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kaciebello · 10 months ago

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Band-aids of death

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :( word count: 1347

Percy has been at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seemed like he was good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.

Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway.

After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy finally felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.

Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. However, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.

They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.

Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.

“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own.

“ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.

A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw.

“ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? Nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers.

“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him. Before he can answer she continues,

“Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”

“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is.

“ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders.

“ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”

“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”

“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen.

“ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly.

“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids.

“ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something.

“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl.

“ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?” Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.

“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks.

“ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple.

“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.”

“ Australia?”

“No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid.

“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him.

“You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,

“ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.

He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.

#luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy series

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strawberries-and-summer-days · 3 months ago

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READY FOR LAUNCH? ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

warnings: swearing and one mention of drinking wine

a/n: the dead returns 😌 WE WILL NOT TALK ABOUT HOW LONG THIS TOOK ME TO GET AROUND TO OKAY? LETS ALL COLLECTIVELY IGNORE IT. KAY GREAT WONDERFUL anyways enjoy! also gasp too parts in one night? woah

you were bribed.

lia and riley had to beg, stacey was pestering you for days. you were firm on no until you were bribed with lia's mom's famous cookies. and anyone who's ever had one would know that her cookies are to die for.

so now you're sitting next to the asshole in question, both staring at your managers. "another good reason to go along with this is, a publicity boost-" stacey says continuing on with the list she had prepared to convince you both.

"i don't need publicity," you and percy say at the same time. lauren and stacey both hide smiles and continue on.

you're about too seconds away from leaving but stacey's warning look has you sighing and staying in the seat. percy groans as the two managers start to ramble on about a soft or hard launch. neither sound appealing.

"why did i agree to this shit again?"

☾. ⋅

"you post the launch this afternoon okay?" stacey says looking up from her paperwork to you.

you sigh, "fine whatever." a cough erupts from the the other side of the room and you look up to percy curled up on the furtherest chair from you as if your being physically repulses him.

after the photos you took this morning and yesterday it seems warranted. i mean you had to hold hands. gross.

"you know you too will have to be more friendly with each other in public right?" lauren asks from her spot next to percy.

"i can be friendly."

"ok let me re-phrase that," lauren pauses. "you're going to have to act... couple-y."

"... i can still do that."

you scoff at percy's words. "yeah right, you looked like you were about to throw up when we were taking photos earlier."

percy glares. his eyes scanning your face while he clenches his jaw in thought. "fine," he huffs standing up and walking towards you.

you panic slightly. whats he doing? whats going on? you look to stacey for an answer but her eyes are trained firmly on percy seemingly asking the same question.

he stops when he reaches your chair and drops down to a crouch so you're at eye level. "um.. what are you doing?" you ask.

he leans forward slightly so you're only inches apart. his eyes travel across your face as if memorising every feature, they stray to your lips - and falter there - before they return to your eyes. trying to diffuse some of the tension you tilt your head down avoiding eye contact. but a finger on your chin guiding your eyes back to his, has your head tilting back up. "eyes on me sunshine."

you're pretty sure you just gasped. maybe. a little bit.

"what are you doing?" you ask again, your voice barely a whisper.

a smirk overtakes he face and he speak loud enough for stacey and lauren to hear. "proving i can act like your boyfriend in public." he drops your chin as if it burnt him to touch you and walks away to his chair.

your face is on fire. "yeah, uh." you clear your throat. "that'll do i guess."

☾. ⋅

percyjackson

liked by underovergrover, clarisse.la.rue, the.annabethchase, lia.mandel, rileywest, yn's.team, and 1, 849,426 others

percyjackson so.....

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user1 Y/N'S TEAM LIKED THIS!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!

user2 percy/n confirmed??

user6 PLS PLS PLS PLS

user3 i think i died a little omg

user4 omg a soft launch???

underovergrover congrats man

percyjackson thanks 😉

user5 someone become an fbi agent and tell me if thats y/n rn.

user6 PLEASE

user7 who is sheeeee???

☾. ⋅

yn.official

liked by underovergrover, lia.mandel, rileywest, pjackson.team, maisiehpeters, gracieabrams, the.annabethchase and 2, 748, 925 others

yn.official surprise!

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user1 HOLY SHIT!!!! THIS BASICALLY CONFIRMS IT

user2 SOFTLAUNCH SOFTLAUNCH SOFTLAUNCH!!!

user3 you cannot tell me that them posting a soft the same day one after each other means they're not together. i wont believe it.

lia.mandel ahhh congrats babes <333

yn.official 😘

user4 the teams like their posts??? percy/n is real!!!!

user5 IKK they couldn't have made it more obvious.

user6 ...i mean they could've hard launched?

user7 anyone else notice how their captions kinda line up? "so....." and "surprise!"

user8 delusion is strong with us today

rileywest happy for you !! 🤍

liked by yn.official

☾. ⋅

you look up from the thousands of comments on the post and over to the sleeping lumps on your couch. lia and riley decided to stay the night for moral support. we'll their idea of moral support is breaking out a bottle of wine and watching movies. they didn't even make it through the first one before they zoned out and fell asleep.

you sigh and glance down at the countless comments and likes on your post. the idea was to soft launch to get more suspense or 'attention' as lauren and stacey like to say.

it seemed simple enough except for actually getting the photos taken. that was a nightmare.

the next step is another post or two and then an outing. together. and then from there who knows.

let the games begin...

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it means i couldn't tag you]

@lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle,

@lara20aral, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus,

@avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, @user-3113s-blog, @officiallyalbino

@gloryhaddock, @kozumesphone, @moonlightwonderlan, @starxshining, @taintedrosee

@lovelyygirl8, @cleothefrogo, @sungjinwoomybeloved, @hearts4li,

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackon x y/n #percy x you #percy x reader #percy x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fic #fanfic #fanfiction #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆#percy and the popstar au

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prince-liest · 4 months ago

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Saw a post recently that rhetorically asked why authors and show writers leaving character sexuality up to interpretation is disappointing when fifteen years ago getting a statement that things were up to interpretation (as opposed to "Definitely NOT gay, you freaks!") was a blessing, and I make a point of never discoursing on the bird app, but wanted to share some thoughts on the subject here - particularly because Alastor is kind of a hot topic on this subject and I think he actually makes for a great example for my thoughts on this.

Honestly, as someone who did live through the "if you think my characters are gay then you're stupid and should die" era, I think it left me with the perspective that even if there is canon sexuality, then no matter what it is, you're free to then do whatever you want in fandom. People might call you a dick for it if you go about it in certain ways, but you're free to do it.

That said... that's not really what wanting canon confirmation is about. It's about having canon representation, especially for identities that we often don't see representation of. For example: Alastor being aromantic is "up for interpretation," and that specifically feels bad when it's explicitly been framed that way as a cop out to appease shippers (per Viv), especially when in canon you can see he's intended to be aroace based off of how Rosie talks about him.

Yes, things are better now than they were 15 years ago... but standards are higher now, too!

And in particular I think that while in 2008 or so, "It's up to interpretation!" basically meant "Yeah, they might be gay but I can't say it," nowadays the meaning has shifted. I see a lot of people chiming into any mention of aroace Alastor with this attitude of "Um, actually, he's NOT aromantic because it wasn't confirmed by Viv (even though he wasn't confirmed to NOT be aro either)," rather than the spirit of "Oh, yeah, he might be aro, that's a valid interpretation!" It actually feels very similar to seeing people go "Well, X is OBVIOUSLY straight (the default) because he wasn't confirmed to like men!"

...in 2008, haha.

Anyway, fandom always feels to me like a 'do whatever you want' zone, but I think just based off of the sheer volume and depth of genuine and heartfelt reactions people have had to Alastor as a character and his portrayal as aroace... having canon representation and seeing yourself in media you enjoy matters a great deal to many people.

I had a really emotional moment when I read my preorder of House of Hades from the Percy Jackson series back in middle school and realized that Nico di Angelo was an actual gay character in an actual real, physical book that I was holding in my hands, not "just" a headcanon from my nebulously safe online fandom spaces, for the first time ever. Similarly, people have been headcanoning various characters as ace for a long, long time, but to me it's never had the same punch to it as it being official when it comes to those kinds of feelings re: representation.

So leaving that kind of thing "up to interpretation" specifically as an alternative to providing representation to a group of people who rarely sees it is disappointing, but it's not for shipping reasons.

#personal #text posts #long post #meta #op meta #fandom #hazbin hotel #alastor #of course context also matters #“up to interpretation because I don't wanna make the shippers mad”#is worlds different from “they're queer because they wouldn't define themselves as a particular identity”#anyway that's my ponderings for the day #ll

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weasleysbliss · 26 days ago

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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 | 𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

pairing: ron weasley x fem!reader

summary: while spending the summer at the burrow, you and ron are forced to share a space. between playful bickering and quiet moments, you realize love might be closer than you thought.

word count: 2k

➽────────────────❥

At last, exams were over, school was done, and you couldn’t wait to start your summer break. But this summer wouldn’t be like the others.

Your parents were traveling abroad, leaving you home alone. However, they didn’t trust you to spend two months on your own, so they insisted you stay at one of your friends’ houses for the time being.

Ginny was kind enough to consider the idea and propose it to her mom. Thankfully, Molly Weasley was more than happy to take you in. She already had seven children of her own, so having her only daughter's friend stay for two months was no trouble.

A few hours before you moved in, your nerves started to settle. You were still processing the fact that you’d be spending two months with a group of people you barely knew—excluding the parents. Though you went to school together and were in the same house, you’d never really had the chance to befriend them—except for Ginny.

She helped you pack your belongings, and together, you both walked to the Burrow. On the way there, Ginny went over a few house rules, explained their usual routines, and warned you about Fred and George. The twins were known for their mischievous pranks, always causing trouble. Nonetheless, you felt ready for the next few months.

When you arrived at the doorstep, Ginny unlocked the front door with her wand, and you were greeted by Molly and Arthur. "Oh, Y/N dear, how wonderful to have you here!" Molly exclaimed, pulling you into a warm bear hug—a gesture you hadn’t received in a long time.

"Good to see you, Y/N!" Arthur greeted, extending his hand for a handshake, which you accepted. "Thank you so much for allowing me to stay, I really appreciate it." You said, while giving them a heartfelt smile. "Oh no worries dear, you're welcome here any time. We've heard so many great things about you from Ginny!" Molly cheered. You and Ginny locked eyes, sharing a sincere look of happiness.

As Arthur carried your bags to your new room, you saw four familiar faces coming down the stairs. "Y/N, I’m sure you already know who they are, but let me re-introduce you so you feel welcomed," Molly said, pointing to each boy in turn. "This is Percy, Fred, George, and Ron." "Bill and Charlie both moved out," she added, "which is why they aren’t here now."

All four boys offered you soft smiles, welcoming you for the summer. "Alright, boys, go on. Ron, stay," she ordered. Ron swallowed, assuming he’d done something wrong. Was he really going to get scolded in front of the new girl right now? But before he could worry too much, his mother’s next words cleared up the situation. "Ron, if you don’t mind, would you please help Y/N settle in? I left her belongings in your room; you’ll both share the space."

Ron’s eyes widened at the statement, and for a moment, yours did too. You had assumed you'd have your own room, and the idea of sharing one with someone you hadn’t spoken to yet left you feeling uneasy. It can't be that bad, you thought. You and Ron exchanged weak smiles when your names were mentioned.

At this point, Ginny went upstairs, and Molly and Arthur went to work in the garden, leaving you and Ron alone. An awkward silence hung in the air until he finally spoke. "Well... shall we start getting you settled?" he asked.

"Yep!" you replied, relieved that your journey here had officially begun.

Before leading you to your shared room, Ron briefly pointed out the main rooms in the house—such as the kitchen, bathroom, and other essential spaces. Finally, it was time to see the room, which you figured you’d be spending most of your time in anyway. As you both walked in, you took in the details.

The room was fairly small, with most of it scattered with spell books, Chudley Cannons posters, Quidditch gear, chess sets, and various family hand-me-downs. In the corner stood a bunk bed—the spot where the two of you would sleep. The room had a strong aura of warmth and coziness, a stark contrast to your own room, which had a sleek, modern vibe.

To your surprise, you actually liked his room. Despite the mess, it felt like home—though not your own home. This was a new home, one you would adapt to over time. "I know it's not much, but—" Ron started, but you cut him off. "No, I love it. This place is awesome. I reckon I’m going to like it here." You glanced around again, taking in every detail and piece of decoration. "Well, I’m glad you like it. I usually spend most of my time here anyway," Ron said. "Oh yeah? I would too, I might as well," you replied, making eye contact with him. "Y’know, you seem like you’d be a pretty decent roomie." His words made you blush slightly, but you quickly hid it. You were already beginning to appreciate his company.

A month had already gone by, and everything was going splendidly. You were familiar with the house now, knowing where every room was, and you had gotten along with everyone—especially your new roommate.

Every so often, Molly would ask you to help with the gardening, and Ron would join you. He’d also lend a hand with making dinner and setting the table. Though you and Ron didn’t talk much during school, moments like these made you wonder how your friendship might have turned out if you'd befriended him sooner.

Despite the good times, you and Ron still bickered quite often—but always in a playful way.

"Y/N! Did you take my shirt again?" Ron yelled from his bedroom. You could hear him clearly from the kitchen.

"No!" you shouted back, glancing down at the shirt you were wearing. It was, in fact, Ron’s. His shirts had a particular scent, one that charmed you. The smell was like warm vanilla, with a hint of ground cinnamon. It smelled so good, it was hard to resist.

It felt strange wearing your now-best friend and roommate’s shirt, but you couldn’t help being drawn to his scent.

"Then where the bloody hell is it?!" Ron continued yelling, now coming down the stairs and spotting you in his shirt.

For a moment, he didn’t even register that you were wearing it. Instead, it was your figure that caught his attention. The way your shorts and shirt accentuated your shape made him feel as though he were gazing at a divine being. Your hair, your face, your body—everything about you captivated him. Who knew you could look so good in his shirt?

"Merlin…" he thought, before snapping back to reality. "I knew you were lying! That’s my shirt!" he shrieked, charging towards you and playfully tackling you onto the couch. You couldn’t escape his embrace—his strong arms held you firmly in place, giving him full control over you.

You laughed as he whined, "Y/N, I’m not letting you go until you give me my shirt back." It was amusing to see him so desperate over a simple piece of clothing.

"Oh, piss off, Ron! And I noticed the way you looked at me when you first saw it. You bet it’s not coming off," you said, emphasizing the word bet.

"You’re not going anywhere then," he replied, still holding you close. You felt the back of your head hit his chest before responding, "That means you aren’t either."

You both chuckled and sat in silence for a few moments, processing the tension. Eventually, you both dozed off on the couch, still in the same position.

While you and Ron were sleeping, Fred and George noticed and exchanged a 'we’re never gonna let him forget about this' kind of grin. But this time, they decided to spare Ron the embarrassment and let him continue sleeping with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

And just like that, summer was nearly over. In a week, you'd be back at Hogwarts—away from your new home and the one you'd nearly forgotten. The Burrow had given you a new sense of what 'home' truly felt like, and you loved it dearly.

The last thing you wanted was to be away from the Burrow, knowing it would leave you feeling empty. This summer made you realize just how lucky every one of Molly’s children was to have such loving parents, and despite the house not being fancy or immaculate, it truly felt like home. Everything about it was comforting.

Your mind was in a scramble, the thought of leaving clouding your thoughts. To blow off some stress, you decided to visit a spot you’d discovered during your first few weeks at the Burrow—a nearby pond. It was especially beautiful at night, with the stars in the sky and the moon reflecting its light on the water.

You sat down on the grass and let out a deep sigh until you heard footsteps behind you. Turning your head, you saw your red-headed roommate. "Not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked. "Not at all," you replied. Although you had hoped for a peaceful moment, you didn’t mind his presence.

The sound of crickets and night owls, along with the view of the moonlit pond, was breathtaking. You both sat in silence, taking in the beauty. It was rare for you and Ron to have a quiet moment like this; you were usually either bickering or laughing your heads off. But something about this moment felt magical. Unlike anything you had ever experienced with anyone.

You glanced over at Ron, trying not to make it obvious. You hadn’t realized how beautiful his features were—his perfectly upturned nose, soft orange locks of hair, and the way the moonlight reflected in his crystal blue eyes. He was just as breathtaking as the view you had been looking at moments ago.

Your eyes darted back to the pond, but made their way back to Ron as he said your name. "Y/N, it was really nice having you here at the Burrow this summer. I never really wanted a roommate, but you turned out to be the best one ever. Honestly, you made this whole experience so much better." Ron shyly spoke.

"You were a very good roommate too. I’m really gonna miss this. This place felt even better than my actual home; it’s so much more lively here. A-and frankly, I don’t know what it’ll be like without it," you said, your breath shaking. Hearing the tremor in your voice, Ron threw his arm around your shoulder and moved closer to you. You missed being this close to him. You missed his touch.

"You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me," he said. Your eyes widened—such a bold statement. Did he really enjoy your company that much? You glanced at him, still processing what he’d just said.

You didn’t know where to look. You couldn’t focus only on his eyes, not when you suddenly craved every part of his face—especially his lips.

You could see he was doing the same; his eyes shifted to your lips. Oh gosh, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You couldn’t go another second without tasting him.

As if he read your mind, Ron inched closer, closing the gap between you, until your lips finally met.

Your lips moved in sync, tasting each other’s mouths. This was what you’d been craving, and you finally had it.

His arm slid off your shoulder and landed on the grass, supporting his upper body. His other hand found its way behind your head, gently tugging at your hair, earning a small whine from you.

Still not breaking the kiss, you straddled onto his lap, one hand tangled in his hair while the other rested on his cheek. It’s safe to say you’d earned yourself a boyfriend for the upcoming year at Hogwarts.

This had been your best summer ever—summer at the Burrow.

#ron weasley #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron wealsey x y/n #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fluff #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagine #gryffindor #gryffindor boys #harry potter fluff

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huggybearhughes43 · 5 months ago

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Haha I am LOVING the Hughes brother series…. Can I just request one with only jack? But not only smut. Some angst too. Like they fall asleep together at the lake house after doing that. And Quinn and Luke find them the next morning but don’t say anything. They just ignore the both of them Nd are super rude towards her, so they all are at family dinner and Quinn speaks up saying stuff towards her basically exposing what she was doing and she gets up and leaves but then you can get the rest!!

Kiss me hard before you go

Jack Hughes x Fem! Reader

Okay I changed up the end cus I might write more chapters but yeah. Also, last part until I clear out my inbox! Here’s pt1, pt2, and pt3

Warnings- All the Hughes brothers x reader, Jack Hughes smut, angst, soft sex, raw dawgin, a lotta crying and not the good kind

Summary- After a long day with the boys, Jack tells the reader that he found a girl he really likes but wants to have one last time with her before him and the girl get serious. Quinn doesn’t take it too well when he finds Jack and the reader in bed together.

Word count- 2.1k

It had been three hours since Trevor and Cole arrived. The two insisted on spending the day on the boat, in which the brothers couldn’t refuse. I sit by myself on the back of the boat with Quinn driving and the other four boys at the front. The noon sun shined on my face, resulting in me putting my book over my face to block the sun out. Quinn stops the boat and makes his way to me without me realizing. The touch of his soft hands on my arm startles me, I take the book off my face and furrow my brows. “What?” He smiles down at me. “You’re sitting on the anchor.” A small “oh” falls off my lips as I stand up.

He drops the anchor into the water and then closes the seat I was sitting on so I can sit on it once again. I grab a towel I packed and lay it out on the back tail of the boat. Before I lay down on the towel I pull Quinn’s shirt off of myself, followed by my shorts. I hear a faint whistle come from Trevor’s way, resulting in me flipping him off before laying on the towel. The boys are in the water in the beat of a heart, but for some reason Quinn stays. I’m quietly reading my book when I feel a presence next to me.

“What’re you reading?” He practically lays his head on my shoulder to look at the book. “I’m re-reading Percy Jackson.” I show him the cover then go back to reading. “Why aren’t you in the water with everyone else?” He moves his head on my shoulder to look at me, “I’d rather be up here with you.” I close my book and look at him, “I wish I never did this” Quinn furrows his brows, “what? Why?” I gnaw at my bottom of my lip before I tell him. “I know you know that I liked you but did you really know how long?”

Quinn takes a breath, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think I do.” I stare into his eyes before looking away. “Since the day we met.” I mumble. “Y/n, fifteen years?” I shrug at his words, “now I’ve ruined it.” Quinn’s eyes go soft and he rubs his jaw. “You think about our happiness too much” I look at him and frown, “what?” “I mean, even if you do something that hurts our feelings, we’ll get over it. That’s how much we love you, y/n.” I smile as he talks, “thank you.” We stare at each other for a short moment before Quinn leans in. The kiss was soft and thoughtful.

“Ugh, stop making out.” We jump away from each other, a smile cracking on my lips when I realize it was just Jack. “Could you be any louder?” Quinn shakes his head and Jack scoffs, “could you be any more obvious?” The other boys follow Jack suite, getting back on the boat. Quinn sits with me for a moment more in silence, “just remember what I said, okay?” I look at him and nod before he stands up, joining his brothers back on the inside of the boat.

After the five hour mark, at two in the afternoon, the boat ride was miserable. I didn’t want to say anything because the boys were having fun but my skin felt tight from the sun and the heat was making me nauseous. Luke got back on the boat for a reason that’s unknown and noticed my state almost immediately. “Y/n, are you okay?” My head was leaned back in the seat with a cold water bottle pressed to my neck. “Overheated.” “Still don’t wanna get in the lake?” I shake my head without even looking at him. “I’ll tell the guys, won’t mention your name, promise.” I smile at his gentle words, “thank you, Lukey”

I didn’t know what Luke told them but the boys were back on the boat in minutes. Quinn was behind the wheel, taking us back to the docks. I was the first one who rushed off of the boat the second we were tied to the dock. The sun tight skin was uncomfortable as I rushed inside. I run up to Luke and I’s shared room to change into a tube top and loose shorts to ease the pain of the burnt skin. I sigh as I make my way downstairs, regretting not wearing sun cream. The boys goofed their way into the living room next to the kitchen.

I walk past Ellen and she gasps. “Oh honey, I have cream upstairs in my room. It’ll help the burn, come on.” I nod and follow her back up to the stairs. Ellen was like a second mom to me, she took care of me that way. So when she asked me to take the shirt off I was wearing I did so without second thought. I pulled it off as Ellen grabbed the cream out of her drawers. She rubs it into her hands before smothering it against my sunscreen. My heart skipped a beat when the door swung open. My arms instinctively fly to cover my chest, a huff of almost relief fell from my lips realizing it was just Jack. Ellen scoffs and turns me to face away from her son, “didn’t I ever teach you to knock?” He rubs his neck and shakes his head, “sorry mom, I’ll come back later.” He turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Ellen finishes up with my back, my skin already feeling more than better. I put my shirt back on before thanking her and leaving the room. The rest of the day goes as normal as one would think. The boys hung out around the pool while Jim grilled dinner, I stayed in with Ellen so I didn’t harm my skin any further. But what I couldn’t help but notice the lingering stares from the middle brother anytime he comes inside. Even during dinner he couldn’t keep his eyes off of me, which of course Quinn took a notice to. I decided to help with the dishes afterwards, Jack jumping to voluntarily help me.

He stands beside me and I can’t help but speak up. “What’s going on with you, J?” I look up at him. He shrugs, “nothing” I roll my eyes with a soft scoff, “you’re such a bad liar.” He finishes up the dishes and sighs, “if you come up to my room later I’ll tell you-“ “trying to get into my pants?” Jack laughs and shakes his head, “no but that would definitely be a plus if you let me.” I roll my eyes and nod, “yeah, I’ll be up there later.” I dry my hands and sit down on the couch.

Once the boys starting going to bed one by one, I decide it’s my time to as well. Jack mentions that he’s going up to his room and I follow up by saying the same. Jacks already on his bed when I enter his room, closing the door behind me. I sit on the side of his bed with my arms crossed. “Okay, I’ve been going over what I was gonna say and you were right.” He smiles cheekily and I scoff. “But listen! I have a reason.” “Uh huh, and that reason is…?” I look at him with a raised brow. “So there’s this girl, right?” “There’s a girl and you want to get into my pants?” I look at him confused. “Listen!” He urges “I’m listening.”

“I just- before me and her get serious, you know? I really like her, but you- shit I’ve liked you for years.” I can’t help but laugh at his words. He scoffs, “stop laughing!” I pinch my lips to stop myself from even smiling and I nod my head, “fine, fine, okay.” I giggle, agreeing to help him. He smiles and grasps my hips, pulling me onto his lap. “You’re so lucky I love you.” I whisper before kissing him softly, “I know” he mumbles against my lips. It was weird coming from Jack, he was normally fast paced and sloppy but now he was soft. I guessed he just knew that this would be the last time we were able to be together like this.

Jack moves me so I’m the one with my head pressed against the pillows while he hovered above me. His hands pull at my top before pulling it off of my head, his head dipping down to my bare chest. He presses soft kisses all over my chest before sucking faint marks over my breasts. He carefully nips at my nipples, pulling them into his mouth before kissing down my stomach. I never thought I’d see this side of Jack, soft and caring. He loops his fingers in my shorts, pulling them down as well as my panties. Before he had the chance to do anything, I pull him up to connect our lips.

He pulls away for a moment to rid of his own shirt before connecting our lips again. My hands roam over his chest and forth down to rest on his abs. Jack sits up, ridding himself of the rest of his clothes. He presses his head to the nape of my neck before lining himself up. My wetness served as a lubricant, helping him slip inside of me. I let out a content sigh when he bottoms out, causing him to laugh softly against my neck. “Shut up” he smirks against my neck, “yes ma’am.” And before I even have the chance to respond, he retracts his hips and snaps them back into mine. With each thrust, a moan like gasp falls from my lips.

Jack reaches his hand down in between us, pressing his thumb to my clit. With the feeling of him circling my sensitive bud, my cunt clenches around his dick. The feeling makes him groan against my neck, “I’m gonna cum” he whispers. I nod with my eyes pinched shut, “me too.” With just a few more thrusts, he lets go and releases deep inside of me. The feeling sends me over the edge, my juices coating him. I look down at him and when our eyes meet, a smile cracks onto my lips. He slowly pulls out and lays down next to me, pulling me into his arms. I reach down to the floor, stealing jacks shirt to pull over myself. I lay back in his arms. Without another word, we both fall soundly asleep.

The sound of a scoff wakes me up, I look towards the door to see an obviously pissed off Quinn. I look back down at Jack, he was still sound asleep. I look back at Quinn and he looked as if he were trying to kill me with his look. I roll my eyes and stand up, walking up to Quinn to push him out of the room. I follow him quick suits, “what’s your problem?” I whisper yell to him when we both walk into his room. “What’s my problem? Are you just trying to play with our feelings?” I look at him dumbfounded before anger floods my face. “This is the exact fucking reason I said I regret doing this, the reason I can’t date any of you!” “You regret doing it? Then why’d you go and do it again?” I stare at the oldest brother with a disgusted look on my face.

“What happened with what you said earlier? Huh? That even if I hurt your feelings you’d get over because that’s how much you love me? Or were you talking about your brothers forgiving me if I got with you?” His silence gives me my answer and I just shake my head, “go fuck yourself.” I say in a fit of rage before storming out of his room, making my way to my shared one with Luke. Luke’s sound asleep when I rush in, the sound of my heavy foot steps and quiet sobs wake him up.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” He asks, holding his arms out for me to crawl into without another word. He holds he as I cry into his chest, I knew even if I told him that he wouldn’t be mad at me in a million years. But still, if I tried to tell him the sobs would muffle my words and he wouldn’t even be able to tell me. He runs his hands over my hair in attempt to soothe me. “It’s okay, y/n, just tell me later. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.” My sobs die off as I slowly fall asleep in Luke’s arms. He doesn’t stop his comforting motions until he was sure I was asleep. Luke lays down as ultimately falls asleep with me, still holding me close.

#smut #nhl #hockey smut #new jersey devils #jack hughes smut #quinn hughes #luke hughes #hughes brothers

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aristia-pjoheadcanons · 1 year ago

Note

Hi it's literally the same anon that requested the percy NSFW headcanons but I'm back for more🤭

I would absolutely devour percy x virgin fem! Reader headcanons

THANK YOU IN ADVANCE 💙

Interested? Click HERE for Jason nsfw headcanons.

->masterlist

Slight NSFW warning, Percy Jackson and !virgin reader

You are a virgin? Well, he is too. This guy does not have any experience at all. His first kiss was probably you.

First time would be sweet, slow, and soft. He is too afraid to use his strength and does not know how to move his hips.

Once he gets a nice rhythm, the only thing he’s doing it watching your facial expressions to see if you’re enjoying it.

If you aren’t enjoying it, he will also not enjoy it. Pleasure is a mutual thing.

His mother has taught him consent and the school taught him sex ed. So, he does know that he needs a condom.

Percy wouldn’t even bring up sex during the relationship – its just such a weird and odd thing to bring up in his opinion so why would he?

But then as the relationship progresses, I’m guessing after 1 year and he’s in college now; he could perhaps be tempted to be more teasing in a way during kisses and let his hands wander a bit.

Then he would ask quietly if you’ve ever thought about the two of you having sex.

“Have you ever thought of us...y´know…doing...something….together?” “Like what? What do you mean” “you know…like touch--ing….” (Licks his lips nervously).

If you’re open and say yes, he would say “me too” in such an awkward way lol.

He would be tempted to run away from the conversation and apologize if you said no.

“Do you ever wanna….do something…more? —or want ME to do more?” Percy would look at you through his bangs.

The discussion is awkward but important to the both of you. Talking about the things you like and whatnot – but don’t expect anything too detailed he´s too embarrassed to even say sex out loud.

But that doesn’t mean he is a kid who doesn’t know how it works. He gets it, he knows that it isn’t embarrassing to say dick, vagina and sex – but he’s not used to saying it.

When he first bought a condom, he was actually tempted to just ask Grover to buy it because he’s older than him.

But at the same time, it´s kind of embarrassing so he decided not to.

He just took the first one he saw and luckily it was a normal condom that does the job just fine.

He totally didn’t look suspicious wearing a hoodie and having his head hanged low to the ground. When the cashier did small talk and asked him how he was – he didn’t even answer and shifted his feet anxiously.

He is so goddamn nervous before he does it too. He doesn’t know when to make the move or if he should just jump straight to undressing.

Most likely happened when he´s at the Beach house or in his dorm room.

He would be seated somewhere comfortable, like the couch or the sofa. And he would bring a towel and awkwardly put it next to you – just in case of a mess.

Closing all windows and curtains, locking each door – he would not be able to chill out LMFAO.

And then, watch a movie or something. He would sit next to you – not daring to even glance at you. Sweaty palms and you can hear him swallowing his own spit next to you.

You would maybe have to take the initiative with the cuddling or scoot a bit closer to let him know you´re ready.

Maybe he would swing an arm around your shoulders or lean on you.

Then the quiet question comes when he touches the seam of your shirt.

He would start touching any skin that’s available, stomach or legs, or shoulders or neck.

Things gets difficult by then – where should he touch next? He doesn’t know.

Biting his lip anxiously, he’s waiting for you to do something that will give him a clue. If you lean your head back, then he leans down to snuggle his face there and gives it a kiss.

Kissing->making out -> touching your waist and hips and legs.

“I want you”. Something corny he might say but he means it.

If you back-out he is very understanding – but will feel like it´s his fault when it really isn´t. But will take it as a valuable lesson to learn more before he does it again and the next times would be better. No matter how many times you say you don’t want to – he will respect it and will never make you feel bad. Actually, he is relieved that you are vocal about it.

And then, I´m guessing !reader keeps their shirt on at first since it’s the first time so things can get awkward quickly.

Grinding->touch his stomach and he will melt into the touch->help his shirt over his head and kiss his collarbone->Percy would start to inch your shirt higher and higher to expose more but will tell immediately if you get shy or nervous and would stop->eye contact is so important he needs to know how you are and if you aren’t going to talk, you bet he’s going to communicate through other ways.

Then, shimming your pants/skirt/dress off, ->he leans closer and cuddles you->if you say “more” he will send a questioning look because what does “more” mean? More kissing, more touching, more grinding, more noises? -> “more of x”.

Then, when both are naked, don’t worry Percy already has blankets ready to cover the both of you so you are both underneath a shared blanket->”Is this okay?” “Are you alright?” questions will be murmured and quietly asked, Percy is looking for reassurance->then it happens, its difficult to put it in and he already put on a condom->goes excruciatingly slow because he does not want it to hurt (perhaps he confided in Annabeth before he decided to have intercourse with you)->any advice he got from his friend will be used.

In the end, overall, he would be satisfied but wants to be better next time. Percy is the type of person that is always striving for best.

#greek mythology #percy jackson #percy jackson headcanons #pjo #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x gnreader #percy jackson x female reader #percy jackson scenarios #Rickriordian #rick riordan

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amoreva · 9 months ago

Text

FEIGNING FOR YA’

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CHAPTER 1

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: as a little childish act of rebellion, you try dating your friend, Luke Castellan, to really piss off your parents (for a actual real reason, not the small things they hate). what was supposed to be no strings attached turned into a little more than just childish revenge.

warnings: slow burn, college au, smau, fake dating to dating, cursing, clarisse x chris, aged up! pjo charcters, yn is older sister figure to percy, luke and thalia are older sibling figures to annabeth

a/n: i have re-written this one too many times and am still in the process of revising and proofreading to give you guys the best condition of the start of this fic series! So sorry for the delay!

series list | next

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“Are we still friends?”

“What?”

“Can we be friends?”

“After all of this?”

“After all of this.”

It would be a disastrously great story to tell your grandkids (if you had grandkids). Quite embarrassing really, telling someone about how naive and oblivious you were (still are.)

It was spring. The flowers in full bloom. Allergies spreading like wildfire due to pollen. Thankfully, it was raining cats and dogs, so no stuffy noses tonight. You decided to come back from your hometown two days before spring break ended. As much as you were homesick after spending so long at college, your family made you feel homesick for college.

It was torturous. Questions and questions about your college life were thrown at you left and right. From potentially having a significant other to your major that you were taking to who you were friends with to being disappointed in your college major to asking about your grades to being disappointed you party to just being disappointed.

All in all, truly you loved your family. Really, you do. Your aunt made great pastries. Your dad a great cook. Your uncle made really funny (bad.) jokes. Yet, they found some way to critic your every decision and move you make. You hated it.

Your shoes squeaked on tiled stairs. Lugging up your suitcase, you just prayed you didn’t fall. The tiles were wet because people’s shoes were wet. You did not want to pay a hospital bill after barely paying for college.

By the time you got to your dorm, you were already half asleep, running on an overpriced yogurt parfait from the airport. The soft comforter of your bed calling out to you like a siren’s song.

You were lulling off to dreamscape when a loud ominous creak filled the silence. “C’mon. You gotta be better than that. Lock your doors.” Luke’s “charming” voice replaced your peace. “Some creep could waltz in and kidnap you in your sleep.”

“Supposed you’re that creep?”

Luke has been attached to your hip since highschool, freshman year. Both of you have suffered through each other’s numerous cringy phases (only to bring them up for the annual birthday post on instagram).

He was one of the friends your parents despise. They always ranted about how they’ve been a bad influence to you since highschool.

“Depends.” The bed dipped under his weight. “Do you think you look okay enough to go out?”

“I guess, but I feel disgusting.” You answered. Confusion swimming through your mind. Where was Luke going with this?

“Are you upset because of a recent event?”

“Kinda.”

“Upset enough to stay holed up the whole evening?” Luke rephrased.

“No.”

“Okay.” Decision.

You heard his windbreaker swish as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Luke!” Like a bag of potatoes you were tossed over his shoulder. “You fucking—!”

He grabbed what he was originally came in your dorm for and exited. Silena, Chris and Clarisse were waiting for Luke and now, you. “Welcome back!” Silena said, masking her shock.

No one knew you were coming back home early and Luke wasn’t surprised. As much as you wanted to stay in your dorm and sleep, you were glad to be with your friends.

The restaurant was loud and lively. The rain ceasing. College students were celebrating their final few days before classes started up again. The occasional drunks here to watch the multiple football games going on. Your friend group chose to celebrate.

The dim lighting was a stark contrast to the bright TVs that played various football and soccer games. Drinks slid down the bar into the awaiting consumer’s hand. Alcohol got everyone in a better mood during the night (though the same cannot be said the morning after).

A waiter placed down the five shots Luke had ordered, in toast of your unexpected return and the final days of spring break. The shot glasses made a tiny clink before the liquid burned your throat. It left a warm feeling in your chest.

Silena and Clarisse went to take photos via Chris the cameraman. The three went out to the porch of the restaurant bar. You opted out and Luke stayed with you. You weren’t exactly in the nicest clothes.

Another round of shots were placed on the table. Luke ran his fingers through his curls and checked his phone. “What’s bothering you?” He asked.

“What?” You tore your gaze from the two girls and looked at Luke.

“You said you were upset about something, but not too upset to not go out.” Luke explained. “Better to get it off your shoulders than to bottle it up.”

You roll your eyes at his last sentence and sat up in the cushioned restaurant chair. “Family.” Luke laughed a little at that. He’s known how perfect your family wants you to be.

You shove your face into your hands as if you were reliving the reunion all over again. “I didn’t even do anything bad or get in serious trouble this time!”

Luke nodded along slowly, taking in your every word. You can’t tell what he’s thinking as you continue on your little rant. Yet his face shifts as you rant.

“Why are your grades like that?”

“I saw your Instagram post. Drinking? Really?”

You parrot some of the questions your family said to you, with their fake smiles and judgmental eyes. You were old enough to drink! “And then they started talking my ear off about you all. Clarisse! Thalia, you—Silena and Chris” The list goes on. Luke knows it. You know it.

“Why are you friends with that temperamental girl? Lord knows the trouble you’ll be roped into with her.” You mocked your parents, aunts and uncles’ words. “I don’t like how that Thalia girl. Too rebellious, disrespectful too!”

“That one girl is an airhead. Head in the clouds.”

“Don’t get me started on that Luke boy again.”

“Get better friends.”

“Maybe you hang out with a different group.”

“They piss me off! And well maybe they’re concerned about my wellbeing, but—they keep harping me about everything little thing I do.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes exhausted. “Which is why I came back early.”

“So piss them off.” Like that was the hardest thing you do. You unintentionally trigger their judgmental side without even trying.

“What?”

“It’s what I do to my dad. I piss him off most of the time when he tries to come back.” Luke shrugged. “If they hate all of us so much. Date one of us, shit—date me, you’ve known me the longest. I think they’d be pretty pissed about you dating a bad influence.”

“That’s so childish.” You commented, but it was good, but it could work. Rebellion never hurt anyone that bad. Well, maybe your aunt will have a “heart attack”, but it should be fine.

And you were out of options to try and get your family off your back.

So the next afternoon, when Clarisse was out, Luke and you sat on your bed and conjured up a contract for this temporary relationship; a day before break was over.

“I don’t see why we need a contract.” Luke sipped on a juicebox. The sunlight providing a nice atmosphere in your dorm room.

“I saw it work on a show I watched kinda.” You whispered the word “kinda” under your breath. It was a long time since you’ve seen the show.

Luke raised an eyebrow and set the empty juice box on your desk. “So…uh—terms and conditions.” You typed out on a Google doc in big bolded letters. How do you start this?

“We could “date” from now until the start of summer? I think that is a long enough rebellion.” You suggested and looked at Luke. “I have to go back home for Easter and my little sister’s birthday, but then I have that family trip in summer…”

“Sure.” Luke agreed.

You looked at him silently asking him to elaborate. “From now until that family trip is over. I’ll go to Easter, the birthday and the trip.”

“You aren’t trying to mooch off me for the trip are you?”

Luke slid the computer to him and typed out the first terms and conditions. He ignored your question with a smile and a shake of his head. “You have to come with me when it’s Mother’s Day though.”

You agreed to that relatively quickly. Your mom and dad were always out of town that day. “I’m fine with kissing on the cheek and forehead and holding hands, if you are?”

“What? No lips?” Luke teased with a grin.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.” You muttered in embarrassment.

“Fine, no lips.” You were slightly surprised Luke didn’t tease you for not having your first kiss yet. He typed it on the computer. “And no sex.”

“No sex.” You agreed. “And we cannot let the others know. They’ll start talking and then it’ll get to my family somehow—”

“Okay…no sex and no talking about the fake relationship.” Luke chucked and typed it on the computer. “This seems good enough for a contract right?” He still thinks the contract is stupid.

You smack his shoulder. “This is serious, Luke! If I wanna piss of my parents I have to do it right.”

“Okay, sweetie.” He spoke sarcastically and typed his name at the end of the document. You did the same. “But there is no right way to piss off someone. You just do.”

After signing the temporary dating contract, Luke and you talked about the story of how you got together.

Luke and you supposedly have had some unrequited feelings during highschool. Both of you began talking over spring break after a drunk conversation and decided to give dating a shot.

Then, there was the fact that Luke and you had to announce the relationship. So, social media it was. Which prompted you to grab his hand. “Where are we going?” Luke asked as he was dragged off your bed.

“A cafe.” You held his hand, fingers lacing together. “I’m hungry after all that and it would be great publicity if we went out holding hands.”

“Whatever you say.” Luke rolled his eyes, though he didn’t mean it. “Then I guess I’ll be the good boyfriend and pay.”

“Really?” You asked and looked back at him.

He shrugged. “Why not.”

Luke and you held hands and talked about whatever came to mind. Like you usually did as bestfriends. He opened the cafe door for you and paid for your food and drink.

Maybe “dating” Luke won’t be the worst thing ever. Rebelling doesn’t seem to be all that bad now. Maybe everything will turn out fine. You rebel against your perfect family and Luke will get a free trip as a reward. Yeah, you’re sure things will turn out okay. Maybe.

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taglist:

@happy-mushrooms @m00ng4z3r

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan fic series #college au #pjo smau #clarisse la rue #chris rodriguez #silena beauregard

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stardust-poet · 3 months ago

Text

Stars.

Pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader

Warnings: slightly vivid gore descriptions, not proof read

A/n: wrote this at midnight, so... might be a little incoherent

Enjoy!

You and your friend percy sat next to each other, percy sitting with his legs crossed and you with your legs dangling off the side of the rooftop of cabin 3, watching the stars peacefully.

You were the one who invited him to do this at such a late hour. Percy didn't mind much, though. He was a little concerned about getting too cold and turning into a perseus-popsicle. And the harpys tearing the both of you to bits.

You had called percy on the demigod-safe phones Leo Valdez had made for Camp-Halfblood as well as Camp-Jupiter all the way in California.

Your voice was shaky, and your words were stuttered over and repeated. That was when percy knew something was wrong.

Percy had always been plagued with nightmares since he had been thrown into the demigod life. That's what he suspected happened to you tonight. You might've been plagued with the horrors of both wars or some of the quests you've been on with other campers who may or may not have made it back in one piece.

Either way, he was here for you.

Percy had a crush on you. It didn't affect whether or not he would've come. He would always come when you called.

His little crush started out small. Holding stares just a little longer, more aware of how warm hugs from you were, admiring your appearance.

But soon, it got deeper and more passionate. Noticing every little quirk you have, memorizing your 'system' whenever you perform a task, slowly falling in love with every part of you. Your eyes, your smile.

Gods, he loved that smile.

Percy hardly focused on the stars tonight. His entire focus was you and you alone. You were the only star he ever needed. Until his own brain reminded him that you might not have the same feelings, and as of now, you aren't in the greatest condition to confess to. He had planned to confess tonight.

The silence was deafening yet peaceful. You felt like everything was crashing down on top of you. You felt the weight of it all, but you weren't crushed. You couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Earlier in the night, you woke up from a nightmare.

Not the usual kind, where it was maybe a monster chasing after you and having to run for your life with the overwhelming fear that it might catch up to you.

This time, it was memories.

Memories of the wars, bloodied guts, and other bodily parts everywhere from countless people you knew and some you didn't, mangled bodies spread throughout the area, people who were barely alive and hoarsely crying for help.

It felt as if everything was a thousand times worse in the nightmare then it had been in the actual moment.

Was it like that because you were so desensitized to this stuff? That you had to re-experience it in a dream for it to kick in?

What if you can't change this? What if every single bad, traumatizing, gut-wrenching thing that happens to you is something you'll blow off in the future?

What if you go cold?

What if you go numb?

What if—

"Are...you okay?" Percys soft whisper broke through the silence. Breaking you out of your downward spiral.

You hadn't realized it, but hot tears were streaming down you face. You hated the fact percy had seen you like this ... unless he didn't.

It was dark enough, right? Maybe he couldn't see you falling apart from your own thoughts.

And, percys whisper was just quiet enough for you to ignore it. You could blow this off, right?

"The stars look lovely, don't you think?"

Wouldn't this be confirming the one thing you feared?

"...that doesn't answer my question." Percy whispered, looking to you with a frown.

When he heard you faintly sniffle only a few moments ago, he got a wave of panic and fear flooded through him.

Were you alright? Were you crying? What had really happened?

That was when he saw the tears and asked if you were alright, resisting the urge to hold you.

"I don't wanna lie to you, percy." You whispered, your voice cracking as tears threatened to stream out of your eyes.

You wiped away the few tears that spilled out, feeling colder and alone despite a human next to you.

Then, percy pulled you into a close hug.

It was warm. You nuzzled into his chest and sobbed quietly, not really caring if anyone would hear.

Percy smelled like the ocean breeze and the beach. His hug was comforting and not like anything else you've ever felt.

Percy held you closer when he saw your shoulders heaving in rhythm with your sobs, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

"It's okay, I'm here. It's okay, I promise you're safe. It's okay, you're safe. You're safe." He whispered sweet nothings that meant everything to you.

After your sobs had died down and been reduced to sniffles, percy asked:

"Do you...wanna talk about it?"

You shook your head against his chest.

"Okay. Okay, that's okay." He whispered, placing another kiss to the top of your head.

Maybe someday he'll get to confess, but surely not now.

Someday.

°•~《☆》~•°

Kinda mad at myself for not making them kiss ngl :/

Based on a writing prompt from (I think) Bookingitonthedaily on Instagram

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wri0thesley · 7 months ago

Text

hopeless romantic - percy (yandere demon oc) x reader (4.6k)

valentine's day has snuck up on you. somehow you don't think this one is going to be as pleasant as last year's.

cw: this is primarily a horror work. kidnapped reader, captive reader, mental torture. food warning, claustrophobia. mentions of (non-explicit): insects, emetophobia, dental trauma. general hopelessness and manipulation. REALLY fuck this guy!

a/n: for a very quick primer on percy, please read this, and/or see this!

(also i mentioned this last time i wrote something for lucas but getting a commission for one of my own ocs is so WILDLY exciting and flattering. waaah!!!)

this was a commissioned work.

You didn’t consider yourself a hopeless romantic.

Perhaps you consider yourself a bit of a romantic, in that you’d always enjoyed a classic love story; re-read your copy of Pride and Prejudice until it had fallen apart, had occasional daydreams of handsome suitors and the swirl of a masquerade ball, had perhaps watched Labyrinth too often as a young woman and wondered ‘what if’ about the Goblin King and his domain--

But you had thought you knew enough not to expect fiction from real life. No balls for you; no impassioned declarations of love soaked to the bone, no royal promising he would move the world for you if only you asked. You had thought you would be content with a bouquet of flowers - a smile, a squeeze of the hand whilst watching a romantic comedy, a kiss goodnight that was a little awkward with a clash of teeth and tongue. That was the kind of life, you told yourself, that waited for an average person like you - and that, too, would be enough. Because companionship would be enough; somebody to walk through life with, somebody who understood you, somebody who would cuddle up to you at night.

And then you had met Percy.

You hadn’t been able to believe your luck.

A man almost exactly like you’d imagined? Someone who held the door open for you and smiled so softly it made you ache, who would sit with you and talk about books and whatever else passed through your minds for as long as you wanted? Always seeming to know what to say, always there for you - he’d brought you a bouquet of roses for your first date, for God’s sake. And though you’d been anxious about the ostentation of them, holding them at the restaurant, the way people seemed to be staring at you from every table . . . you had bit back the nervousness and given him a shaking smile and let yourself be swept off your feet.

You wish that you’d seen the signs then.

Maybe you had? Maybe you’d noticed them all and simply let them roll off of you instead, water off a duck’s back, because if you let Percy go you’d surely never find anyone like him again? And they had seemed such little things, too. Waiting just a fraction of a moment too long to comfort you when you were frightened or anxious - almost as if he was letting the moment shimmer in the air, develop as far as he could. Always being awake after you’d had a nightmare (you’d bought the chronic insomnia excuse at the time, but . . . surely someone who never seemed to sleep should be more tired than Percy ever seemed to be?). Nightmares, coincidentally, you don’t remember having so vividly or so regularly before you met Percy--

“Hey,” he’d murmured, soothing you, pulling you into him, warm hands rubbing up and down your back as he’d whispered sweet nothings into your hair. “Shh, sweetie. Just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about.”

And those nightmares - the ones where you thought you’d woken up, eyes as wide as saucers, body pinned to the bed by some unknown force . . . and slowly, slowly, the creature of spindle limbs and glowing eyes and sharp bright teeth had crept into your view, sharp fingernails running over the duvet and the blankets, Percy’s presence beside you in the nightmare non-existent--

You curl your body around yourself on the hard wooden floor; there’s a bed, in the corner of the room, but you preferred nowadays to stave off sleep for as long as you could.

Looking back on it, you think you should have known. Should have run for the hills - your friends had loved him at first, citing his warm smile and the way he treated you like a princess . . . but before you knew it, your friends had dropped away, because you were spending all of your time with him instead. If you still had your cell phone . . . how long had it been since you spoke to your best friend? What was the last thing you said to her?

Your stomach rolls uncomfortably as you think about how it was probably something about Percy.

You were such a fool.

You pull yourself off the bed, your body aching with the effort of it. You don’t get much exercise nowadays; this little room, with a bed and a desk and no windows and the strange sigils scrawled on the floor in paint (definitely paint, you tell yourself fiercely, though it shines strangely when the light hits it and is a dark, dried out red that makes your stomach roll) is all of the space you have. You can stride from one wall to another in fifteen paces. Thirty floorboards.

You’ve counted all of these.

You lower yourself onto the chair by the desk, your back crying out in pain. Even if you had been sleeping properly on the bed, it was hardly comfortable - and when one is as racked with nightmares as you are, tossing and turning and twisting and begging . . . Well. No wonder you hurt so much.

You tread carefully. You have seen this room become a thousand things; have seen a dark pit open up in the middle of the sigil and all manner of creatures crawl out of it, crowding up to you with gaping maws and blood-shining teeth and great pits of eyes. Spiders. Bugs. Screaming. Three days when all of the light in the entire room - your entire existence - had gone from the world, and you had fumbled and stumbled around the room without direction.

(Into Percy, a couple of times, who had laughed and held you tight and whispered sweet nothings into your ear that might have been romantic, once upon a time, but now just lilted with mockery.

“Oh,” he’d murmured, soft and silky against your ear. “Poor thing. Are you scared of the dark?”

You had not thought yourself scared of the dark - but until those three days, you suppose, you had not known what the dark was. Had not known it could settle so thick and heavy like covering your entire world with ink; had not known it would muffle everything else so completely. Percy had kissed you demanding and hungry in the middle of the nothingness and you had hated yourself as you’d clung to his shirt in between the kisses and begged him not to leave you there.

He had, of course).

There is one other thing you’ve counted.

As best you can, anyway; it’s hard to keep real track when Percy’s comings and goings can be so sporadic. He remembers to feed you, you think, most days - but with no window, no way to tell the time truly . . . days can blur into one another. And so, though you think it’s February, you wouldn’t have known for sure that it was the thirteenth of February, unless--

“Friday the thirteenth,” Percy had hummed, that what-might-have-been-morning, as he’d held you softly in his arms as you writhed and whimpered, the walls closing in on you. It’s a dirty trick, what Percy can do, you think; the hallucinations, the untruths . . . interspersed with the truth, just so you never quite know what is real or not. You’d known in some primal part of you that this one had to be one of the tricks - walls do not really cave in on you, you are not living in some ancient Egyptian-themed action movie where walls are booby-trapped to crush you into tiny pieces - but when the threat of death looms over you in such a way, you suppose that your mind cannot truly be reasoned with.

You hadn’t thought you were claustrophobic before this, coincidentally. It’s amazing how Percy can somehow bring out fears you didn’t know you had.

The times he uses whatever power he possesses to play with you like a spider with a fly trapped in its web are preferable. At least, you think, probing tenderly with your tongue the spot at the back of your mouth where you used to have a molar before Percy had shown you the glint of pliers and murmured for you to ‘be still now, sweetie, or it will hurt more - oh, don’t tremble like that, you’re making it awfully hard to concentrate--’.

“February,” you’d told him, and he’d laughed.

“Yes,” he’d said. “Valentine’s Day tomorrow, then? I’ll have to think of something special for us.”

The very words had sent a tingling shudder down your spine. You hadn’t bothered smiling for him - for someone who had gotten you where you were with a faux tilt of his eyebrows, with pretty lies wrapped in sugar, with promises he never intended to keep . . . he doesn’t like artifice. He’d told you, that first night you had found yourself bound and gagged and trapped, that he had never found you so pretty - and then he’d smiled at you and pinched your cheek hard enough to bruise and promised you that you were going to be wearing that expression rather a lot.

He’d been right.

The fear of what he was going to do must have crackled in the air; Percy’s eyes had gone half-lidded and he’d sighed, pleased, before he’d pressed a kiss onto your forehead and let the walls recede back to where they were supposed to be.

“Something very special,” he’d said, letting go of you; watching, amused, as you’d scrambled away from him.

You’d tried to ingratiate yourself to him at first; had tried to be well-behaved, not to snap and fight back at him, in the hope it would make him ease up. You’d learnt very quickly that there was no point in doing such a thing; it doesn’t matter if you struggle. Percy will treat you the same either way.

If anything, the outright shows of fear - the proof that you’re terrified of him - seem to please him more. The more scared you get the quicker, the sooner he usually ends the torment.

Unfortunately, that’s not exactly something you can pretend. Not with a man - a thing - that can sense your emotions on the air, that hungers for the terror that runs cold through your veins. You can pretend to shudder all you want - and you’d tried - but Percy just clicks his tongue and pulls you back to him and murmurs; “Well. That’s not going to do, is it?”

So he leaves you, that Friday the thirteenth of February, to stew in the fear of what a Valentine’s Day with a demon might entail.

You and Percy had begun to date, officially, at the beginning of January after meeting at a friend’s New Year party. Neither of you big drinkers (as it turns out, stimulants like alcohol have very little effect on a creature like Percy, but you had not known that at the time), you had found yourself feeling frazzled and frightened by all of the new people and the laughter and the whirling out-of-control dancing, and had been hiding out in that friend’s cloakroom amongst other people’s coats with a book you’d smuggled in in the pocket of your dress. Percy had found you there.

You know now you must have been a buffet; perhaps the most scared thing in the whole room, your anxiety leading him directly to you and setting your life on track for . . . this. But at the time he had recognised the battered old paperback in your hand and been all-too-eager to talk to you about it, smile on his face, his voice kind. You had thought him handsome - and when he’d told you he owned a bookstore, you think you fell in love a little bit right there and then. You’d shared a kiss at midnight and been found afterwards by the mutual friend who had invited you, who had effusively shared praise of the man - he’s magic, she’d promised, cured my insomnia with nothing more than a tea blend! Gave her a couple of nightmares for a few nights, but after that - poof! - and you had really thought . . .

You had really looked at Percival Thacker and thought; oh. There he is.

So of course, this wouldn’t be your first Valentine’s Day.

Your last Valentine’s Day, Percy had gone all-out for - after you’d admitted to him that you couldn’t afford much, that you hadn’t been dating that long, that you were nervous about it . . . He’d told you earnestly that he simply liked you so much, afterwards, and he’d wanted to show it - but of course, now you know his true nature, you know that the shame that must have come off of you in waves and the fear that he thought you cheap and the nervousness that you could not match his energy must have all been a veritable feast for him.

The gift of hindsight, you suppose.

So you see, you had a point of reference for what a Valentine’s Day with somebody you thought you might love would be like; you had that thought of roses and a fancy dinner and a trip to the ballet and a first edition of your favourite book. That’s what you’d thought a Valentine’s with Percy would be like, perhaps for the rest of your life.

And then he had shown himself to you, in all of his true colours, and there had been far more pressing concerns than making sure you remembered to budget enough to at least buy him a card.

But what he might do, now, as a ‘Valentine’s Gift’ . . . knowing how much he likes you crying, whimpering, begging and frightened out of your skull . . . the very thought of it makes you want to bury your head into the thin pillow and sleep the day away entirely. What a pity that he’s just as capable of getting to you whilst you’re sleeping as he is anywhere else.

You know that you’re feeding into what he wants by agonising over it; that he can probably feel your anxiety over what is going to happen to you from everywhere in the house, the force of it is so strong. But you simply cannot help yourself. Considering he’d been the first to admit, easy and smiling as ever, that his greatest flaw was a tendency towards laziness, he’s been ever-inventive when it comes to ways to make you feel like you’re going to die of a fear-induced heart attack.

The whole day, you feel yourself hovering on a precipice; your throat ready to close up at a moment’s notice, your entire psyche balanced on a fragile tightrope ready to snap. Every tiny sound from somewhere in the house makes you jump, sets you on edge, straining for the sound of Percy’s footfalls. The house is not always so noisy, of course - it bends to whatever Percy wants. Sometimes you wonder if this little room is even a part of the cramped little townhouse Percy lives in at all, or if it does not exist in some other dimension - but you are not permitted to step foot outside of it, so it does not really matter.

You even toy with the idea he’s going to do nothing. He’s going to let you stay here, stewing in might-have-beens and maybes, instead of letting it all build to a crescendo.

When you do hear his feet on the floorboards, the click of a lock . . . you scold yourself for thinking that at all. Such an outcome would have been far too kind for Percy.

He walks into the room with a smile on his face. You do not often see him without it; that soft-eyed, careful smile that had so enchanted you at first but has seemed to grow more and more mocking the more often he has used it as a weapon. The door clicks closed behind him, and though he does not touch the handle you hear the noise of locks clacking shut, one by one. Even if you tried to run - to overpower him and go for the door - you know that it would not open for you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says to you, with that mocking smile you hate so much. He makes a great show of looking around the room; the bare walls, the floorboards, this prison cell of a home that he has engineered to be your own personal hell. “Oh, this isn’t going to do at all.”

You’d had some thoughts about the idea of magic, before all of this. You’d always hoped it existed in some capacity - the problem, you suppose, with being a voracious reader and a fantasist - but whenever you had thought of it, you’d thought . . . Wands, or snapping fingers, or little incantations. Percy moves the world around him without blinking; the only feeling you get after he exerts himself to use a little of his power is a faint sickness in the pit of your stomach, the taste of iron lingering in the back of your throat.

And then there is a little table in the middle of your room; two chairs, and a tablecloth, and silverware glinting in the light.

“Well?” He asks, and your head bounces from the table and around to face him. In his arms, once more are a bouquet of roses - and you could cry, you could vomit, you could tear him into pieces. You recognise the soft rose hue of the tablecloth; the design of the chairs, the centrepiece in the middle of the table and the dozen red roses that Percy holds in his arms. “I thought we had such a wonderful time last year . . . we can’t quite replicate it, but I’ll do my best.”

It is exactly the same as last year - if last year’s Valentine’s had taken place in a jail cell. He takes your hand and guides you none-too-gently to the table in the middle of the room (it looks silly, there; the prison you call your life is too small for the ostentatious chairs and the dining table). Your eyes frantically scan over the chair and the table, just to ensure there are no secrets lying in wait there.

(A scorpion, ready to crawl from underneath a plate. Rotting meat, ready to give you the worst attack of emetophobia you’ve had in your life. Some kind of venomous spider on the chair, waiting to bite you and paralyse you and have its poison destroy you from the inside out).

You take your seat at the table - and nothing happens. You watch Percy warily as he takes his own seat, as he gently places the bouquet to one side - you’d been so rattled to see it, you realise, you hadn’t even taken it from his arms. He doesn’t say anything about it, though. Simply sighs and stretches, looking around your little bare room as if it is the restaurant you two were in only one year ago.

“I didn’t think we’d need a menu,” he tells you, with a small smile. “I thought we’d simply have everything we had last time.”

He’d ordered for you, last time - you’d felt so overwhelmed at the restaurant he’d made reservations at, by the class of people around you and the glimpse of the prices on the wine menu, that you’d been glad of it. Looking back, you know he did that on purpose - but at the time, you had only been able to gush about how generous he was.

There is no waiter to bring your food. There’s that iron again, the tang in the back of your throat - and then the plate of appetisers is before you, your glass full of viscous red wine. It looks far too much like blood, now, for you to want to drink it.

Through every course, you wait for the sting.

This cannot be all of it. There must be something more; something hiding behind the sighs of pleasure that Percy makes and the attempts to call back to conversations you’d had. He doesn’t seem to mind you have very little to say in return - he’s happy to talk about how his cat is doing, how the bookshop is faring under this cost of living crisis, a new book he bought last week and is enjoying--

But nothing comes. Nothing happens. For all intents and purposes, the two of you are simply reliving your first Valentine’s date - only this time, in a windowless room, after your boyfriend has kept you captive for months and brought you to the brink of death and manipulated you and used you and hurt you--

The food looks exactly the same on the plate; beautifully presented, and delicious. Your stomach rumbles in hunger, but the thought of what still might come flashes through your mind.

You can’t bring yourself to eat a thing.

“My compliments to the chef,” Percy chuckles, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “A pity you’ve barely eaten anything.”

“I’m not hungry,” you whisper, into the air between you, and Percy gives you a sympathetic look. How could you be hungry, when you’d feared everything you might put on your fork would turn to ashes or organs or worse in your mouth? When you’d spent the entire meal wondering about what he was going to do next, what he was going to say next?

He clicks his tongue, tutting at you sympathetically.

“Poor thing,” he says, voice dropping with that faux sympathy. “We can’t have you losing your strength, now. I’ll make sure you have your favourite tomorrow - just to see if we can tempt you into eating.” He leans forward, catching your chin in his hand, still smiling. “I’d hate for you to waste away into nothing.”

This close, you can see the slitted pupils of his eyes, and you know he must feel the way that you swallow. You’re so vulnerable like this - he could do anything to you, use this moment to break you in any way he chooses.

The moment passes. He lets go of you.

“Well,” he says, “that was pleasant, wasn’t it?” He sees you staring, helpless, and laughs. “Oh, sweetie. Did you think I would hurt you on Valentine’s Day? When you know how much I adore you? How I couldn’t bear to be without you?”

“It’s never stopped you before,” you whisper to him, a quiet, barbed little thing - and Percy lets you say it, and then throws his head back and laughs.

“Ah,” he says, “but I’m absolutely stuffed. You’re a meal all on your own. You’ve been terrified of what I might do the whole time! Anything else would have just been greed, I fear.”

You look up at him, barely daring to believe it. He’s really just going to leave? He’s going to take what he did from the meal, from the trembling edge of fear you’ve felt all day, and simply . . . let you think that was enough?

“Th-that’s it?” You ask, hating how small your voice sounds. You clench your fists atop the table cloth, the few bites of food that you did manage to get down churning in your stomach.

Percy tilts his head to the side, and then laughs again.

“How silly of me,” he says, and your throat constricts. “No, no. I have another present for you. I almost forgot!”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, crumpled, folded over and over. He unfolds it for you, and you see that it is a sheet torn from a newspaper - his smile does not budge as he leans over and places it before you on the table.

You take a moment before you look down at it. You don’t know what it would be, after all; and it would not be the first time something that has seemed perfectly harmless has turned out to be anything of the sort. Percy waits, patiently, and you finally bring yourself to look down and read the small, cramped letters.

That’s a photograph of you.

You stare up from the page, caught in mid-laugh, your dark hair blowing across your face. In the background is a sunny day at the park; it takes a moment for you to remember it being taken. It takes a while, now, to remember you had a life before these four walls.

There are other photos of you, too. One with your family. A baby photo, posed perfectly in a photographer’s studio. A picture of your graduating class, with you circled--

Your eyes scan desperately over the words. You can’t quite take it in. You try to read it properly, but your vision skims and sputters and spots, and only certain phrases make it through the haze of terror and confusion that you feel descending over you.

‘Missing for eight months’ . . . ‘Every effort has been made to locate her’ . . .‘Family have called off the search’ . . . ‘Presumed dead’ . . . ‘Memorial service to be announced’ . . .

That’s it.

They have been looking for you - apparently in all the wrong places. There’s something about a forest being combed over, a river being strained for a body. No mention of a townhouse owned by your boyfriend. No mention of a boyfriend at all.

They’ve been looking for you, and now they’re not. They’ve thrown you to one side; they’ve said ‘that’s enough, we’d rather just act as though she’s dead’. There’s nobody coming to save you.

You hadn’t realised how much the idea that someone might find you, that you could go back to your normal life one day, that people were out there looking for you had sustained you until you’d read in stark black and white that it wasn’t going to happen.

The future that stretches out in front of you now is simply Percy, and these four walls, and what it feels like to be afraid.

“Why do you look so frightened?” Percy asks, as you sit there, trembling. The table and the chairs and the remains of the dinner fade to nothing around you, and your legs buckle - before you know it, you are knock-kneed and awkward on those awful floorboards, the sheet of newspaper still crumpled in your hands. You can’t breathe.

Any hope of escape, any hope someone was looking for you, any thoughts that perhaps they’d find Percy’s little house and break it open until they found your prison cell - gone, like that. Nothing to think about. No hope to cling to.

And he’d called it a present!

He kneels down before you, reaching out - and his arms are wrapping around you, pulling you closer, holding you against him with a grip like a vice.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he murmurs, against the top of your head, as the tears refuse to fall and the certainty that you are either going to be stuck here until you die, or until he wrings you dry, washes over you. “Isn’t it good news?”

A kiss. From out of the corner of your eye, you see the red roses he had brought you; they’re on the floor now that the table and chair have been removed. A fat spider crawls from the inside of one of the roses, inching closer and closer to you both. Percy croons softly into your ear, fingers running through your hair.

Is there a point, you wonder, where you will stop being afraid? Where all of this will become background noise, and you’ll be a useless shell of a person? Because at this moment, with the thought of who-knows-how-long stretching on in front of you and all of the things that Percy could do to you, all of the ways he could fuck with your mind and your heart and everything in between--

You think that perhaps being a shell would be better. Percy clucks, rocking you against him like he’s trying to soothe the fear out of you, though both of you know it is the opposite--

“It’s wonderful news, isn’t it? We get to have the rest of your life together.”

#yandere oc #not sfw text #yandere for ts #writing #commissioned work #percy #oc posting

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