cared enough to raise me, when my parents didn’t. She’s the one who got herself killed so that I could be safe here.” Percy bit his lip, the frustration piling into the backs of his eyes in the form of tears. His hands were shaking and all he wanted was… all he wanted was for Aunt Sally to be there. 

“The fate of the world hangs in the balance. You will accept this quest,” Mr. D told him firmly, eyes widening as he glared right back at Percy. 

“I won’t!”

“Hey everybody!” Grover appeared at the door, an awkward little smile on his face as he quickly hopped into the room. 

“Grover, now is not the time.” Chiron frowned, shaking his head at Grover, but the satyr was not deterred. 

“I’m sorry sir. But I have news,” Grover continued on, looking away from Chiron to Percy, determined.  

“Grover…” Chiron warned, knowing exactly where this was going, and fearing the consequences. 

“Sally Jackson is alive! It looked like she died, but it only looked that way,” Grover exclaimed, not bothered to wait a second longer. He looked at Percy directly, right into his eyes as he shared the news. 

“Grover…” Mr. D warned this time, tone low and eyes angry and exhausted. 

“Your mother was stolen… by Hades. Which means she’s with him now. In the Underworld. It’s where they want you to go too, isn’t it?” He asked quickly, looking between the two teachers and Percy. “If you can find her there, I think you can bring her back…” Grover encouraged, clasping his hands together in front of him. 

Percy looked at Grover, and all he could hear was that Aunt Sally was alive. She was alive. That was all that mattered. Aunt Sally was alive. And he would do anything, anything, to get her back. 

“When do we leave?”

Percy trudged his way up to the top of the BIg House, and pushed open the door to the attic. It creaked, an old, horror movie-style creak. It was dark, almost pitch-black, and the attic was full to the brim with… things. Helmets, mirrors, weird old togas, and even a weird dead scorpion-looking thing in a jar. He looked around at the array of items, and walked slowly through the room. The floorboards creaked and a phantom breeze made the weird hanging cages swing a little. 

He walked to the back of the room, where a grimy circular window let in the faintest wash of light. Suddenly, there was a creaking on the other side of the room, like someone had sat down in an old rocking chair and was now slowly moving back and forth. He turned, heading off in that direction. 

There was another circular window, parallel to the one he had just stood by. This one seemed only slightly cleaner, and beamed light directly down onto… someone. Something. Whatever, in a rocking chair. Percy slowly walked closer, squinting and trying to get a look at the person. They had their hands draped on the armrests of the rocking chair, their head dropped down onto their shoulder as if they had fallen asleep, or had a really bad bout of neck pain. Their hair was long, unkempt, draped over their shoulders and chest. He really hoped she was the oracle he had been told about…

“Hi,” his voice cracked. “I’m Percy. It’s nice to meet you.” She didn’t move. She didn’t even rock back in her chair. Percy glanced down, a little afraid of looking at her too long, and huffed. “I was told a quest isn’t a quest until you’ve said so?” The body did nothing. Nothing. “Which is weird, considering you’re a Halloween decoration.” He sighed out his words, feeling hopeless and a little bit stupid to be speaking to what was clearly some weird stuffed model. 

All of a sudden it began to shift. Her shoulders lifted, bones cracking as she moved and stretched her spine, grabbed harder onto the chair. 

“Oh geez,” his heart began to race. She lifted her head, leaned forward in her chair and stared directly at him. “You seem busy. I’ll come back,” he scrambled, moving back a little before turning away, ready to sprint out of the wretched attic. Who kept an attic like this anyway?! 

But he could hear… something. It was like a garbled whisper, like a sharp icy breath out. Percy turned back around, looking at her, when her mouth began to open, and a noxious green smoke poured out. It was thick and opaque, a dark swampy green. It poured out of her mouth and began to swirl, moving this way and that, as it slowly began to take shape. 

He could vaguely make out a person, a dark shadow of shoulders and a head, when it suddenly cleared into an image of… Smelly Gabe. 

“Come on, really?” Percy sighed out, already annoyed by this stupid oracle business. This was the shape it chose? Seriously? 

“You shall go west and face the god who has turned. And you shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned. The answers to the questions of your life, lay on this journey through grief and strife. Truths to be uncovered are plenty abound, necessary to free a hidden world once found. You shall be betrayed by the one who calls you friend, and fail to save what matters most, in the end.” 

You sat up onto your knees as you watched Percy leave the safety of Camp Half-Blood. You had cried as he took on the quest, sobbed as the kind son of Hermes offered your boy his shoes. Your insides were a flock of birds, constantly flapping their wings and fluttering inside your heart, your stomach. You bounced between joy at seeing your son, at being able to watch him now, to watch him learn the world he came from, and the crushing pain and dread at the thought that you could not protect him from any of it. 

You watched him on the bus, his face falling at the thought that Zeus, that random gods, would want to chase him, to kill him just for being born. That he was no longer safe. You crawled to the image on your knees, sobbing as you reached out. You brushed the image of his cheek with your fingertips, like old humans caressed photographs from their youth. You pressed your face to his, wishing you could wrap your arms around him, press loving kisses to his forehead and tell him that his mother loved him, that his mother never wanted to leave him. 

Then you began to scream as the Fury attacked him. 

It was a curse. Surely it was a curse that Odin had placed on you. To finally be able to see your cherished child, after years of being blind to him, only to watch him experience the most difficult times of his little life. He was so little… Twelve years was nothing, even less than the blink of an eye in your lifetime. But it was still so much time you had missed… so much time… 

And now, now when you were finally able to see him again, to take joy in the fact that he was alive, that he was under your watch once more, you could do nothing to help him. Nothing. You wailed for so long, with so much strength… you wailed until you could no longer wail. 

Outside your prison, Odin listened, his heart shredding itself to pieces at his daughter, his beloved child in so much pain. Pain he put upon her. But it was for your own good. Odin had to be strong. He was the Allfather, he knew what was best for you, even if you could not see it. One day, perhaps if Perseus survived his adventures and learned of his godly origins, Odin could release you so you could reunite with your child. 

He understood your pain now. He felt it as keenly as he could, but he loved you most dearly. You were his child, his most beloved child, and it was his job to protect you in the best way he could, the best way he knew how. Even if it caused you a little pain right now, you would be better off in the future. It was how it was written, he was sure. 

Freya had already tried her best to fight him on this. She had demanded your release, demanded of Odin to stop this madness. He may be the allfather but she was his child, and nothing should cause his child pain. But Freya didn’t know about Perseus, about Zeus and the threat of a war between gods that would destroy Midgard… No, she didn’t know. 

Perhaps he could be kind though, lenient in his imprisonment of you. Allowing Freya to visit you would perhaps soothe you a little, would perhaps calm Freya’s fighting spirit. He too was feeling rather destroyed listening to your pain. Yes, perhaps he could arrange that at least…

You believed you were on the bridge of madness. Or perhaps you had been cursed to lose your godly powers and become human, unstable. The laughs of relief and triumph that bubbled out of you as he cut off the Gorgon’s head, as he used it to turn the Fury to stone. Because how could you laugh in this prison, amongst all the pain? It was pride, clear as fresh water that burst through you, bubbled within your chest and overflowed along your skin. You were proud of your darling Perseus. He was intelligent and resourceful. He was kind and loyal, and all the good things you had always hoped for him to be. He was good. 

And you laughed again as you watched him send the head to Olympus. Laughed and laughed and laughed until your heart ached and you dissolved into tears once more. 

You could see her. Echidna, smirking as she threatened your child. You yelled, screamed, tried with all your might for Percy to hear you, to run. The creature stuffed into that bag, hidden in plain sight, was not to be trifled with. A chimera, young, and hungry. 

You dug your nails into the ground, pressed your face close to watch Perseus, Grover, and Annabeth jump from the train. You watched them, catching your breath as they did theirs. 

He clutched his side, groaning in pain. It felt as though you had run out of tears. You had cried so much for your son that you could cry no more. You reached out, gently caressing his hair, wishing you knew how his beautiful curls actually felt. Those were the curls his father had when he stepped out of the water and allowed himself to be at the whim of the water and the sea air. Those were your curls once too…

You watched the little group stroll through the St. Louis arch, watched Percy collapse, his pallour became blue and sickly. Your pain was renewed. Every time you thought you had felt the worst of it, some new fresh horror was presented to you, and you were right back at the start. 

You watched them douse him with the fountain water but you could only shake your head, fidgeting in agony, pursing your lips and biting on them as you refrained from screaming. He needed the sea, proper, fresh, natural water. The water blessed by his father. 

Instead they took him into the temple. But you knew, you knew that wretched Athena would not help them, not even her own daughter. Her own glory mattered more. She would do nothing to aid them. You were proven right as the chimera ventured easily through the doors, sniffing at the ground as it chased after their scent, the Echidna strolling leisurely behind her abomination. You vowed that you would send her to Tartarus. She would arrive slowly, in pieces that would take eons to be put back together. It would take her eons to return to the world, eons in which she experienced the same agony she had inflicted on your son. 

And then you watched him be brave. Your darling boy, sacrificing himself for his friends. Your cheeks were wet with tears, and you could do nothing but clench your hands into fists and watch him face the creature. He held the sword in his hands like he was meant to, he was a fighter, he was born to be. You watched his eyes set with determination, his jaw clench, even as the poison coursed through his body. You smiled, a tearful, pained smile because your son was a true hero. 

But when he dangled from the monument, his hands desperately gripping at the metal bar, you began to pray to Odin, to Poseidon, you even stooped so low as to beg Zeus. If only some other god, someone who could help your son, save him. But none heard your prayers. They bounced back hollowly against the walls, right into your ears. 

And as he fell from the monument, his hands slipping and his body careening through the air, you screamed. At the top of your lungs. You wailed, hands pressed into the ground. Your power rose within you, a crashing flood rising up from your belly to your chest, spreading through your fingertips. Your eyes began to glow, flickering with blue light as your very being trembled. Your mouth was open, a screech of pain and suffering flooding the room. The walls shook, you could feel the floor trembling beneath you as you watched your son fall to his doom. You overflowed. 

Every god and creature, each one of the Aesir felt your anguish. The world shook, the very branches of Yggdrasil trembled. 

Odin listened in fear, watched as cracks appeared in the boundaries of your prison. You would not be held for long. Your love for your son… it was boundless, endless, and it fed your power like nothing else. You would be held. His only choice… he only had one choice. 

Then suddenly, as you felt the powerful waterfall of relief as his father saved him, as your husband did his duty, you were immobile. You could no longer move. You were sitting on your folded legs, head turned to watch your son’s life play before your eyes, and you could do nothing but watch. It was the same as the day Odin had put you in the prison. You could do nothing. 

The walls had moved in close, you could feel them brush against your arms and legs, as if the prison was fitted to the size of your body with only an inch to spare on each side. And your son’s life filled your eyes, as if you were there with him, hovering near, unable to speak, unable to touch, unable to help, but always there, at his shoulder, watching him. 

You despised Ares. You despised him with every drop of your soul. Every piece of you reviled him. He was a god of war, like you, but he took pleasure in it, enjoyed the death and destruction. You were so far from him. The two purposes in you were constantly fighting, love and war, so often intertwined. People fought wars for love, but love had no place in war. You did not love war, though you patroned it. You fought to end war, you fought the war to reach peace. Perhaps a contradiction in itself. But you did not take pleasure in it. Never once. And you reviled Ares so for enjoying it. 

What you hated more, was that he was in the presence of your son. You did not want Perseus anywhere near him. You did not want the foul presence of Ares to taint the air around your son, let alone for him to speak to your beloved child. He was hateful, vile, the personification of destruction. Your Perseus was everything good and brave. Those things did not go together. 

You watched the sickening god of war laugh as he toyed with the children, twisting their minds this way and that, proffering his joy of an inevitable war. You felt sick to your stomach. 

It was even worse when he tasked them with retrieving his shield, dangling the ease of entering the underworld just under their noses. Of course they would accept the task, it would be stupid to refuse. It was just as bad to accept it though… 

You liked the girl, Annabeth. She was brave, unafraid of standing up to Ares. You respected that. You were glad she was with your boy, she would take good care of him. She was good too. A soft little smile twitched at your lips though your mouth didn’t move. 

It was another torture to watch your son and Annabeth try to work through Hephaestus’ amusement park. It was a sad moment, you had never had any quarrel with Hephaestus. He had kept to his own on Olympus. The most you had seen him interact with anyone was Hestia, she treated him kindly, there was a type of love there, between them, you just weren’t quite sure what it was. And Aphrodite, that jealous creature, she had mistreated him beyond belief. The one time you had seen the two of them interact, she had spoken to him with vile words, cutting him down as if she had not once been bound to him in marriage, as if there was nothing sacred there… It disgusted you. You only held sympathy for the poor god. 

But if anything of his doing caused harm to your son… all sympathy would die, fall into the black pit your heart was slowly becoming. If any of those gods hurt your son, you would personally see to their destruction. 

You watched him narrate the story of the chair to Annabeth, and you beamed with pride. He was intelligent, he knew his immortal history. A pang of sadness hit your chest then. Sally, your dearest friend Sally, was responsible for this, him. She was responsible for raising him, and she did such a wonderful job. She raised a boy with integrity, respect, honour, valour, intelligence, confidence, every possible good thing a boy could be! It was all her. Neither you, nor Poseidon could take any credit for the amazing child he turned out to be. It was all Sally. And now she was trapped, held in the clutches of Hades, for who knows what reason? He had been a friend once, a dear friend among the Greek Gods. Surely he knew about Perseus, knew of his heritage… What reason did he have to keep Sally Jackson and somehow fuel this budding war between his brothers?

You watched him stare at Annabeth with pain in his eyes. You wept as they argued, fighting to be the one to sacrifice themselves. You wanted to reach out, to clutch them both to your chest and hide them from the evils they had faced. You could feel it, the bond the two shared as they looked at each other. They were still children, so small, so young, but they were connected. There was friendship, there was love, the innocent pale love of children. You sobbed as Percy sat on the chair and allowed the gold to creep over his skin. Cried, agonising tears as he smiled, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling, the beautiful blue eyes of his father… soon overtaken by gold. 

You watched Annabeth, dear darling Annabeth, whose heart was filled with care and loyalty, step over the shield they so desperately needed to complete their task. You watched her round the chair, gaze at the gears, using all her knowledge. You watched her struggle with each piece, trying with all her might to twist and turn something, anything. Just one cog. All she needed was to be able to turn one cog and reverse whatever the chair had done. 

You watched on. There was nothing you could do but watch, locked in a prison of your father’s making. You watched as Hephaestus entered the room, watched him as he watched her. As she wept silent tears and ignored his offer to leave, struggling with a machine she could not understand, would never understand. 

Against your wishes your heart sparked a little. The girl wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t leave Percy. And not only would she not leave, she wouldn’t stand down from Hephaestus either. You would have laughed had you not felt as if you had entered a period of mourning. Annabeth had forever cemented a place in your heart. And perhaps, she had carved out a piece of Hephaestus’ too. If you ever escaped this place, if you were ever free to roam the realms of Yggdrasil once more, you would bestow every possible blessing you could on the child. She saved your son, she stayed loyal and fought to save him. Nothing you could do as a god would ever be payment enough for this… 

You felt such beautiful, innocent, joy when you realised Ares’ plan was to get Percy to Hermes. Your dear friend Hermes, a kind soul you trusted with the entirety of your own. He would help Percy. You knew he would. If he suspected, even for a moment, that Percy was your son, you were sure he would help him. He had cared for you once, graciously kept you company those many eons ago on Olympus. Yes, you knew he would help. He had to. 

And once more you were filled with pride, beautiful, lethal, pride as you watched Percy stand toe to toe with the inimitable god of war. As you watched him put Ares in his place. You smiled in triumph. Your son was just like you, even if it was only in your shared hatred of Ares. 

Your mind was beginning to work on overdrive behind your frozen facade. If Ares was protecting Clarisse this time, it meant Ares must have stolen the bolt the first time. It made sense, he was the first one to accuse you of stealing the bolt. It is far easier to be absolved when you can rest the blame on another. 

But why would he steal it? Why would he steal it just to return it so soon after? What was his agenda? The goal must have been to be rid of you, to destroy the alliance between the Greek and Norse gods. But why? And why steal it again now? What new plan had he cooked? 

The cogs of your mind turned and turned, circling the thoughts but not being able to settle on any answer as you gazed absentmindedly at the children on their journey to the Lotus Casino. 

And when they reached the casino, you could sense something was wrong. It was covered in a haze, something unnatural. There was something wrong with the Casino, and despite all your wishes for the children not to go in, you knew they would. You only hoped they found Hermes quickly. 

When Percy and Annabeth finally lay eyes on him, you beamed. He had chosen a new form since you had seen him last, this one was much more… modern, casual. He still had the same smirk though, the same mischievous glint in his eyes. He was still your same old Hermes. You wanted to reach out and touch him too, to wrap him in a hug and thank him for his friendship from eons ago. Even just a word would do, anything to let him know you were there, to let anyone know you were there….

A stray tear slipped from your eye leaving a ticklish trail down your cheek. 

You watched his face fall at the mention of Luke. Luke… the boy who had helped Percy at camp, who had been so kind to your son. Of course he was a child of Hermes, of course! You wanted to laugh. The world came full circle. His father had once been kind to you, and now he was kind to your son. The Fates loved to weave their threads in such magnificent ways.

If nothing else, maybe for the love of his son, Hermes would help yours. 

You did the only thing you could do, watching Percy speak to the Nereid. They had only just missed each other. Only just. Your Poseidon, your beloved Poseidon had been there, you could have seen him again, laid eyes on him once more… but Percy was too late. He was too late. 

You wanted to scream, but only a small choked sound left your lips. You exhausted yourself trying to fight the stillness, willing your limbs to move, just move! One inch, one twitch was enough. Just something to end this prison sentence. You wanted to disappear, to disintegrate. You wanted the humans to stop believing in you, for Ragnarok to take you into the endless darkness. You did not want to be the statue of a god any longer. 

But all you could do was sit there and watch the Nereid hand your son the pearls to return him safely. All you could do was watch your darling boy continue on this perilous journey. All you could do was… nothing. 

You watched the little gang of friends make their way through the Underworld. You watched them traverse past the souls, millions of people desperate to make their way to the next life. And you watched, with bated breath, as they outran Cerberus. He was a magnificent beast, three headed and humongous. A gorgeous creature. You had heard many tales from Hades, once upon a time… the dog was a loyal companion, if a little, uh, unconventional. The children simply needed to show him some love, he was a gentle beast if you treated him right. 

Annabeth was intelligent though, and you were glad to see her figure it out. Each and every moment she rose higher in your esteem. You could hope for no better companion for Percy than Annabeth. 

Your heart leapt into your throat as the shoes began dragging Grover towards the gaping maw of Tartarus. Your vision of them began to turn hazy. Whatever magic allowed you to see Percy was weaker in the Underworld, even weaker close to Tartarus. Your gaze on them flickered as Percy hauled Grover back up, watching the shoes fall into the pit. 

As Percy slowly unzipped his backpack and pulled the lightning bolt out, you gasped in shock, or at least, in your mind you did. The bolt… why was it in Percy��s bag? But the bag… the bag was not Percy’s. That reviled god of war… he had given the bag to Percy. That hateful creature had possessed the bolt this entire time… 

You cursed that villainous god, that repulsive deity… As soon as you were out of this prison, as soon as you had control of your limbs again, of your power, you would heap innumerable curses on him. You would personally find the Fates and ensure they wrote in only pain. You would go to the ends of Midgard to find ways to ensure the rest of his infinite days were filled with nothing but pain. You would… you would have your revenge. 

He had destroyed your life. He had ruined the peace and love you had found on Olympus, ruined any hope you had of marrying the god you loved and living peacefully with him, having children peacefully with him. And now he was ruining your son’s life. This you could not stand for. This you would not allow. 

You seethed as you watched on, as Percy and Grover considered their next steps. The ice suddenly surrounding your heart thawed a little as they set upon saving Sally. It seemed you would be endlessly proud of your son until the end of days. 

They trekked across the Underworld to Hades’ Palace. You hoped Hades remained as he had once been. He was kind at heart. Despite his title, he was a gentle soul, with a rather dry sense of humour. You, in your limited time with him, had been friends once. You were also quite sure Poseidon favoured him over Zeus (though he did not hold much love for any of his family, and you could particularly understand why when it came to Zeus) and you hoped that would give Percy some sort of sympathetic edge. 

“Hey, fellas. Welcome!” Hades walked over determinedly, arms outstretched in welcome. “Sorry about all the… Oh…” Percy and Grover watched him as he walked over from a distance, staring as he slowly became clearer and clearer. “Anyways, it’s great to meet you. I know who you are, and you know who I am, so we can just skip right past that part. Can I get you anything? Fresh pomegranate juice, a snack?” 

You would have chuckled if you could. Though he seemed a little more…jovial, than he had been before, the dry humour had not been done away with. Oh how you missed him… 

“Actually if…” Grover began, but was quickly interrupted. 

“My aunt.” Percy’s face was set with determination. 

“Boom. Straight to business.” Hades looked Percy up and down then offered him a little smile. “I admire the cut of your jib.” Percy looked on, unimpressed. “Little nautical reference for you,” Hades responded, before nodding his head a few times as his smile slipped away. “I see you.”

“Where is she?” Percy asked quickly, beginning to frown. He was not in the mood for any more godly trickery. He had been through far too much. 

“Right. Okey-doke. Let’s get to it. Your aunt’s just over here.” Hades jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, then turned and began to walk in that direction. Percy and Grover glanced at each other, frowning in confusion. No way it could be that easy. 

“You’ve come all this way, don’t be shy,” Hades called back. Percy and Grover were still for a moment more before quickly following after the God of the Underworld. He had already made substantial ground ahead of them. 

They rounded a corner and he led them to a sitting room-type set up. On the side, by a set of brown leather couches, a golden statue stood of… Sally Jackson. She was reaching out, frozen in gold. You felt a certain kinship with her at that moment. 

“Aunt Sally?” Percy looked on incredulously, moving haltingly through the threshold as Hades fiddled with a blue throw. “What did you do to her?” Percy asked, accusation heavy in his tone. Hades dropped the folded blanket onto one of the couches and turned to Percy. 

“Uh,” he scoffed, “saved her life?” He gestured at the statue, as if it was not obvious enough already what he had done. “You know, typically, getting crushed by a Minotaur is a terminal diagnosis.” 

Percy stared at the statue, at the way her arm was still reaching out, telling him to run. His Aunt Sally, the closest thing to a mother he had ever had… 

“I snagged her for ya, just in the “ta-da” nick of time,” Hades smiled, “so that you would come see me. And here we are.” The God of the Underworld seemed so… pleased to see them, as if he had been waiting for this moment. “You give me what you got, and I’m giving you what I got.” 

“I… I can’t give it to you.” Percy didn’t take his eyes off his Aunt Sally, but a heaviness suddenly filled his chest. Of course, Hades would want the bolt in exchange for Aunt Sally. But he couldn’t… he just couldn’t. 

“Ah, see, there’s a quid and a quo here.”

“The bolt doesn’t belong to you.” Hades paused, his eyes flitting away in confusion. “Your plan almost worked. You and Ares managed to steal the bolt, trick me into bringing it right down and giving it to you. But it’s wrong, and I won’t do it. So all I can do is ask you to do the right thing, too. Please… let my aunt go.” 

Hades was silent for a moment, watching Percy, before he shook his head and frowned in confusion. 

“Huh?” He looked completely lost. 

“What?” Percy asked in return, now feeling confused at the god’s confusion. 

“Who… who tricked Ares into doing what?” Hades asked, squinting his eyes a little more. 

“You’re in cahoots with Ares, to secure the bolt,” Grover supplied, looking at Hades with a sort of ‘duh’ expression. 

“I’m not in cahoots with Ares,” Hades replied, “I seldom ‘cahoot’. The bolt is my brothers’ drama, I don’t want any part of it.” Hades fluttered his hand in the air, as if physically brushing away the idea that he would be interested in any of that. 

“You don’t want it?” Percy asked, frowning as he stared at Hades. 

“No.”

“Then what do you want?” Percy asked, holding his hands up a little. Hades looked between the two boys as if there were two village idiots standing before him. 

“My helm!” He exclaimed. 

“Your what?” Percy asked, frowning once more. 

“My Helm of Darkness. It went missing just days before someone,” he pointed at Percy, “used it to turn invisible and steal the bolt. I’d like it back now, please, and then you get your aunt back.” He gestured with both his hands from the statue to Percy, then stood there, waiting for them to hand back what was rightfully his. 

“You really don’t want the bolt?” Percy asked, leaning forward a little as if he couldn’t quite believe the conversation he was having. 

“Why would I want that?” Hades asked, sighing exasperatedly. 

“To start a war between your brothers,” Grover supplied, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why would I want that?” Hades repeated, staring at Grover.

“Jealousy!” Grover replied, glancing away as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain this to the person that was surely responsible. 

“I don’t know if you noticed,” Hades began sarcastically, “but it’s all candy canes and rainbows down here. I’m managing just fine.” Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. “I don’t really do jealous.” 

Percy began to think, staring at a spot on the floor as his mind slowly began to turn. “My brothers, on the other hand, have the market cornered on jealous.” Hades huffed. “Family drama is why I don’t go up there anymore. These grudges, they go on forever. Super unhealthy. Someone stole Zeus’s bolt, it wasn’t me, it must have been somebody who was…”

“Kronos,” Percy burst out. Hades twitched his head forward, fixing his eyes on Percy. 

“Excuse me?” 

“He’s got the longest grudge of them all. Zeus took Kronos’s throne. Who else has a bigger reason to weaken Zeus and take his throne back?” Percy told them, feeling the wheels in his brain begin to speed. Hades nodded his head a little, but sighed, glancing away from Percy. 

“Kronos is in a million pieces at the bottom of…”

“Tartarus,” Percy interjected, “where something just tried to pull us into it the moment the bolt appeared in our bag.” Hades glanced the boy up and down. “Tartarus…” Percy repeated, thinking aloud. “Where I’ve been hearing a voice from in my dreams, telling me it needs my help to take down Olympus.” Percy walked closer to Hades, but the God of the Underworld simply stayed quiet, listening to the boy with an unbothered (if slightly exasperated) expression. “I assumed that was you, but that voice I heard… that definitely did not sound like you.”

Hades took a deep breath and sighed, blinking slowly as he looked away from the boys. He shifted a little, looked this way and that, before returning his gaze to the pair with his eyes set. 

“Ask me for sanctuary.” He said it so simply. 

“What?”

“If Kronos is somehow planning to emerge from his exile, and you were his first call… you’re not safe. Ask me, and I’ll protect you. You and your aunt,” Hades glanced back at Sally as he spoke. “And the goat,” he gestured to Grover carelessly with his hand. “I'll throw him in, on the house.” You would have kissed Hades for the offer. He would protect your son. He would do it. It was all you could hope for. But… but it would not be free. And knowing Percy over the time of your imprisonment… you knew he would not take it. 

“This works out nice for you as it turns out. All it’ll cost you is the bolt,” Hades offered nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the simplest of bargains. 

“I thought you didn’t want the bolt?” Grover asked quickly. 

“I don’t want the bolt. Now, I need the bolt. If war with Kronos is coming, I’d like to be prepared,” Hades told them. “Not messing around here, kid. This only ends one way. The only question is how difficult you make it.” Hades shifted on his feet, moving a little closer to Percy. 

Percy looked away, settling his gaze on Sally. He ran his eyes over the smooth gold, the grooves of her hair and clothes, then subtly shook his head. 

“No.” Hades had had enough. He stepped forward. 

“Give me the bag.” He began reaching out for it but Percy pulled the pearl the Nereid had given him out of his pocket and held it up threateningly in the air. “Nice pearl,” Hades bit out sarcastically, glancing between it and the boy. 

“I accept your offer,” Percy spoke quickly. 

“Great!” Hades shook his head, confused why the boy was still threatening to disappear.

“Your first offer. We’re gonna go get your helm. And when I get back, you’re gonna let my aunt go.”

“Okay. Hang on, kid,” Hades moved forward once more, holding out his hands. 

“Grover, now!” Percy yelled, and watched Grover throw the pearl at his feet and fall into a flash of light. 

“WAIT!” Hades yelled, holding his hands up in surrender. Percy paused, his hand almost moving down to smash the pearl at his feet. “Wait, wait, just a minute.” After they took a few deep breaths each, Hades looked at Percy with a hint of more gentleness than before. “How’s your mother?” Percy stood up a little straighter in shock. 

“My mother?” He frowned, bringing the hand with the pearl down a little.

“Yeah, your mother, kid. How’s she doing? I haven’t- I haven’t seen her in… actual eons. I’ve had no news about that side of the world so like, yeah, how’s she doing?” 

“You… you know my mother?” Percy asked softly, clenching the pearl a little tighter in his hand as he gazed at Hades. 

“Uh, yeah, kid, you’re my nephew, technically speaking, so I did know your mother, yes. How is she? I would’ve thought she would be all over you… I’m a bit surprised actually, seeing you do all this demigod work on your own…” Hades frowned and stared at Percy a little hard. “Why are you disguised as a demigod? I guess that would make it easier to steal the bolt, but your mother never seemed like the type to exact revenge… and she would never let you do this alone…” Hades began to mumble in thought, his frown deepening as his gaze on Percy became unfocused. 

“Uh, yeah, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know how my mother is doing, I dont… I don’t even know who she is. My Aunt Sally raised me,” and he pointed at the statue behind Hades, raising his eyebrows as he gave the god an odd look. Hades stared at him, and the two stood still for a minute. 

“What… what do you actually know about your parents, kid?” Hades asked, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Not a lot,” Percy shrugged, “I know Poseidon’s my dad now, I guess. But Aunt Sally never really told me anything about my mom except that she loved me and couldn’t raise me. Funny, loving me then abandoning me,” he mumbled sarcastically, huffing as he returned his gaze to Hades. “Why?” The God of the Underworld sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead, rubbing at his brow before standing up straighter again and gesturing to the couches. 

“Have a seat, kid, this is going to be a long story.”

“No way, I’m not sitting down,” and Percy raised the pearl threateningly again. 

“Ok! Ok! Don’t sit, I don’t care, I’m gonna sit down, though,” and Hades moved to the couch and sat down facing Percy. “Can’t imagine how this duty has fallen to me,” Hades grumbled. Percy watched him carefully, wondering where in the world this was going. 

“A long time ago, like before the modern world long ago- wait, hold on a minute, how much do you know about Norse mythology?” “Norse mythology? I don’t know, not a lot. They have the guy Odin, and Thor and that tree of worlds or something.”

“Oh Olympus, ok, well, a long time ago, the Norse and Greek gods were at war for the world. There was fighting all over, random things, random places, but finally, Zeus and Odin met and created a peace treaty. It was far better for both worlds to interact peacefully, to give benefit to each other rather than destroy the world they were both inhabiting. As a gesture of goodwill, one of the few Zeus has ever bothered with by the way, he invited the Norse gods to Olympus. All of us were forced to attend, even yours truly, and your father too-”

“Is this story going somewhere? I have things to go do,” Percy hurried, but the god of the underworld just scoffed and glared at him. 

“Can you just let me finish? I’m helping you!” 

“Ok, ok, fine, sorry, keep going,” Percy raised his hands in surrender and quietened. 

“Odin had a bunch of kids, but his youngest was a daughter. She was his most precious child, a goddess of love and war. Her name was Y/n.” Hades sighed wistfully as he thought of you, lovely and sweet you entering the throne room in Grecian garb, a hopeful and innocent little smile on your face, gazing in wonder at this new world that had been unlocked for you. You were such a curious little goddess. “And Poseidon instantly fell in love with her.” 

Percy raised his eyebrows, his limbs loosening as he became enraptured in the story. 

“Poseidon was… mad for her. Any past flings with Nereids or humans were completely forgotten at the sight of her. He was enamoured. Even after the Norse gods left that day, he would go meet with her somewhere in the world. He spent so much of his time with her… They had a bond like no other. A love like no other. If it was even a fraction of the love between Persephone and I… well, you get the gist. They were crazy about each other. 

“One day, Hermes had invited her back to watch a performance by the muses. She and Hermes had become friends, but between you and me, I think he was kind of into her. Anyway, she was on Mount Olympus when Zeus’s lightning bolt was stolen. Ares accused her of stealing the bolt, and she was banished and thrown off the mountain.”

“Wait. Are you saying… are you saying my mother stole the lightning bolt?!” 

“Well, that’s what Zeus claimed. Personally, not a fan of that theory. It was too convenient, and having known her, she would never bother with something like that. She had no interest in petty squabbles for power.

Anyway, Zeus threw her off Olympus and threatened to attack the Norse gods with all his power if the lightning bolt wasn’t returned to him. It was like, almost two days later or something that Hermes found the bolt. Back then Zeus was a little careless with his power, it was highly possible he probably just forgot the bolt somewhere on one of his little trips down from Olympus. But the damage was done. All peace had been broken and war was threatened once more. In the nick of time, Odin came to Zeus and brokered another peace, but this time both kings vowed there would never be contact between either of their worlds ever again. The Aesir would stay where they were, the gods in Olympus, and everyone would be better off for it.

But of course, Poseidon was raging. He was barred from seeing his one true love. He raged, he almost started a war with Zeus over it. He even isolated himself to the seas for a long time, refused to come up to Olympus, even when Zeus ordered him to. Slowly, as time passed though, he mellowed out a little, started coming back to Olympus. It wasn’t like him, to just let go of his anger, even if it was after a long time. I just assumed he found a way to see Y/n again, broke the rules here and there to spend time with her. Who wouldn’t? 

And then, about twelve years ago, it was like his anger had returned somewhat. He withdrew a little, came up to Olympus only when he had to, but mostly stuck to the seas. Funny how that coincides with the time you came into existence, isn’t it?” Hades raised an eyebrow, looking at Percy like he was waiting for him to get the message. 

“It makes sense that you’re her son. Poseidon hasn’t ever taken another lover since the banishment. No secret little forbidden children, nothing. It would make a lot of sense then, that she would be your mother, Percy. And it would make a lot of sense then, why they hid you as a demigod.”

“What… wait, do you mean I’m… not a demigod?” Percy swallowed, staring at Hades with a frown. 

“Do I need to say it slowly? Your mother is a goddess. Your father is a god. What would that make you?” Hades asked, exasperated as he gestured at Percy. 

“Are.. are you saying that I’m a god?!” Percy exclaimed, pointing at himself. 

“Bingo! Finally! Yes, Percy, you’re a god.”

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord, @turtleshavesoulmates, @wolfgirl294, @stanswifties, @mrsinclaire, @homanoid, @bellamysnatblida, @mooncleaver  @butterfly-skinnylegend @marvellover98, @kakorrhaphiphobia

[22ayla21]

When an argument turns into something more

Another argument between them revealed their feelings for each other.

The quarrels between Divus and the new teacher had become something of a tradition at Night Raven College. No one was surprised anymore when their squabbles could be heard from the staff room - the students even made bets on who would win the next verbal duel.

But today's was especially tense.

- Admit already that your method is just a way of asserting yourself! - she threw, putting her hands on her hips.

- And you think that your method is better? Allowing them to behave as they want and call it a learning process?! - Crewel crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes flashing.

- Yes, because it WORKS! - there was anger in her voice.

- This is not learning, it's a farce!

She clenched her fists, feeling rage boiling inside. This man irritated her like no one else had before!

And in order to silence him, she did the only thing that came to her mind. She grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him.

Divus froze.

He was used to being in control of the situation when it came to sex, making the first move. And here he was literally shut up by a kiss.

He blinked, feeling her lips warm, demanding, yet soft. But if she thought he would stay away…

He pulled her closer sharply, responding in kind. His kiss was different – not just stubborn, but dominant. He felt her tense up for a second, but then she gave in, intertwining her fingers on the back of his head.

The books on the table flew to the floor. Her hair was disheveled, her suit now looked sloppy.

When they finally pulled away, breathing heavily, Crewel looked at her defiantly.

- Who wins our arguments now? - he asked, his voice hoarse.

- It's a draw for now, - she smirked, running her finger over his lips.

Just then the door to the teachers' room swung open.

- Crewel, you promised to look at the report... - Professor Trein froze, not finishing. Vargas stood behind him, who was also taken aback at first, and then grinned widely.

The picture before them was... eloquent.

Divus, sitting on the table, with lipstick marks all over his face. The new teacher with disheveled hair and an unevenly buttoned suit.

Trein rubbed the bridge of his nose.

- I won't even ask.

- Well, I am asking, - Vargas chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. - Is this a new kind of professional conflict?

Divus rubbed his temples, sighing heavily.

- Go away.

- Oh, no, we'll enjoy this moment, - Vargas drawled. The new teacher simply smirked, not feeling an ounce of shame.

- Knock next time, gentlemen.

Trein sighed heavily.

- Next time, at least don't let it be in the teachers' lounge.

And he left, dragging Vargas, who was still giggling, with him.

When the door closed behind them, Divus turned to her again.

- You'll pay me for this, - he grumbled. She grinned, reaching for another kiss.

- I can't wait.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO (see full series list here)

EPILOGUE

Summer, 2017

Sunlight streams in through the windows of your home, gently warming the skin of your arm as you wait for the kettle to boil. Sounds of laughter and chatting floats through the air from the garden through the open window. 

You catch your reflection in the window. The roots of your hair are grey and your forehead is wrinkled. It’s no secret that you’ve faced more than enough hardships in life, and it shows in the faint bags beneath your eyes and the wrinkles in your hands. 

But you’ve also had a lifetime of happy memories. It’s obvious from the smile lines around your mouth and the rosiness of your cheeks.

On the wall is a frame full of new photos. Tonks and Remus’s son, Teddy, when he was just a newborn baby. You find it hard to believe he’s nineteen this year. Another, of you and Minerva standing proudly beside Hermione on her graduation day from Hogwarts. She was the only one to go back to school after the war, while Harry and Ron went on to start their Auror training. You were so unbelievably proud of her that day. 

Photos of all your favourite grandkids that aren’t technically your grandkids: Albus, James, and Lily Potter, and Rose and Hugo Weasley. Albus and Rose are starting at Hogwarts together in September, while James is going into third year. Lily and Hugo are only nine. 

There’s a picture of you cuddling up to Dubh, too. You miss your little best friend more and more every day. She was with you from the day she was a tiny kitten to when she passed away. 

A burst of laughter from the garden brings you back to the task at hand, and you fill up mugs of tea before carefully carrying them outside. At the table, Sirius is mid-story, leaning forward conspiratorially as your aforementioned ‘grandkids’ listen intently. 

“ — and I remember it like it was yesterday. I said, ‘you can do better than that!’, and I barely even had time to think before Bellatrix had said the spell and this big bright flash of light was coming towards me. I thought I was going to die at that moment, I really did. But then I was miraculously saved by someone else — a certain woman had stunned me and threw me across the room, nearly broke all my bones, not sure which would’ve been worse —”

“Oh, stop,” you say with an eye roll, setting cups down in front of your guests. “You deserved a few broken bones for being that stupid.”

You sit down beside Sirius and he laughs, patting your knee with good humour. 

“Yeah, you’d be right about that,” he agrees, nodding. You raise your eyebrows and he grins. “Come on, don’t give me that look, I’m telling them all the best stories about you. It is your birthday, after all.”

You hum, shaking your head in amusement. “I won’t complain.”

“Did you break any bones, Sirius?” James asks curiously, and you snort. 

“No, he didn’t,” you answer with a laugh. “He landed in a pile of sand and was perfectly fine.”

Remus smiles. “Forever dramatic.”

Life has been good, you would say. After the war, you stepped down from teaching and spent some much needed time with Sirius at home, catching up on all the years you were apart. You miss being at Hogwarts and teaching, but you’ve found other ways to keep yourself busy. You campaigned to improve the conditions prisoners have to live in at Azkaban, because you don’t want anyone else to have to suffer as much as Sirius did in there, no matter what they’ve done. They don’t use Dementors there anymore either, and instead have actual prison guards working there. 

You and Sirius babysit the kids when their parents are busy, and of course you spend half the evening of most days looking through your telescope. At the beginning of every month you write an article for The Quibbler about what to expect in the night sky, which Xenophilius Lovegood publishes with delight. 

Minerva has gone on to be the headmistress of Hogwarts, and you’re glad to say you’re still the best of friends. You receive near-weekly letters about what’s been going on and all the kids she has had to reprimand or fights she has had to break up. 

Since Teddy has finished school, Remus has gone back to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts again. He returns home to his family at the weekend, often coming to yours for a visit. Tonks is still an Auror, and has even moved on to taking trainees under her wing just like Moody did for you. 

Hermione works at the Ministry now, and has even been hinted at as the next Minister of Magic in a few years’ time.  

Even Neville Longbottom went back to Hogwarts! He’s now the Herbology professor there. Alice and Frank are still in St. Mungo’s, but there’s recently been a surge in funded research for long-term victims of the Cruciatus Curse and you’re holding out hope that something will work for them. 

Ginny went on to become a professional Quidditch player for the Holyhead Harpies. You and Sirius went to every one of her matches before she retired and became the sports correspondent for the Daily Prophet. 

As Sirius continues his endless supply of stories about you, and the sun starts to set on the horizon, you feel blissfully at peace, surrounded by all the people you love most in the world. You wouldn’t change a thing. 

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→ all kinds of interaction greatly appreciated! ♡

The end! I just want to take a minute to give the biggest thank yous out to everyone who stopped to read this, and for all the incredible support and kindness I've received. When I posted this fic for the first time, I was genuinely shocked at the overwhelming kindness and all the lovely things people had to say about my work. Everyone has been so patient and understanding. I might sound like a broken record but every single nice comment absolutely made my day and couldn't make me happier. Ultimately, this was a story about love. Of course, the love the reader has for Sirius, but also what she has for everyone else in her life. I wanted to write a story that doesn't just solely focus on the main pairing, but also takes time to show the other strong relationships in her life and how good friendships and support systems can make even the hardest times better. It's taken me over a year to finish this story, which is crazy because it was only 32 chapters long...but I am really proud of it and am so happy I posted it. From the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you! I love you all.

The biggest kisses to my taglist loves for keeping up with this story and for all the love they've sent my way!

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @navs-bhat

@hyperspeedo @idkman5335 @elanna-elrondiel @murielisacertifieddilf @penelopied @imgondeletedis @wooyoungsrightsock @jennifer0305 @wolfdragon0424 @lovemesomevesey @aylinnmaslow @boiolay @daydreamsgonerogue @gonnaneedabiggerfloat @maryandthemultiverseoffandoms

[thechthonicherbalist]

🙥 I really wanna grow my Hair back out 🙧

After I'm done with chemo, I really want to grow my hair long again. Since I started it, my hair has thinned quite a bit & it has made me think. I get an IV treatment for stomach and intestinal cancer, ulcers and inflammations that doesn't attack the hair follicles "as much", according to doctors... reality is quite different. 😂😭

Being a genderqueer transman, it's often not easy to find ways to express myself; to exist in ways that allow me both to feel like myself and low on dysphoria, but at the same time are low maintenance and practicable in a life with disability and severe illness, in a conservative and Christian environment. Even more so if I want to add aspects of cultural expression since my family is not Christian...

I want to share this picture of myself from 2022. It's very meaningful in regards to all this to me.

Back then I was still doing much better than nowadays. Homebound, but often going out with helpers and visiting places. It was a year after my grandmother had died and I was wearing a dikhlo headscarf for the first time in the fashion she used to do it. It's part of Romani culture. Traditionally only married women would wear it. In modern times, it's often casually worn to reclaim our culture by women of any status as well as queer individuals.

My mom put it on for me back then, in the way my grandma used to wear, not in the traditional way where the fabric covers the back of the head, but wound around it, to allow the hair to look out and show. She loved to do this, to show off her curls or elaborate braids she would make when she was younger. Naturally both she and I have also worn it in the traditional way with more traditional fabrics and patterns. :3

For me it was a very emotional experience to do this for the first time, after I had started to wear my hair short, to help me pass as male, because it was an euphoric feeling of achieving this and still being able to combine it with an effeminate part of my culture, hence being able to express myself as an effeminate or GNC man, which aligns deeply with how I feel about myself, but due to being trans is often reason why I'm perceived as "simply a woman". As well as doing something that connects me to a beloved, passed (albeit at times certainly difficult 😂) family member. And... fitting in, when all my family has much darker, tighter curled hair than I, with my weird red head. 🥲

The downside of this is that the curls that run in my family are widely cut out like this as well and while you can still see them here, I miss them. And there's also the little fact that I just love men with long hair. I want to be a man with long hair too. It's one of the reasons why I love Lestat and the other vampires from Anne Rice's books so much... So I might grow my hair back long, as long as it gets and then maybe when I get sick of it or people treat me too womenly, cut it back off again.

[respectfulrebel]

Awww we got a birthday episode 🎁 I looove

Listen, even if all smut scenes were the same (which they are not!) I could never get enough of those two so keep going lol Sometimes I just remember that they are not gonna end up together and keep wondering how you’re gonna do it cause HOW??? How is Ella gonna find a better guy than Noah? I can’t fathom that looool

"Okay. But if you change your mind and have other plans just te-" before you could finish your sentence he hung up. "Asshole." you mumbled under your breath.

Noah is so sick of this looool

"That means we can get wasted and don't worry about it. That boy will make sure you're sleeping in his bed tonight and he won't leave us behind. He'd go through every bar in this damn city to find you." Molly always had some smart comments on Noah.

Damn right he will

"Maybe you should treat yourself to a change for your birthday."

I literally thought “why would she? He gives her everything” and then you said that in the next line lol

You could say that all of you were very drunk when midnight rolled around. Stumbling around the dancefloor and laughing at the least funny things. When Clara stumbled on her feet and fell on her ass, Molly almost peed herself from laughing and you almost fell next to Clara when you were pulling her up.

They are such a mess lol I love that

"My name is Austin." he whispered in your ear and you immediately thought of Noah and how Austin's breath on your neck had the exact opposite effect than Noah's.

Ew, go away, Austin 😤

"Okay, give me." she made grabby hands towards you and you opened Noah's contact in your phone.

I loved the whole Molly and Matt thing 🤭 she’s so into him, it’s cute

"No, not the Swede! The other one." she looked desperate from Noah not getting her point.

😂😂 that made me laugh

When you reached his upper thigh, he slid one of his hands under the table too and took your hand in his, sliding it down to his knee.

You put one of your legs over the other one and used your feet to slowly move up and down Noah's shin.

As a reaction he put his hand on your bare thigh and squeezed it. Before you could stop yourself you squeezed your thighs together and heard Noah chuckle next to you.

That whole interaction was so cute 🥺 Ella is so thirsty for him but he’s being responsible, I can’t 😭

"I want a hug." you reached out your arms and made putty lips.

Awwww 🥺🥺🥺

When you dropped her on her bed and Noah lifted her legs so she could lay down she mumbled "I know Molly doesn't like you Noah, but I do. You make her happy." before she cuddled her blanket and fell asleep.

🥺🥺🥺🥺 he makes her happyyyyy

"Stop it!" you pushed his hand away, "And admit that we are besties."

Ohh they are soo besties 🤭

"Are you asleep?" you whispered as you tiptoed in Noah's bedroom.

"No." he lifted his blanket so you could crawl under there with him.

So soft 🥺🥺🥺🥺

"No, it's only for special occasions." you snatched the picture out of his hand, but before you could sit back Noah took your wrist in his and kept you in place, close to him.

"And what occasion was this?"

"First picture."

🤭🤭 cuuuute

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and held him still, moving your hips against his flattened tongue (😇). He knew this was your favorite, so he let you ride his face.

Not the freaking liiink 😭😭😭😭😭

He crawled up to hover over you, leaning down to kiss you. You took his jaw in your hand and turned his face to the side so you could lick his chin, but he stopped you. "No need for that, I plan on giving you one more gift."

Damn this boy is insatiable 😮‍💨😮‍💨

"Fucking love this position so much." he said to himself before he pulled you down fully.

I bet he does 😏

"They better start working quickly or they'll have to walk all the way to the campus."

🤭🤭🤭🤭

the gifts he gives

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

reader has a name (Ella Thompson, but the story is written in 'your' POV)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / consumption of alcohol / oral f receiving / let me know if I missed anything

Words: 4,8k

Author's note: Don't know how I feel about this one, kinda feel like my smut scenes are very similar to each other even though I try to change it up a bit every time. But I hope you like it💕

frat boy Noah masterlist

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Hey, just calling to make sure you’re okay to pick us up tonight?” you ask when Noah picks up the phone.

“Yeah, I already told you.”

“I know, I’m just making sure that we’re not bothering you.”

“No you’re not.” you heard his sigh at the other side of the line, not because you’re bothering him, but because he told you at least 10 times that he doesn’t mind picking you and the girls tonight.

“Okay. But if you change your mind and have other plans just te-” before you could finish your sentence he hung up. “Asshole.” you mumbled under your breath.

“Is our birthday girl ready to have the best night of her life?” Molly put a shot of tequila in your hand.

It’s your birthday and they insisted on celebrating it with you. They even bought you a sparkly crown that says “birthday girl” so you’d get free drinks tonight, that’s what Clara said.

“Hell yeah.” you cheered and all of you downed your shots.

“Let’s go then!” Clara dragged you both out of your small dorm while Molly was already ordering an Uber for you.

---

“I wanna get laid tonight.” Molly said out of nowhere in the car and your eyes met the drivers eyes in the rearview mirror. Yep he heard it and was shocked just like you.

“Molly!” you whisper yelled at her with a finger pointed towards the driver.

“What? A girl has needs.” she shrugged her shoulders like if she was talking about the weather.

“Oh god, this is gonna be so interesting.” Clara said with a laugh.

The drive to the bar where you had a reservation for tonight was around 20 minutes which you spent putting your hand over Molly’s mouth, because that poor old man didn’t need to know when, how and with whom she had sex with. Clara was just giggling at you both and you asked yourself how it is possible to be the least tipsy when you’re the birthday girl.

“We’re here.” the driver said and you left the car, not sure who out of the two of you was more relieved.

---

The bar was full of people, some were dancing on the dancefloor in the corner and others were having a drink and a chat. You found your table and sat down. The first thing you did was to look at what drinks they serve, because you needed to match Molly’s tempo.

“Good evening ladies, what can I get for you?” a man in his late 30s came to get your orders with a warm smile. He laughed at Molly’s comment when she asked him to make sure there’s really a double vodka in her drink and left with your order.

“So, Noah is picking us up tonight right?” Clara asked you.

“Yes.”

“That means we can get wasted and don’t worry about it. That boy will make sure you’re sleeping in his bed tonight and he won’t leave us behind. He’d go through every bar in this damn city to find you.” Molly always had some smart comments on Noah.

“Shut up.” you flipped her off and looked around the bar.

There were different groups of people, smaller and bigger, younger and older. You looked at the bar where you saw three guys sitting on those high stools with beers in front of them. One was looking back at you and when your eyes met he waved at you. You just smiled at him and turned your attention back to your girls.

The bartender was back with your drinks and three shots on the house as a birthday present for you.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to!” you told him when he was leaving your table.

“So, my dearest friend Ella. We wish you the happiest of birthdays. We wish you that every one of your dreams comes true, that you’re happy and healthy. We love you Ella.” Clara finished her little speech for you and before you could say thank you, she raised her hand with one of the shots and said “To Ella!”

“Thank you, you two are the best.” you said between coughing after the shot of vodka, disgusting.

After a few sips of your drink you started to feel more tipsy and loose, laughing at whatever silly jokes Molly or Clara said. You continued your conversation about your drunk thoughts, laughing and taking pictures when the same bartender came with a single drink in his hand and slid it in front of you.

“But I didn’t order another one?” you were confused and pointed to your still half full glass.

“This one is for the birthday girl from a gentleman on the bar.” he winked at you and turned around.

All three of you turned to look at the bar and you saw the guy who waved at you earlier laughing at all of your reactions.

He mouthed “Happy birthday.” and you picked the drink from him and mouthed “Thank you.” back before taking a sip.

“He so wants to fuck you.” Molly stated.

“Not everyone is horny as you tonight Molly.” you shrugged your shoulders.

“He’s taking your clothes off of you with his eyes.”

“I didn’t come here to find a birthday fuck.”

“Maybe you should treat yourself to a change for your birthday.”

“If you’re that interested in my sex life, trust me that I don’t need a change from Noah.” you sent her an ironic smile.

You really didn’t feel the need to have sex with anyone else, not just out of respect for Noah, but because he was satisfying all of your needs, even the ones you didn’t know you had.

The night went on, you had more drinks and even went to dance when the DJ started playing your favorite songs.

You could say that all of you were very drunk when midnight rolled around. Stumbling around the dancefloor and laughing at the least funny things. When Clara stumbled on her feet and fell on her ass, Molly almost peed herself from laughing and you almost fell next to Clara when you were pulling her up.

“Okay I’m gonna grab some water.” you pushed Molly and Clara back towards your booth and went straight for the bar.

As you were waiting for the bartender to notice you, you felt a presence next to you. “Can I buy you another drink?” It was the guy from earlier.

“Hi.” you smiled at him. “No thank you, I think we’ll stick to water from now on.”

“Yeah I saw you on the dancefloor.” he laughed. “What’s your name?”

You took a minute to think if you’re going to tell him, but then thought why not. “Ella. Yours?”

Before he could tell you the bartender was asking for your order. When he handed you a pitcher of water and three glasses, two hands reached from behind you to help you.

“My name is Austin.” he whispered in your ear and you immediately thought of Noah and how Austin’s breath on your neck had the exact opposite effect than Noah’s.

“Thank you Austin.” you smiled at him when he put the glasses on your table.

“Maybe I could steal you for a moment? Have a chat?” he asked.

“You’re really nice Austin, but I’m not interested.” you saw the hurt and embarrassment on his face. You didn’t mean to hurt him, but you really were not interested.

He just waved to your friends and joined the rest of his group back at the bar.

“Poor guy, you should’ve given him a chance!” Molly groaned.

“You can have a chat with him, see if he wants to fuck tonight.” you bit back.

You pulled out your phone and saw no new messages from Noah. Your drunk mind couldn’t stop thinking about his breath on your neck, how it sends shivers through your body. Or when he kisses the sensitive spot on your neck only he knows and suddenly you feel warm all over your body. Or when he puts his hands around your throat, squeezing it, but just the right amount of pressure to bring you pleasure, not pain.

“Earth to Ella!” Clara waved her hands in front of your eyes.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said you should text Noah to come and join us, if he’s driving us back we can buy him an alcohol free drink at least.”

“Oh I’m sure Molly wants nothing more than to spend her night in Noah’s presence.” you looked at her and saw her drunk eyes. Clara seemed to sober up a bit, but Molly was still way past being tipsy.

“Actually,” she lifted her pointer finger, “is he coming alone?”

“Who else would come?” you asked her, confused.

“Well, maybe, but just maybe, his friend could come too.” you exchanged looks with Clara and immediately knew where this was going.

“What friend Molly?”

“You know which one.” she refused to admit that she has a crush on Matt.

“We don’t.” Clara told her.

“I’m just saying, if Noah can bring him here I might hate him a little less.”

“Now that’s an offer!” you laughed at her. “You can call him and tell him yourself.” you teased her.

“Is that a challenge?”

“It sure is.”

“Okay, give me.” she made grabby hands towards you and you opened Noah’s contact in your phone.

She put it to her ear and waited for him to pick up. He’s going to kill you.

“Hello my friend.” she started talking. “We were just thinking about inviting you to hang out with us.”

She just smiled at you across the table.

“Oh stop lying, I can’t imagine better plans that drinks with us!” she said dramatically. “You know what if you’re scared of me maybe you could bring your friend to tag along. That one with long hair.”

You and Clara laughed at her, her pink cheeks visible even with the bar lights.

“No, not the Swede! The other one.” she looked desperate from Noah not getting her point.

“I just wanted to say that I’m gonna be much nicer to you if he comes with you. Bye!” she ended the phone call and handed your phone back to you.

“Well?” you aske.

“He laughed at me, jerk.”

“It was pretty funny.” Clara agreed.

“But is Matt coming with him or not?”

“I don’t fucking know, he didn’t tell me.” Molly crossed her arms over her chest and you prayed that Matt is coming too, otherwise Noah has his fate sealed.

“We’ll be there in 20.” your phone buzzed with a new message from Noah.

“So Matt is coming too?”

“Yep.”

“This is about to be so good.” you replied and put your phone away. You didn’t tell the girls, you wanted to see Molly’s face when she sees them walk in.

“I liked her hair better before.” you decided it was gossip time about your classmates now.

“Yeah, the black hair was m-” you didn’t get to finish your sentence, because Molly almost screamed “What the fuck?” and her eyes were full of shock.

You and Clara turned around to see Noah and Matt getting out of a black car.

“He’s really here. Oh my god that’s so embarrassing.” Molly scanned the bar to find a place where she could hide.

The two boys entered the bar and Noah’s eyes found you immediately. Matt followed him closely behind when Noah started walking.

“Hey.” Noah shifted weirdly on his feet, realizing just now how weird the situation is.

“Hi.” you said with a laugh and leaned a bit so you could see Matt, still standing behind Noah. “Hi Matt!” you waved at him.

“Hi.” he gave you a small smile and then his attention was on Molly.

“This is Clara and this is Molly.” you introduced him to your friends.

You shifted closer to Clara so Noah could sit next to you and Matt sat down next to Molly.

“What can we get you guys for coming to pick us up?” Clara asked and waved at the bartender.

Noah ordered still water and Matt a beer.

“Cat got your tongue Molly?” Noah teased your friend, enjoying the power he now had over her.

“No, I’m just tired.” she lied.

She must’ve really liked Matt, because she was never this shy around boys. But Matt was smiling at her and trying to make conversation with her.

“He might have told me he likes her too on the way here.” Noah leaned down and whispered in your ear. You got lost in the feeling of his breath on your ear, feeling exactly what you did not feel when Austin did the same.

“Oh, that’s gonna be interesting.” you whispered back and looked up at Noah.

The conversation soon became less awkward, Matt started talking about his part time job he has along college which got both Molly and Clara interested.

But you couldn’t focus on what was being said when Noah’s knee was touching yours under the table and his arm was touching yours.

It seemed like you two were having your own conversation, nonverbal.

You put your hand on his thigh while nodding along to something Matt was saying. He didn’t push it away, so you continued moving it higher and higher, waiting when he’s going to stop you.

When you reached his upper thigh, he slid one of his hands under the table too and took your hand in his, sliding it down to his knee.

You put one of your legs over the other one and used your feet to slowly move up and down Noah’s shin. 

As a reaction he put his hand on your bare thigh and squeezed it. Before you could stop yourself you squeezed your thighs together and heard Noah chuckle next to you.

You finished your drink and saw Clara almost sleeping on your left. Molly and Matt were in their own bubble and your head was spinning so much you just wanted to lay in bed.

“Can we leave?” you turned to ask Noah who was looking at you with soft eyes, as he always does. You laid your head on his shoulder and mumbled “Clara is asleep and these two can find their own way home, Molly wanted to get laid anyway.”

Noah laughed at your drunk words and looked behind you to see Clara’s head against the white wall, eyes closed and mouth opened.

“Yeah let’s go.” Noah helped you and Clara out of the booth and made sure that Matt is okay with you leaving. He had absolutely no problem with that, as expected.

You carried yours and Clara’s bags as Noah helped Clara walk to his car.

“Clara I swear if you throw up in here you’re gonna pay for it.” Noah said before closing her door and turning around to find you still standing on the street. “Why are you not in the car yet?”

“I want a hug.” you reached out your arms and made putty lips.

“A hug?” when Noah didn’t move towards you, you skipped the space between you and buried your head in his chest. It took him a while to wrap his arms around you, but when he did you felt safe and warm.

“Thank you for picking us up.” your words got lost in his t-shirt, but he heard you.

“Come on, let’s get you two alcoholics home.” you smacked his chest but let him help you in the passenger seat.

---

Your first stop was the campus to get Clara home. When you reached the parking lot she was snoring in the back seat. You had to help Noah this time as you two walked her to your dorm. When you dropped her on her bed and Noah lifted her legs so she could lay down she mumbled “I know Molly doesn’t like you Noah, but I do. You make her happy.” before she cuddled her blanket and fell asleep.

Noah looked up at you and you didn’t know how to react, you definitely didn’t want him to think too much of it.

He didn’t say anything, but he had a small mischievous smile on his face as you made your way back to his car.

When he pulled out of the parking lot he couldn’t help bringing it up.

“I make you happy huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” you playfully pushed his shoulder, “But yeah? I guess? I never had someone like you in my life. You’re my friend and I can always count on you. Also you’re not really just a friend. I don’t know, I just never thought I could do something like this without being in a relationship, but I like what we have. You’re my bestie.”

“You’re so drunk.” he used his hand to tickle the skin of your thigh.

“Stop it!” you pushed his hand away, “And admit that we are besties.”

“No.” he just really didn’t want to say bestie out loud, but he knew you were right.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm the spinning in your head when you heard Noah say “You make me happy too, maybe.”

You didn’t say anything, just squeezed his hand and smiled to yourself.

—

“I need to drink like a gallon of water.” you took your shoes off and made your way to Noah’s kitchen. You grabbed a glass and filled it with water and then reached into the cabinet under the sink where he had his snacks. Your drunk body craved something salty, so you grabbed a bag of chips and sat on the counter.

“Oh yeah, make yourself at home.” Noah said ironically when he saw you and threw a box of painkillers at you.

“Thank you.” you said with full mouth.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” and with that Noah left you alone in the kitchen.

You reached for your phone to see new messages from Molly in your group chat.

“I’m definitely getting laid tonight.”

“Help he’s so hot.”

“HE ASKED ME ON A DATE!!!!”

You laughed at the messages, but you were happy that Molly was happy.

Before you wrote a reply Noah was back, only in his black underwear.

“Oh, hi.” you jumped off the counter and made your way over to him.

“Hey.” he noticed that you were touchy more than usual tonight and he enjoyed it.

You placed your hands on his chest and your eyes followed the few water drops that slid from his hair. You leaned into him, placing soft kisses on his neck. You always like it when he had his hair washed, that messy and wet look making him even more sexy.

He let you cover his neck with kisses, enjoying when you sucked at his pulse point longer.

Your hands traced his tummy and then the waistband of his underwear.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” Noah took your hands before they could reach under the thin fabric and led you into his bathroom.

The room was still hot and the big mirror was covered with steam from Noah’s shower.

“Can I have a birthday wish?” you asked Noah as you started removing your makeup.

“Sure.”

“Will you take a shower with me?”

“I just took a shower Ella.” he stated the obvious.

“Yeah, but this would be a fun shower.”

“What the hell is a fun shower?”

“That’s when you have sex in the shower.” he laughed at your explanation, having the time of his life when you said your drunk thoughts out loud.

“I’m not having sex with you tonight, are you crazy?”

“What?” you asked with a pout.

“Ella, you’re drunk like an old man.” he booped your nose.

“I’m not! Look, I can walk straight.” you tried to walk straight on the line on Noah's floor, failing with the second step.

“Yep. So I’ll wait for you in bed.” he left you standing with a pout and jumped in his comfy bed.

—

“Are you asleep?” you whispered as you tiptoed in Noah’s bedroom.

“No.��� he lifted his blanket so you could crawl under there with him.

When you stopped moving around and found a comfortable position Noah spoke again.

“Happy birthday Ella.” his words tickled you on the back of your neck.

“Thank you Noah, you’re the best.”

“I’ll give you your presents tomorrow.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” you groaned, “In fact you promised to not get me anything!”

“I crossed my fingers behind my back when I said that.”

“Noah!” you elbowed him in the stomach and then you both laughed.

Of course he got you a present, it’s Noah.

—

In the morning you were woken up by the sun tracing your skin. Your late night dinner and painkillers seemed to do their job and you didn’t feel any signs of hangover.

You turned around to see Noah’s back, the blanket was covering his body only to his lower back.

You started tracing your fingers over the ink on his back, your fingers moving up and down with his body as he was still breathing calmly.

It took a few more minutes before Noah woke up and turned on his other side to face you.

“Morning, how are you feeling?” he asked you, expecting you to have the worst hangover. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned.

“Good morning. I feel absolutely fine.”

“So you’re ready for your presents?”

“I don’t want presents Noah, you didn’t have to.”

He got up and left the bedroom. When he came back he had a small gift bag in his hand.

“Happy birthday.” his voice was still a bit deeper than his usual voice, the sleep still evident there.

“Thank you.” you whispered and opened the little bag. “Are you fucking kidding me? Noah!”

You threw a pillow at him. He got you a fucking polaroid camera that you told him about a few months ago. A pink one.

“What? You wanted it!” Noah caught the pillow and sat back on the bed.

“I did, thank you.” you smiled at the box in front of you. He also got you two packs of films.

You reached for one of them, opened the box and put it inside the camera. You turned the camera on and before he could protest, you lifted it and took a picture of him.

“Ella!”

“I had to see if it works!”

You took the paper out and started shaking it. Soon Noah’s sleepy face appeared on it and you were about to put it back in the paper bag.

“Show me.” he yanked it out of your hand.

“Hey! That’s mine!” you got on your knees and reached for it.

“Let me take one.”

“No, it’s only for special occasions.” you snatched the picture out of his hand, but before you could sit back Noah took your wrist in his and kept you in place, close to him.

“And what occasion was this?”

“First picture.”

“Mhm.” something in Noah’s eyes changed and he leaned down to bite your jaw. Soon his teeth were replaced with wet soft kisses to soothe your skin.

“And what occasion is this?” you whispered.

“Your second present.” he laid you both down, you under him and in seconds his lips were all over your neck.

“Noah.” you moaned his name and the picture was forgotten.

He didn’t waste any time with taking your t-shirt off, he went straight to your panties and slid them down your legs.

He was always a tease, so when he dived straight in your pussy you let out a surprised moan.

“Fuck!” you moaned again, feeling his tongue everywhere. He was quick with his licks, shaking his head from side to side. When he pushed his tongue into you he groaned against you, those vibrations sending wave of pleasure to your clit.

“Fuck Noah.” he didn’t slow down, his pace still quick. Licking you from bottom to the top and occasionally slipping his tongue inside. His rushed and quicked motions bringing you the sweet feeling of orgasm.

You tried to calm your breathing, not expecting this quick and strong orgasm this early in the morning.

Noah planted a few kisses on your thighs, tracing his fingers on the curve of your ass and gave you no warning before he started sucking on your clit again.

Your reaction was to lift your hips, your clit still sensitive from Noah’s touch.

His arm slipped around your waist to hold you down, smirking against your pussy when he heard your moans again as the oversensitives changed to pleasure again.

He couldn’t hold his moans in when his tongue slid in much easier this time, your wetness slowly covering his chin. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and held him still, moving your hips against his flattened tongue (😇). He knew this was your favorite, so he let you ride his face.

“Come on, cum on my tongue baby.” he mumbled against your core, his words making you squeeze around nothing.

“Noah!” you moaned breathlessly. “That’s it.” he encouraged you and lifted his eyes as much as he could to see your face. Your eyes closed and your cheeks pink.

Your legs started to shake around his shoulders, he knew you were close. When the second orgasm hit you, your legs closed around Noah’s head and your back arched from his bed.

You sat straight and looked down at Noah still between your legs, his chin covered in you slick and he had his typical boyish smile on.

“That’s a third gift.” he chuckled when you fell back down on the mattress.

He crawled up to hover over you, leaning down to kiss you. You took his jaw in your hand and turned his face to the side so you could lick his chin, but he stopped you. “No need for that, I plan on giving you one more gift.”

He turned your bodies so you were straddling his lap, feeling his bulge, but when you reached your hand to touch him he stopped you again.

“Nah it’s your birthday. Come up here.” he made himself comfortable laying back and tugged at your thighs.

“Noah.” you said, not sure if you were comfortable sitting on his face in the daylight.

“Come on, I know you liked it the last time.” he smirked and was very sure you wanted it just as much as him.

You slowly moved yourself up his body, putting your knees next to his head carefully to not hurt him.

“Fucking love this position so much.” he said to himself before he pulled you down fully.

“Oh god.” his tongue was back inside you and you had to lean against the wall to not fall over.

You tried not to move your hips and enjoy the slow motions of his tongue, trying to prolong the pleasure he was giving you.

You looked down on him and saw his eyes closed, but his brows were furrowed, showing his concentration.

He switched between between sucking on your clit to fucking you with his tongue, or just exploring your lips, teasing you.

You almost lost it when he opened his eyes and looked up at you, holding eye contact with you.

Your head fell backwards, moans leaving your mouth uncontrollably and you felt him laugh against you at your reaction.

“Noah I’m close.” you tried to move your hips, ride his face, but his arms stopped you, he was determined to make you cum with his mouth only.

He pulled you down even more, you felt his tongue all over the place and the build of your third orgasm started forming inside you.

It was slow, your legs started to feel jiggly and you wanted it to finally snap.

You felt the tip of Noah’s nose touch your clit when his tongue slid into you, the last combination of movements that sent you over the edge.

He released your hips and let you ride through your orgasm on his face. He was smiling like an idiot under you.

You collapsed next to him, hands over your face as you tried to catch your breath.

“Happy birthday Ella.” Noah whispered into your ear and kissed your cheek. Then he stood up and started picking his outfit for the day.

“Wait, what about you?” you asked.

“I said it was your birthday. And I have to meet the guys in 30 minutes so you better get ready.”

“My legs are not working right now.”

“They better start working quickly or they’ll have to walk all the way to the campus.”

“I hate you. A girl can’t enjoy the post sex bliss, tragic.” you threw a pillow at him before getting up from his bed to get ready for the day too.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

Taglist: @lacy1986 @concretejunglefm @super-btstrash-posts @amelia-acero @justcarrie @koskeepsake @dominuslunae @ami--gami @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @chey-h @xmads-omensx @blade-dressed-in-red @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrscevans @blvckmvgicwoman @punkprincess1999 @fear-its-beauty @bloody-spades @n0n3xsisting @thenmaybehellaintsobadafterall @athenexe @tashka @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @concrtlimits @whatismylifexox @theanarchymuse95 @renegadebirch @theasowle @darknightstarryeyes

If you want to be on my taglist click here

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Annie Cresta: *is played by a woman with slightly wavy red hair*

Me: Give me this or give me death

[stravacious]

gary’s twin sister, nadine!!

i’m a sucker for the bonnie & neddy episode :’)

[flowerakatsuka]

my shimamatsu artbook came in so i finally got to see the rest of the unreleased teacher set...

scans of gym teacher oso from this set can be found here!

choro's a math teacher, which i feel like is pretty fitting for her. they drew her very cute, peak froggy expression.

ichi's a science teacher, like in teacher matsu merch by movic. he's also setting a bad example for his students by wearing open-toed shoes which is against standard lab safety rules, for shame smh.

jyushi is an art teacher! very cute, he's definitely fitting the bill of the zany art teacher stereotype.

totty's an english teacher. he's really meant it when he said he doesn't want to work bc he's giving us NOTHING in that awakened art. his outfits are very cute, though.

" gee, mj. where's kara? wasn't he the one you were the most curious about? " wELL. i waited to share him last bc...

when i tell you that i opened to this page in art book to find this set, saw kara, and then immediately closed the book...

he's a japanese / literature teacher, which i do think fits. ( still such a missed opportunity to have him as a music teacher... ) * puts my face in my hands * he's such a dork.

[saturnscherie]

༄ Junpei’s Phone Number

Yuji had just met Junpei and was already asking for his phone number so that Junpei could take him out to the movies the next time he went. He really just sat there and asked him to take him out on a movie date (platonic or romantic it doesn't matter to me). And their reaction when Junpei’s mom finds them doesn't help the atmosphere of the situation much either, lol.

I honestly believe that if Yuji wanted to ask for the number of his old classmate from middle school, he would have done so either from her or Nobara.

༄ (This isn’t meant to sound harsh, it’s just an observation. pls check the *tags* to see what I mean.)

[birdsareblooming]

why does a blonde-haired blue-eyed little girl named susie indicate fnaf?

please she's our one constant she's all we truly know