#they had their father living with them in that cabin. and he did nothing to help. a man who was supposed to protect his little girls.

[nestastits]

People hate Nesta for what happened in the cabin years while forgetting their literal father was living with them😐

[thetriumphantpanda]

baby, it's cold outside | joel miller

Summary | Patrolling with Joel is always easy, he's your friend after all, but when a snow storm forces you to stop halfway, you're both faced with feelings that you'd both rather ignore, but with nothing but time, talking about them is your only option.

Word Count | 4.2k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Explicit 18+. A snow storm and a cabin with a nice, warm fireplace. Unspecified age gap. Explicit smut - unprotected PiV (don't do this, pls be smart), oral sex (F), size kink if you squint, dirty talk, two idiots who love each other, some negative feelings towards the holidays but nothing else I can think of!

Authors Note | A huge thank you to the wonderful @hellishjoel for setting the 12 days of Pedro up and asking me to take part - this was so much fun to put together and I hope you all love it as much as I do!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for the divider!

Despite having lived in Wyoming for years now, the winters were still a surprise to you. Icy cold winds, frosted windows every morning, thick downfalls of snow almost daily and a struggle to get warm no matter how many layers you wore. Some would call it picturesque, and you suppose you could see it, everywhere you turned in Jackson at this time of year, even though it was against the backdrop of the end of the world, it looked like it could adorn the cover of any Christmas card or be the setting for any Christmas movie. It didn’t matter, because you hated it either way.

When the tree went up in the centre of town, and the lights got switched on, it only served to remind you how solitary you were. How you existed mainly entirely on your own. No family, barely any friends, always the talk of the gaggle of girls who would whisper to each other whenever you passed and start laughing to each other, or the boys who always wondered why instead of hanging around with people your own age, you opted to spend it alone, or with someone who was pushing sixty.

Because if there was a single person in this Godforsaken town that you could class as a friend, it was Joel Miller. Quiet, closed off, unapproachable until you chipped away at his hard exterior, just like you in so many ways, it was actually sickening really. You liked Joel, ever since Tommy had put you two together for patrols when Maria had given birth, it was like you’d found someone who finally understood your need to be alone.

Patrolling outside the walls gave you peace, let you leave your loneliness behind for a while, just you and the ground beneath your boots, the feeling that you were doing something wrong, were less of a person because of your lack of friends and relationships left behind at the gate. You’d proven yourself capable more than enough times for Tommy to realise you were an asset. You’d saved more than enough people with your good aim and quick trigger finger, been ruthless in getting rid of raiders who strayed too close to your safe haven, and he knew your need for solitude, which is why he trusted you on these longer routes, on the more complicated patrol rotations, the ones that would get you out of Jackson for a week.

You surmise that’s probably why he chose to pair you up with Joel. In the two years you’d patrolled together, you’d come to realise that he needed that solitude just as much as you did. A way to leave behind being a father at the gate and remind himself of exactly who he was before. Out here, walking side-by-side next to you, he wasn’t Ellie’s dad, he wasn’t the man who still woke up in cold sweats remembering the heavy weight of his dead daughter in his arms, or that man who had lost almost everyone he’d ever cared for along the way, he was just Joel. Joel, who was more comfortable cradling a rifle in his arms than he was his infant nephew. Joel, who preferred comfortable silence instead of filling the quiet with talk. Joel, who, even when you suspected he hated you at the start, would have protected you to the death no matter what.

You were similar, far more than you’d like to admit, and as the weeks and months had drawn on, and you’d moved into being more comfortable with each other, he really was one of those things you’d wanted for so long. A friend. Someone to rely on, someone to drink with at the end of a hard patrol route, someone who made sure you ate when it was the last thing on your mind, someone who fixed the hole in your roof and put new planks of wood on your porch when you almost fell through it one day, someone who confided in you about how hard he found being a parent again, someone who opened up to you when things started to sour with Ellie. A friend.

He was also someone, in the last six months, that you suspected wanted to be more than your friend. It had started small, with things any good friend would do. He would offer you his arm when you walked during the winter so you wouldn’t slip, started packing double lunch so he knew you’d eat when you’d go out together, but then it was the hand on the small of your back through town, or the way he’d sit close to you in the bar, knees knocking against yours just so he could put a hand on your knee to apologise for getting too close.

And it’s not like you didn’t see that in him either. For a man who was almost sixty, he was incredibly handsome, able to do unspeakable things on patrol that neither of you would talk about to anyone else, strong in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Sure, his hearing was shot in one ear, his middle soft with age, and his hair and beard peppered with grey hair, but Joel Miller was a sight.

But, what if you’d read his signals wrong? What if his kindness and that warm hand on your knee was just him being a Southern gentleman? You throw yourself at him and he doesn’t feel the same, what happens then? You lose one of the very few friends you’ve ever had, and that’s somehow worse than knowing you’ll never know what the feel of his skin is like under your touch or what it sounds like when he moans your name for you.

The patrol route is brutal this day, wind and snow making it hard to see anything in front of you. You and Joel had to shout loudly to each other in order to hear anything, so when you stumble across the cabin, halfway through the route, you both decide that it’s best to head inside, get warm and wait out the worst of the storm before carrying on. Safer that way, is what Joel said, but you think it’s got more to do with the cold on his joints than the safety. Even at your younger age, your bones were certainly aching.

The wind whips a flurry of snow into the abandoned cabin when Joel pushes the door open, ushering you inside quickly, shutting the door quickly behind the two of you before more snow can follow you in. He sets his rifle down near the door and his backpack on the worn, moth-eaten couch, kneeling in front of the fireplace.

This particular cabin is a regular stop on this patrol route, an agreement between the residents of Jackson who frequent it to keep it stocked with firewood during the cold season. You silently note to thank whoever had patrolled before you for stacking the fireplace so all Joel really needs to do is set fire to the scrunched paper dotted through the wood to get the warmth of the fire flooding the small front room.

“Reckon we’re here for the long run,” Joel grumbles, holding flat palms up to the flames to warm his hands, “Ain’t no way we’re walking anywhere in that.”

And he’s right, the light of the day is fading fast and even in daylight, the blizzard had been a nightmare to traverse. It’s not like you’re wanting to rush back though, you sometimes wish you could pack everything up and come out here for good, live in your solitude until the end of your days, but for now, just a few more nights away from the place that reminds you just how alone you are will do.

You settle down on the couch, trying to burrow further into the coat around your body, not bothering to take your gloves or your hat off until the flames of the fire are stronger.

“Come sit closer,” Joel murmurs, motioning with his hand for you to sit on the floor next to him, “Warm up a little.”

You slip down from the couch and scoot along the floor until you’re sat next to him. Joel reaches over and takes hold of your wrist, gently pulling off your glove, “They’re damp,” He states, reaching for your other hand to do the same, “Take your coat off too, you’ll get a chill otherwise.”

Working to unzip the front to pull it off, whilst Joel throws an extra few pieces of wood on the fire, you settle a little bit closer to the flames, feeling the warmth start to seep through your other layers. He stands, taking your coat and his, hanging them on either end of the fireplace to dry out a little, then he sits back down next to you, although a little closer than he had been before, so close that you can feel the heat of his body next to you.

You take a moment to steal a look up at him, his body larger than yours, towering a little next to you, but in the glow of the flames he’s fucking breathtaking. You get lost in tracing his jaw and the hook of his nose with your eyes that he’s turning his head to face you before you can turn away from him. He catches you with that small smile that is saved only for his family normally, Ellie, Tommy, sometimes Maria, and now, more often, you. So you smile back at him, let the warmth lick through your body, and before you realise it, he’s leaning his, broad shoulders bumping yours as his face gets closer, and God, it would be so easy to let him do it, move your face towards him, press your lips to his and burn it all to hell, but as he inches closer, that pit is opening in your stomach, bubbling anxiety and dread, so as he inches closer, you have to stop him.

You bring one of your fingers up to press against his lips gently, watching as he purses them against your touch a little, but then his eyes open when you speak, so softly, so quietly that he almost missed your plea, “Please don’t.”

It’s like you’ve burnt him with the way he not only drags his face from you, but his whole body, putting so much distance between the two of you that you almost cry. He clears his throat, running his hand over his face, “Right,” He mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” You insist, not meeting his eyes though, “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Stupid of me,” He shakes his head, “Just thought-” He sucks in a breath and pushes it out on a sigh, “Thought maybe you’d feel the same, but it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, Joel,” You sigh, finally turning to him, “It’s okay.”

“Makes sense,” He shrugs, eyes boring holes into the flames in front of you, “I’m old, too old for you to want me.”

“It has nothing to do with you being too old for me Joel, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.”

You expect him to drop it, like he often does with these kinds of conversation, the ones that involve feelings, but he doesn’t.

“Then what is it?”

“Well, it has nothing to do with your grey hairs or your creaky fucking knees, that’s for sure.”

He’s looking at you with a look that says to get fucked, hurry up, tell him the real reason for all this.

“I could be shit in bed for all you know.”

“Well that’s easy to rectify, just need a little practice.”

It makes you snort, “Can we be fucking serious for a minute, Miller?”

“You’re the one who said it first.”

“What happens when it goes tits up?” You ask, “When you get bored of me, or realise I’m not what you thought I was, what happens then?” He opens his mouth to respond to you, but you beat him to it, “I lose my best friend, that’s what happens, the only person in this Godforsaken world that I have, and I don’t want that, I don’t want a world where I’m without you.”

“Who says it’s going to go tits up?” He counters, “Baby, I’m old, I ain’t gonna go running off, I just want somethin’ good, somethin’ happy, and I want that with you,” Just like you had done before, he starts talking again before you can add something, “Put your faith in somethin’, darlin’,” He’s moving back towards you now, shifting closer, “Put your faith in, me.”

It sounds so easy when he says it like that, because you had once before, without even realising. Let him in, let him get close, to know everything you’d been through, share everything he’d been through. You let him sit with you late at night in the summer, strumming his guitar on your porch, he lets you share his whiskey when you need it.

“I’m still gonna be your best friend,” He urges, that warm palm resting on your knee, “That ain’t gonna change, we’re just gonna add to it.”

And for some reason, it snaps, all of your good judgement and everything that was holding you back. His face is cradled in your palms before you know it, your body straddling his lap as your mouth slants over his, a surprised gasp swallowed by your mouth as his lips open against yours, his hands coming to rest on the globes of your ass through your jeans, pulling you closer, chest flush to chest as you soak this in.

Hands dropping to the collar of his shirt, you start to slowly unbutton it, mouth still against his, tongue tasting him as your fingers push button after button through their holes until you can push it from his shoulders, drag his arms from it, drag his undershirt from it’s place tucked into his jeans.

Joel gasps when your hands make contact with the skin under it, fingers still slightly icy from the cold, but that too is swallowed by your mouth, as is the moan that drags from your throat when he bucks his hips into yours.

He pulls away from your lips, forehead pressed to yours as you both breathe deeply, “Don’t seem shit in bed so far.” He chuckles.

“I was fucking with you Joel,” You smile, punctuating it with a roll of your hips into his, “I’m a delight in bed.”

“Prove it.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“This is the floor Joel,” Which earns you a squeeze to your ass, “I’ve never fucked someone on the floor before.”

Before you know what’s happening, he’s flipped you over, your back pressed to the dusty wooden floor, his body looming over yours, fingers picking the button of your jeans apart, pulling the zipper down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down your legs, underwear along with them too, before they’re thrown behind him somewhere, forgotten as he parts your knees, legs spread, exposed to him, and you think you might die from the way he looks at you. You bury your head into your shoulder, trying to escape his gaze as he drags his thumb along your folds, growling when he feels how wet you are just from his mouth on yours.

You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of his feet hitting one of the armchairs behind him as he lowers his chest to the floor, hands pulling at your hips, your back dragging across the wooden floor as his mouth presses a single, feather-light kiss to your clit. The smallest of touches to your body has your back arching into him.

How long has it been? Not since you fucked someone, because in the grand scheme of things that hasn’t been too long. No, how long has it been since someone actually made you feel good? Years, you think. Too long. Too long since sex was anything more than just stress relief, pressed against the brick wall by the Tipsy Bison, letting someone fuck you so you could feel something, giving them the bragging rights of fucking the town outcast in return.

This is different. So different. Joel is slow with it, parting you in front of his face with his thumbs, tongue swirling through the slick you’re not even embarrassed about now, tasting you, drinking you in, before he drags his perfect mouth up, lapping gently at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Taste so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He coos against your skin, his praise making you preen, hips chasing the feeling of his mouth on you, he chuckles at your desperation, “How long’s it been since someone made you feel good, huh?”

Your fingers tangle in the curls on his head, dragging him back down to your cunt to silence him, “Too long.” Is all you offer as he feasts on you.

Tongue swirling, lips suckling, fingers digging into the skin of your hips, dragging you slowly but surely to the edge, the fire in your blood no match for the fire against your skin. He’s fucking good at this, knows exactly how to listen to your moans, the way you pull at his hair when he does something you like, collecting the little gasps and hip movements until he’s working a pattern on your pussy that makes you feeling like you’re going to explode, combust, maybe even die a little.

“Don’t stop,” You urge, breathless, sheen of sweat settling across what skin of yours is exposed to the flames near to you, “Gonna - fuck Joel - gonna cum.”

That’s when he pushes two of his fingers into you. Hooking them up inside of your cunt, your legs dropping open further than you thought possible as he works you and works you. You’ve gone quiet, letting out only short breathes when holding them in makes your head light, fingers so tight in his hair that you think it’s probably hurting.

Then, you think you find God, right there on the dirty, dusty floor, when the coil snaps inside of you. Your back arches off the floor, thighs clenched around Joel’s head as his tongue continues the flicks against your clit, ignoring the high-pitches whines of too much, Joel listening instead to the movement of your legs, the way your entire body convulses until you truly are spent for him.

Joel pushes himself up onto his knees, dragging his undershirt over his head, pulling his belt through its loops as you’re sitting up, dragging the upper portion of your clothes off, naked on the floor for him, the flames from the fire keeping you warm, even if your nipples do pebble and peak against the cold.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel breathes out as your hand settles on your pussy, fingers dragging through the slick to lazily move over your clit, “I wish you could see yourself right now, baby,” He crones, pushing down his jeans, cock springing free, immediately clasped in his fist, movements slow as he watches you touch yourself, “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

His body falls forward, coverings yours, but this isn’t what you want. Hand on his chest, you’re pushing him back, “Wanna ride you, Joel.” You whine.

Like a kid on Christmas, he’s on his back in seconds, jeans and underwear pooled around his ankles because if you’re not sinking down on him in the next few seconds, he’s going to scream. You settle your thighs on either side of his hips, his cock, heavy and throbbing against his stomach. He’s watching you, as you take the base of him in your hand, line him up with that aching core of yours, head notching into you, where you just keep him for a moment, let him stretch you as you ground yourself with palms on his chest, sinking down, inch by inch until he’s fully buried inside you, warmth wrapping around him, just like the warmth from the fire against his skin.

You start moving your hips, his cock so deep in you he swears if he put a palm on your lower belly, he’d feel himself through your skin with the way you’re grinding against him, head thrown back, mouth dropped open. He wishes he could take a photo of this. He doesn’t think he’s seen a nicer sight in his life.

“It’s a lot, ain’t it baby?” He coos, hands on your hips, guiding your movements, he knows he’s big, been told enough times through his life, but the way you’re slow, getting used to him inside him, has him on the verge of spilling inside you already.

“So big, Joel.” You whine, leaning back now, hands on his knees which have moved up, his feet planted on the floor now, and God alive, if he thought you were a sight before, you’re a fucking masterpiece now as you start bouncing on his cock.

He can’t help himself, he is only a man after all, his hands trailing up the curves of your side, taking hold of your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, listening to the way you sing for him. Somehow, he finds core strength from somewhere, pushes himself up, one hand behind him to prop him where he is, as his mouth sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling that pebbled peak with his tongue, your arm wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself against him, hips still working against his, finger tangling in the curls near his neck, keeping his mouth anchored right where it is.

Joel pulls off you, a wet smack from his lips as he looks up at you with those beautiful brown orbs, “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” He praises, “So tight around me, like you were made for me.”

“Wanna feel you,” You moan, head dropping against his shoulder, “Wanna feel you come for me.”

He’s wrapping his arms around your back, dragging you down with him as he rests himself back on the floor, your chest pressed to his as he finally takes control. Feet planted on the floor with your teeth digging into his shoulders, he fucks up into you, the cabin filled with nothing but breathy moans and a lewd smack of skin as he pounds himself into you. In an ideal world he’d focus on making you come again, feeling you clench around his cock as you fall apart would be incredible, but he thinks there will be time for that later.

He’s so fucking close, you can feel it, the way his fingers are gripping t every inch of skin they can reach, the way his hips are faltering and how your name is more of a feature on his lips. You let out a surprise squeal as he flips you both, your back now to the ground as his cock slips out of you, his fist replacing the wet heat of your cunt as the warmth of his cum splashes across your lower belly, a howl, not unlike an animal, falling from his mouth as he paints you, claims you as his own with those ropes of cum across your skin.

When all is said and done, and he’s taken in the sight of your skin splashed with his spend, the two of you lying in front of the fire, one blanket dragged from the bed on the floor to soften the harsh wood, another pooled around both your hips, this feels like home. Both you and Joel, led on your side, watching each other, and the flickering light of the fire bathes you both in orange, in warmth.

His hand traces your face, thumb dragging across your bottom lip as he leans in to kiss you. Hours later, with harsh wind and snow still swirling outside, he brushes a thumb across your nipple, your hand reaching down between you to find him hard again. He puts you on your back this time, creaky knees be damned, slides his cock into your aching cunt once more, fucks you slowly, the entirety of his weight pressed against you. That orange glow almost convincing you that this was before, when things were normal, romantic even, as his lips leaves tiny bruises across your skin.

When he’s marked you once more as his, cum splashed from your pussy to your tits, he lies back down, the broad expanse of his back to the dying embers of the fire, your back pressed to his front, his arm snaked under your neck, urging you to sleep, and as you drift off, Joel’s hot breath against the skin of your ear, his other arm draped loosely over your waist, you pray that the snow is just as bad in the morning, because if it were possible, you want to return even less now, want to remain huddled next to Joel, on the floor, for the rest of your life.

[misctf]

Hunting for City Boys

“Ah reckon they went this way!”

Scott could hear the heavy footsteps and thick southern drawl of his pursuers. His back was pressed against a tree and he did his best to control his breathing. How the fuck did it get this out of hand? It started with the damn car. Of all the places for their car to break down, it had to be in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere. No internet signal, no GPS, nothing. Prior to leaving, Scott asked Will to make sure the car was ready to go. And Will reassured him that his father’s fancy BMW was more than ready to handle the drive across the state. Of course, Will insisted they take a shortcut to make better time.  And for what? To get to the cabin before the rest of their frat bros? In hindsight, it wasn’t worth it.

“Oh, Ah see ’im! There he is!”

Scott felt his heart sink. Did they really see him? No... not him. Will. Scott heard Will cry out in pain, followed by a thud.

“Nice shot, Clay. Y’all wanna keep lookin’ fer the other fella?”

“Ah reckon we ought to git this one back to the house. The other fella won’t git too far.” Clay said, “Besides, we don’t want ’im wakin’ up before we get home.”

Scott could hear the engines of their four-wheelers rev up. And soon enough, they peeled away through the thick forest and back to wherever they came from. When Scott peered around the tree, he realized he was alone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Scott cursed, “This can’t be happening.”

He checked his phone again. No signal. He ran a hand through his matted light brown hair. The chase had left him worse for wear. His jeans were torn from running through the forest, while dirt and small cuts covered his hands. Even his white sweater was stained with mud. He quickly removed it, revealing a tight-fitting t-shirt that hugged his lean body nicely. He sighed. It would only be a matter of time before they started searching for him again. Those two fuckers. They came out of nowhere, driving on their stupid four wheeler. At first, Scott thought they were going to help them. It would’ve been clear to anyone that the two privileged, preppy frat guys had no idea what they were doing with the car. And despite Will being a straight As engineering major, his knowledge on car maintenance was lacking. As was Scott’s. Wasn’t like they ever really needed to learn anyway. But it was too late to worry about that now. Scott needed to figure how to get out of this mess.

“If they have a house,” Scott thought, “They might have a phone, or a car, or some way to get out of here.” He took a deep breath. He could follow the tracks of the four-wheeler back. But what happened if he got there and there were more of them? He sighed. He’d take the risk.

_______

Scott wasn’t sure how long he walked until he arrived at his destination. He spent some time hiding behind trees and bushes as his pursuers resumed their search for him. But somehow, he made it to the house undetected. Unlike the mansion his family occupied, this house (if Scott could even call it that) wasn’t much to look at. The home sits on a gravel path that winds through overgrown weeds and brambles, leading to a weathered structure that looks like it's been standing for decades. Its wooden siding is chipped and peeling, with patches of faded paint barely clinging to the surface. Scattered furniture and empty beer bottles littered the overgrown grass of the front yard.

“In and out. Find Will, find a phone, and bounce.” Scott whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. To the best of his knowledge, those fuckers were still patrolling the forest.

With a rush of adrenaline, Scott stealthily approached the front door. When he got inside, he gagged. The living room is a cluttered space with a mix of mismatched, well-worn furniture. An old plaid sofa, sagging in the middle, sits opposite a heavy wooden coffee table covered in a layer of grime and strewn with empty beer cans and fast-food wrappers. The walls are adorned with faded hunting trophies and old, family photos, framed in crooked, mismatched frames. A faint, smoky odor permeates the air, hinting at years of cigarettes smoked indoors, mingling with the pervasive smell of old wood and dust.

“Fucking pig sty.” Scott mumbled, maneuvering through the old home, “Come on, there has to be a phone or something.” But his search wasn’t all too successful, “Y’all can’t be serious, what kinda folks don’t got a phone?” Scott froze at the sound of the drawl leaving his lips “What the fuck?” He whispered, his voice returning to normal, “Shit, I’m losing it. Focus Scott.”

But there was no phone. Or car keys. Or even a radio. He took a deep breath, gagging more as the stale air filled his lungs.

“Alright, so I ain’t gonna be able to reach nobody. But where on Earth is Will?” This time, Scott barely registered the southern drawl that infected his words. Instead, he found himself focused on the basement stairwell. He gulped, “Maybe Will’s down there.” He whispered.

Scott started down the stairs. The smell that permeated his nose was more intense than the one upstairs. It caused the young man’s eyes to water and he felt like he needed to turn around to get fresh air. But Scott knew he needed to be quick. Find Will, get out of there. Head back the way they came until the got cell service. But his train of thought was shattered when he made it to the bottom of the stairwell.

“Will?” Scott asked, gazing at the figure restrained to the chair, “Oh god, Will?”

“Scott, that you?” The man said in a thick country accent, “Scott, come on now, you really gotta help me out here. Please, I’m beggin’ ya!”  

The man in the chair had very few similarities to Will. Or at least to the Will that Scott knew. Where Will’s toned abdominals once were, a small beer belly was jutting out. His stubble had darkened, while his dark locks had been shaved away and covered with a ball cap. His body hair was more obvious now, leaving him lightly dusted from head to toe.

“Will, good Lord, what in the world did they do to ya?” Scott’s mind raced when he realized he was once again speaking in a southern accent, “I cain't, for the life of me, stop talkin' like this! What in tarnation’s goin' on?” Scott’s hand shot to cover his mouth, but when he made contact with his newly grown stubble, he jumped.

“It’s happenin’ to you too, ain’t it? I reckon it is.” Will mused, “It’s the smell, I tell ya. Gets in your head and messes with ya a bit.”

Scott’s eyes widened in terror. And for the first time, he started to really understand his situation. As he looked down at his own body, he could see his stomach starting to push out into a small gut. Simultaneously, small hairs started to poke out from under his collar.

“No, that just ain’t possible.” Scott whispered in disbelief, “Will, we gotta get outta here, and right quick.” He ran over to his friend and began undoing the binds around his hands. All the while, Scott tried to ignore the itchiness of his new beard.

“I tried to put up a fight too, Scott. I reckon I did. But after spendin’ some time down here, I just went on and accepted it.” Will continued. Scott watched as his friend’s eyes dulled, “Ain’t no need for fancy degrees or gettin’ all dressed up. Just a good ol' nice, simple life."

“Will, listen here, you need to focus now.” Scott said, undoing the final bind, “There’s gotta be a way to fix this.” But Will shook his head and without a second thought, tackled Scott to the ground. Scott looked up at his friend in terror, trying to wriggle out from beneath his firm grasp, “Will! Lemme go, gosh darnit!”

“Well what do we have here?” Scott’s heart sank as he heard the voice of their pursuers flood the room, “Billy! What’re you doin’ strattlin’... Scott?” Clay shook his head, “Naw Scott ain’t a good name for a good ol’ southern boy, ain’t it?” He grinned, “We’ll think of somethin’ but go on now and finish the job, Billy!”

Scott’s eyes widened in terror as Billy nodded. And before Scott could stop it, he found his face in Billy’s rank armpit. The bush of moist pit hair tickled Scott’s nose, and the intensity of Billy’s country B.O. filled his nostrils. He wanted to yell out and beg them to stop, but when he opened his mouth, he only breathed in more of Billy’s stench. For poor Scott, it soon became unbearable. And as the laughter of his captors filled the air, Scott’s world went black.

_________

“We ain’t got all day, Billy!” Scott shouted from the driver’s side, “Git in the darn truck already.”

“Aww Cletus, I’m sure sorry. I went back for the gin.” Billy said, jumping into the passenger seat, “We got a long ride ahead of us.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Scott- now Cletus groaned, “Just don’t be tellin’ me about no new shortcuts. I ain’t too keen on goin’ through anything like this again.” He looked over at Billy, who was chugging the bottle of gin. He sighed, “I can’t stay mad at you though.” Sure, his upper class life was gone. And he could barely string together an intelligent sentence. His vocabulary was oversimplified and any education past the eighth grade was absent from his mind. Certainly, folks from his prior social circles wouldn’t tolerate his cigarette smoking, beer chugging, and crude jokes. Cletus sighed. His life as Scott was over, “Well, Billy, you ready?” His hand slowly wrapped around Billy’s cock and he gave it a few tugs. Billy moaned and bucked his hips, only for Cletus to stop, “I knew that’d get your attention. Besides, you got plenty more of that comin’, y’know. Especially if we go along with what Clay’s sayin’.”

Billy nodded, lifting his arm and taking a deep whiff, “Y’all think they’ll recognize us?” Cletus shook his head. There was no way their former frat bros would recognize them.

“Soon enough, they won’t even recognize their ownselves.” Cletus replied, taking a whiff of his own pits, “Now c’mon. We got a long drive ahead of us.”

[wlntrsldler]

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again.

"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"

There was a bite in the air, as there always was when the summer began to fade and fall began to creep up at Camp Half-Blood. It happened every year, at least for the past three years you've called Camp Half-Blood your home.

Luke sat beside you on the hard, dirt floor, looking up at the green of Thalia's pine tree. The summer campers knew of her legend, but it was the year-rounders like you and Luke who understood her sacrifice best. There was a feeling of guilt and gratitude that engulfed all of you, like the protection Thalia blanketed over the campgrounds. You were thankful that demigods had a place to feel safe, but it came at the cost of a life. Thalia should be here.

"Of course she knew," Luke replied, unconsciously yanking out the blades of grass that flourished between the cracks in the floor. "She's your sister."

"Yeah, but do you think she knew I chose to love her?" You clarified, turning your head to face him. You did this every year, you and Luke at the foot of Thalia's tree once the summer campers all left for the year. “I mean yeah, I had to love her because she’s my sister, but do you think she knows that I would’ve chosen to love her even if she wasn’t? I feel like I never told her that. We always fought.” 

Each year you studied Luke and noted the things that were different. He's older now. His arms were more defined, muscles beginning to form on his otherwise lanky frame. He'd grown taller in the last few months and his body was adjusting to his new height. The pants he wore all of last summer were discarded a few months ago. They stopped short on his ankles and Luke decided that it was time to let them go. 

Another bead was added to his necklace, three wooden beads clanking against each other, just like yours, when he moved his body too quickly. A new bracelet adorned his wrist given to him by a young girl in the Hermes cabin before she left to go back to Virginia for the year. Luke had a collection of bracelets stashed in his bedside drawer. It was a reminder of all the demigods he wanted to protect. Some became painful reminders of the ones he couldn't.

Luke pursed his lips, "Sisters fight. I don't think she took it personally."

Each year you studied Luke and treasured the things that stayed the same. He still had the same smile as he always did, bringing you back to when you and Thalia first met him all those years ago– just three kids fighting for your lives all on your own. You and Luke were the same age, him only your senior by a few weeks, but he took the protector role seriously. Luke was your safe place before Camp Half-Blood. 

His curls were the same, especially in the mornings when he first gets out of bed; all wild and unruly, just like how he is when he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some people say it's because he's the son of Hermes so mischief ran through his veins, but there was nothing about Luke that mirrored his father. He was too good to be like the gods.

"I just wish my last words to her weren't that," You uttered, a bitter taste in your mouth as you replayed your last conversation with Thalia. In the final stretch of your journey to Camp Half-Blood, you and Thalia got into an argument. In hindsight, it was petty, a disagreement that any older and younger sister would have, but it felt big at the moment. You didn't speak to her for two days. And then, in the blink of an eye, there was a blinding light, and suddenly, your little sister vanished.

You don't even remember what the fight was about anymore.

"You need to forgive yourself," He said, flicking away the blades of grass he had in between his fingertips, "This wasn’t on you."

He said this every year, yet it never felt rehearsed. It always felt genuine when Luke said it. You wondered if he got annoyed at how you brought this up each year, this never-ending feeling of guilt that you didn't turn around to see if Thalia was behind you, that you couldn't protect your little sister, but Luke was patient with you. If it bothered him that you thought about it often, he didn't show it.

"Sometimes it feels like it is," You whispered, watching a singular pine fall from a branch. You like to think that Thalia did these things to let you know that she's listening. "Our dad hasn't talked to me since."

Luke clenched his jaw, wiping his hand on the fabric of his cargo pants. His warm palm took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "You're better off."

"Maybe."

"You are," He said, clearing his throat. His chest felt heavy as he spoke. "I have to tell you something."

You turned your hand over, lacing your fingers together. Holding Luke's hand always felt right, even when you were fourteen and he had to drag you away to safety from the monsters who were out to get you; even when you were fifteen being woken up by the nightmares caused by the empty Zeus cabin, a chilling reminder that your sister was supposed to be there; even when you were sixteen and began to take on more responsibilities at camp despite your protests. "What is it, Luke?"

"I have a quest," He admitted. He'd been keeping this from you for days. He was meant to embark on this journey today, but he pleaded with his father to give him until tomorrow to begin. He knew the day the summer campers left was hard on you. 

Your stomach dropped. Luke had been waiting for a quest from his father for years. You watched him fall into a pit of despair every time a camper who'd been at camp for a shorter period of time got a quest and returned with the glory of the strongest and bravest champions. You knew Luke wanted the opportunity to prove himself to his father. This quest was it, but it didn't mean that you were enthusiastic about the idea. "When do you leave?"

"In a few hours."

"Oh."

"Are you upset?"

"No," You said, then paused. You thought about it. Luke let you think in silence, rubbing his thumb along your skin. "Yes, but I can't do anything about it. I can't stop it."

"Say the word and I will, you know that," Luke rebutted, staring at you now. "I won't go if you don't want me to."

"Luke," You sighed, "You can't deny the gods."

"For you, I'd try to." Sometimes Luke said things that worried you. You'd always been told that your allegiance should be to the gods, your parents. Sometimes you felt differently, but you never said it out loud, but Luke had no problem doing it. He made it clear that his allegiance was to the people he loved, to you. 

"You should go," You said, ignoring the shake in your voice. It was tempting to tell him to stay; Tell him to be content to live a quiet life in the safety of these grounds, to be content with the glory he received from being the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, as the best swordsman at camp. But Luke craved more to life than this, you knew that. He needed more than another notch on his belt from Capture the Flag. He deserved more. He deserved a father who cared about him. Maybe this quest is the key to giving him exactly what he needed. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from that.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." The lie burned your tongue. While some demigods returned victorious, some never returned at all. The thought of it made a chill run down your spine. It made Luke flinch.

He wrapped his arms around you. The position was awkward, but neither of you cared. When you were younger, his curls tickled the side of your cheek when you hugged him. You used to be able to look him in the eye back when you were the same height. You used to be able to memorize the features on his face; the crinkles by the side of his eyes that would appear when he'd smile, eyelashes brushing against the stray hairs of his eyebrows; full cheeks dusted with the faintest shade of pink from the beating sun or the wind chills; a crease under his lips that cast a shadow on his chin.

Now that you're older, his curls fell against your temple when he held you like this. His face was thinner, jaw more defined and cheeks hollow, like his youth was being drained from him each year. But his heart remained the same. A steady thump against your own, a beat that became synonymous with home. 

“I feel like this is a test,” He murmured, shaking as he spoke. He’ll blame it on the wind if you asked, but he knows that his words would fall flat. You always did know when things felt wrong with him. Sometimes he thought that you knew him better than he knew himself. Luke licked his lips, “Like he’s expecting me to fail and prove what he’s known all along.” 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what the gods think of me,” You said, looking up at him. Luke was staring at the sky, jaw rigid as he fought back the tears. There were only a handful of things that made Luke emotional– talking about his father was one of them. He used to cry when he talked about May, too, but now when someone asks about his mother, his tone turns robotic. He recited her fate like a broken record, waiting for the inevitable looks of pity from the onlookers. You brushed your thumb along his jaw, “Luke?” 

“Hm?” His eyes darted to yours, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he studied your features. Luke always knew you were beautiful, but sometimes when he was this close to you, it knocked the breath out of his lungs for a moment, like he couldn’t believe you were real. 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what they make me out to be,” You repeated, holding his face in the palm of your hand, “And yet you never believe it for yourself.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d called him out on his hypocrisy more times than he could count. You were right, though. He did always tell you that the opinions of the gods didn’t matter, not when they didn’t know you like he knew you, not when they were too preoccupied in their own world to realize that you were the greatest thing they created. 

“You are more than what your father thinks.” 

He wanted to believe you, he really did, but all his life he’d been told that he was destined for something great. And yet the things he’d been able to accomplish so far seem so miniscule, irrelevant, in the context of the gods. He craved more. 

When Luke was a child, May Castellan used to mumble the same phrase over and over again. He didn’t think much of it then, nothing that his mother said usually made any sense to his nine-year-old self anyway, but the more time he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the clearer her words became. Luke was destined for something, it’s in the cards, it’s in the hands of fate. This quest might be it, the first step to reaching eternal glory. 

There are times though, during moments like this, with you beside him, when he thinks that he’ll be fine not reaching eternal glory. He can live out his life happily with just this; you and him at the foot of Thalia’s tree, with you telling him he’s more than what the gods want him to be. After all, he’d give up eternal glory if it meant being with you. 

“You’re gonna be okay without me around?” He teased. For years, it had always been you and Luke. It was a type of co-dependence that made Chiron and Mr. D's eyebrows raise. They found it dangerous. You overheard them talking in the Big House about it once, how unnatural it was for two demigods to choose each other despite the dangers of it. You joked that it was a trauma bond of sorts, but you and Luke both knew that it was more than that. Neither of you said it out loud, though, both too scared to ruin whatever this was.

“No, probably not,” You confessed. Your words took him by surprise. He was expecting you to join his teasing, but he found no trace of banter in your tone. You bit your bottom lip, “But you’re gonna come back, so I’ll be okay. I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 

Luke couldn’t help but frown at your words. He knew you were right like you always were, but he didn’t like the idea of things changing. So much in his life moved with the tides, and up until he met you, he was fine with it. But the idea of the two of you changing, the idea of one day not having this, not having you, well, Luke didn’t think he could stomach the idea. His lips hovered over the crown of your head, almost touching you but not quite, “Not us, though. It will always be us.” 

Luke didn’t know what he was destined to do, what prophecy the gods and the Fates had in store for him, but the only thing he was sure of was you. And that was never going to change if he could help it.

[mrkeatingsblazer]

The Prophecy [Oh, Was It Punishment] Part Two

Apollo x Child of Hermes! Reader

Part One Part Two Part Three

It has been six months and seven days. Six months and seven days since the war against Gaia. Six months and seven days since Rachel has made a prophecy. Six months and seven days since Lord Apollo has been missing. Not even his children have heard a whisper from the God, not even a glimpse in a dream and while Demi-Gods are used to being ignored by their parents, it is never to this extent; it is never with this God.

You’ve found yourself with the three Apollo campers a lot, trying to comfort them during such a peculiar and unknown time. No child should have to worry for their parent. Will Solace especially has taken the blunt of the hardship. Being so young and taking care of both the wounded from the war and his cabin since the Battle of Manhattan has taken a toll on the kid. You find yourself relating to the younger boy immensely. When Luke left and you were finally claimed, Chiron made you the head of the Hermes cabin. Though unlike you, who has been out of camp more often than not and was allowed to appointed the Stolls the title of Co-heads, Will has been burdened with being alone with his responsibilities since he was 13. You watch him now, folding and unfolding bandages repeatedly out of a nervous habit. The frown on his face was subtle but still there. He could have been finished up with inventory an hour ago but chose not to.

“I think we’re done Solace,” you say from atop the infirmary counter, letting your feet swing back and forth.

“You can head to dinner, I’m fine here. Thanks for the help,” his tired voice mumbles in response.

“Kid, you’ve rewrapped that one bandage like 8 times now, I think it's been wrapped enough,” you say quirking your brow.

Will sighs, placing the bandage down before turning to you, “will you stop it with the kid thing, you’re only 2 years older than me.”

“2 and a half,” you point at him with a scalpel that was lying beside you and smirk, “and I’ll have you know I’m a legal adult William.” He looks you up and down and snorts. His expression quickly converts back downtrodden, as if that momentary joy was a mistake. Along with the fact that his father is gone M.I.A, camp has been more depressing than usual. Kids were going missing, and no one understood why; one of these kids being your little brother and Will’s best friend, Cecil. You watch as he shuffles around like a stray kitten, you’d never pity him not when you can relate. Hopping from the counter, you walk over to him and seize his arm, yanking him towards the door. It was a comical sight, with Will being almost 2 heads over you.

“[reader]- Hey!” he gently tries to get out of your grasp but fighting two wars made your grip nothing less than steel. You continue to push the boy towards the door

“Don’t even Solace,” you scold as he tries again to get away from you, “we will be going to dinner and after that we will be going to the campfire whether you like it or not.” you yank open the infirmary door and shove him out, “and hey, maybe a certain son of Hades will be there,” you smirk as the blonde turns bright red. He grumbles, rubbing his arm but compiling and following you to the dining pavilion. It was adorable to see the kid with his crush, especially due to who it was on. You’ve known Nico since he was an annoying but excitable little 10-year-old and Will even longer, neither of them have had a good childhood, most demi-gods never do. In a way, you were living vicariously through them. You did that a lot. With Annabeth who got with Percy, your old crush, Piper and Jason, Hazel and Frank. You couldn’t help but wish you had what they had or in the case of the former, who they had.

You remember your days on the Argo. When there were no battles or group meetings, you were subjected to sit and watch the love emulating around you. For a while you thought the countless couples around you meant something, that because they were all members of the crew and got together, that for sure meant you were to get with the last single member, Leo. He thought so too. After his little thing with Hazel, that even now you don’t try to understand, you felt as though something was forming between the two of you. At one stage you found yourself hanging off him more than you were around Percy and Annabeth. You couldn’t help but be attracted to his mind, his creativity, his light. Your two best friends encouraged the blooming relationship between the two of you, even with Percy not liking Leo a whole lot, and so did the rest of the crew.

Everything changed after he came back from Ogygia. He came to you first after he returned, making you feel special in a sort of pitiful way. Expecting a grand reunion, you were instead greeted by his starry eyes as he spoke about another girl- no not a girl, a Goddess, who had him returned to you utterly smitten. Your heart broke as he told you he was planning to find her again. When you were given the truth by Eros, it made sense in the end. Leo being sent to Calypso was the Fates way of ensuring you remained loveless and killing him was just a way for them to remain cruel.

You sat through dinner at the Hermes table, which was smaller than it ever has been in years. Connor was beside you flinging peas at Clovis who would jolt at the impact before dozing off once more. Nico Di Angelo was sitting at the Apollo table, next to a blushing and, surprisingly, flirting Will Solace. You sighed looking around at all the missing campers, be it they left for college, died during the wars or as of late, were lost to Gods knows where. Even the rising moon seems dimmer than it should have been. You wonder if that was on purpose, was it Lady Artemis’ way of showing her sadness for her twin brother? Was she also in the dark as much as all of us?

By the time the campfire rolled around, you just wanted to retire to your cabin, but chose not to, for the sake of your sibling, Will Solace and yourself. As Austin was doing his cover of ‘My Sweet Lord’ by George Harrison, you heard rustling coming from the forest behind you. At first you passed it off as nothing more than a noisy nymph. It was when you heard a yell did you twist your ring, transforming it into your sword. The object was gifted to you before you even knew of your parentage, by an original member of the Argonauts, Atalanta. You recall the words of the swift footed women, who aided you during your mission to save both Lady Artemis and Annabeth; “never let a man take you unless he can keep up,” she winked before racing off. Many other campers joined you in seizing their weapons, Nico and Clarisse come to either side of you, swords ready. Two figures stumbled out of the forest, neither were recognizable. The taller seemed to be giggling and relying on the smaller to carry their weight. As they came closer you could make them out. A small Asian girl with black coke bottle glasses was cursing the taller brunette boy. He was gangly and average; you deemed him instantly not a threat.

“Hold! Who goes there?” Chiron boomed.

The boy gave a wobbly grin along with a shaky wave and replied, “oh, hi! I’m Apollo!” before collapsing to the ground

[wordsarelife]

—would’ve, could’ve, should’ve

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader

summary: you try to live with the loss of luke castellan and the betrayal he brought upon you

warning: angst

notes: the timeline is all over the place lmao. i haven't read the books yet (i probably will in the future) so i have no idea how or when luke got claimed. i just made it up for the sake of the story, hope that's alright :)

the wind splashed in your face like the ocean did when you would throw your body in the water. it was different, colder than it normally was. you weren’t used to the shiver your body felt, you had always felt at ease at camp halfblood.

now it was nothing like it used to be.

percy and annabeth were down at the camp, far away from the cliffside you were standing on, probably consoling each other.

you had felt nothing but loneliness from the moment he had left.

not even your brother or annabeth could’ve done something to change that.

you felt almost the same you did the day you came to camp. afraid and nervous, hands holding on to luke as you ran after him. thalia, annabeth and grover not far behind you.

but you had felt a bit of familiarity that day too. everything was new to you, but luke wasn’t. you had grown up together, experiencing the first effects of being a half-god side by side. there was no one who could take on the role he had held for you.

you stared into the clouds, the width of the sky in front of you, as your mind wandered back.

“look at the water!” annabeth called loudly.

your hand gripped luke’s arm, as both of you watched the giant wave travel to the shore.

“poseidon” an unknown boy behind you muttered and luke and you exchanged glances.

the wave broke down right in front of you, soft water glistening onto your feet as the lake opened up, perfectly wide enough for you to stand in without getting wet.

“what?” you mumbled, as the water fell back into its position right as luke was trying to follow you. it drenched you completely, but as your hand moved forward it bend away beneath your touch, moving just as you guided it to.

“she got claimed by poseidon” a few girls muttered in awe.

“claimed?” you repeated, still standing in the lake. you looked at luke, as if he knew any better than you.

you had to move out of the hermes cabin the same day and into a shed that felt less like a home and more like a punishment.

you had been overwhelmed at the bustling loudness of the hermes cabin at first, but now you were missing it. luke slept next to you for the first week, until you decided that you had to do this on your own. still, luke spend every evening with you, until the last alarm rang out and he had to leave if he didn’t want to be caught outside after nighttime (or eaten by harpies).

luke and you only grew closer during your time at camp. you did everything together. people got used to it quickly, always pointing out if one of you was missing.

luke found solace in your presence, telling you about his shattered hope regarding his father, someone who was still unknown to him. and you felt bad about it. it had taken days for you to be claimed and luke was still in the dark after months.

it was simply unfair.

you couldn't always relate to his frustration regarding the gods, because your father tried to reach you in forms that was allowed, shipping letters or presents your way, but you always listened to him, understanding that he was going through something different and he desperately needed someone on his side.

to say that luke's claiming was a bit of a let down was an understatement. luke had hoped so long for something that all his expectations had been incredibly low and hermes still managed to undercut them even further.

he didn't bother to pay attention to any of his children, none of them were treated as if they were more than just one piece of a big puzzle.

a letter arrived in the middle of july, listing a bunch of names that hermes had concluded to be those of his children. luke was included on the list. it was nothing special, nothing worth of a mention.

luke stayed in the hermes cabin and lost a bit of hope with each day passing without hearing from his father.

sometimes he found his anger directed at your father, who seemed all the more caring than his own. and although he didn't wish for you to go through the same grief he had gone through, he sometimes wondered what it would feel like to have you understand his experiences.

time passed and luke stopped mentioning his father or anything about the gods completely. you tried to ask him about it, but he claimed to have moved on, not caring for the attention of someone who couldn't be bothered to give it.

that was about the time you started seeing luke in a different light. he was no longer the little boy you had grown up along, he was almost a man, features loosing their boyish touch and dissolving into something more grown. something you had never seen in him before.

it was like getting to know him all over again.

it seemed like it wasn't any different with luke as he suddenly grew interested in the kind of perfume you were using or the little rings on your fingers when your hand would rest on his biceps a little too long.

the infaturation came fast, almost overnight and neither of you was ready to longer deny what was so clearly happening between you.

luke and you started dating that same year. it was the first relationship for the both of you and everything felt special. you couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend. he was kind and funny, always kept an eye on you wherever you went and quickly became the most important person in your life.

faster than you noticed, your whole life revolved around luke castellan. maybe that was why you felt like you had lost everything the night that he left.

you were dating for more than a year by the time percy showed up at camp.

those few days were probably the last you had truly been happy. you had a brother now, he was lovely and you immediately formed a bond with each other, having had similiar experiences regarding the truth about your father.

you remembered the night so clearly. it was like a never ending flashback in your hand.

you were taking a drink out of gina's hand, right as annabeth came running through the forest.

"y/n!" she called, her voice slumping down when she noticed you not far away. "percy" she simply said when you turned around. the distress on her face was enough to make you follow her.

luke looked up at the sound your footsteps were making. and annabeth quickly threw something, that made him let go of what he was holding. you realized too late that it was a sword.

percy was laying on the ground in front of luke. your features turned into a frown, when you looked at your brother and back at your boyfriend.

"y/n" luke said, surprise and worry in his voice. "annabeth"

you were so confused. you didn't even know what was going on. but what he had planned to do send shivers down your spine.

"i heard everything" annabeth said.

luke looked at you, like he was quietly asking if you had heard it too.

you shook your head. "what have you done?" you stepped around annabeth, who tried to hold you back without any luck. you stopped to glance up at him.

luke averted his eyes, feeling your breath against his neck, as your head was still recoiled backwards.

"look at me!" you said loudly, warningly, and you could see the muscles moving in his chin, a frown evident on his mouth.

"he's with kronos" percy announced, before luke had the chance to say something.

the rest of the memory was in a blur, but you clearly remembered your tears. tears of confusion, of betrayal, of hurt. that someone so close to you would betray everything you had fought so hard for? it seemed unfair to say the least.

and that someone was luke, your luke. you didn't even recognize him anymore.

you remembered his hand reaching out for you, the pleading look in his eyes, the silent question, to come with him and leave everything you loved behind. but you shook your head, turning away from him. you didn't even want to look at him. you would rather remember who he had been all those years before.

"sorry" he had muttered and neither annabeth nor you had been fast enough to stop him, as he ran away and through the portal he had opened.

now luke castellan was just a memory that haunted you. like a ghost that never really left your side. you missed him so dearly. all while you wished that he would stay far away at the same time. it was confusing and you hated that you were still so in love with him after everything he had done to you friends, your brother and even you.

you threw his chain into the relentless waves of the sea beneath you, before you walked back into the forest and away from the cliff.

"i haven't seen you all day" percy stood up and fell into a quick step beside you, when he saw you approaching.

"i was up on the cliff" you shrugged.

"oh" he muttered.

he had been following you around camp relentlessly after luke had left a few days ago. the hurt was still fresh, but felt so distant at the same time. percy was worried about you, you could clearly read that from the expression on his face.

he treated you like someone had just died. and that wasn't even far off.

"have you eaten anything?" he asked, not giving up.

"i didn't feel hungry" you mumbled. "where's annabeth?" she had been the only one who could at least somewhat understand what you were feeling. luke had been like a brother to her and both of you were now collateral damage on his path to power.

"you should really eat something" percy retored, matter of factly. "she went to change. i accidently spilled some ketchup on her shirt"

you halted in your step, turning to face your brother who looked up at you with a curious look in his eyes.

"don't ever change" you whispered, reaching out and hugging him close to your chest.

"what?" he mumbled against your body.

you pressed a kiss onto his head, before you let go of him. "thank you for being so caring" you smiled softly. "i will get through this, but i wouldn't without you"

"of course you would" percy shook his head and pushed his hands against his hips. "he's just a boy"

"no" your voice was soft and you tried hard not to let it break in front of him. you had done a pretty good job at avoiding to cry when percy was around you. "he was so much more to me"

percy sighed, but finally nodded. "yeah," he muttered, almost to himself "i get it."

you smiled sadly, appreciating his attempt to understand. the silence stretched between you, the rustling of the trees and the distant crashing of waves filling the space.

then, percy took a deep breath and glanced out at the horizon. "you know," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "the hardest thing isn’t losing someone. it’s realizing that no matter what they’ve done, you still carry the good parts of them with you."

you blinked, surprised by the depth of his words. he met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and resolve. "and that’s okay. it’s okay to hold onto that. to let yourself feel it. but it’s also okay to let go when you're ready. you loved luke for who he was, not for what he was going to become"

for a moment, you just stood there, absorbing his words. percy, the little brother you never expected, was showing you a wisdom that went far beyond his years.

"yeah, you might be right about that" you said as soon as the words returned to you. "when have you gotten so wise?"

"well, nearly dying does all sorts of things with you"

you smiled, pulling him against you once more. "thank you for coming back home, percy"

"we're in this together now" he assured. "i never had a sister before, but i will try my best to be a good brother"

"you already are an amazing brother, you know?" you said softly. "but you're so much more to me, too"

at that, he send you a look that would probably cure your nightmares for days to come. you and luke had relied on each other all your life, but now he was gone and you had to learn to accept that.

now someone else was relying on you and you promised to not let it come this far again. you would make sure that percy jackson would never experience all the disappointments and frustration you and luke had to endure throughout the years.

you would make sure that percy never felt unwanted or less loved like kids who had normal parents.

you would not fail percy like you had failed luke.

[thekissofaphrodite]

Can you maybe do Clarisse x fem! Child of Hypnos?? I don’t think I’ve seen anything of that dynamic and I’d like to see how you would write it!

OKAY. IM ACTUALLY RLLY EXCITED ABT THIS SINCE JUST LIKE ANON SAID, I'VE NEVER SEEN A DYNAMIC LIKE IT BEFOREE.

Sweet Dreams

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Hypnos!Reader

Summary: A shared moment with clarrise with a flick of your finger.

Warnings: Hypnokinesis, people passing out and language

Author's note: Okay, I'm actually tired of some writers portraying a child of hypnos who likes to sleep... yeah, sure, their dad is the God of sleep, but that doesn't mean they just slump on their bed and snore away! They're also powerful! If you read the books !SPOILER ALERT! Hypnos literally knocked an entire city to sleep before the battle of Manhattan for Kronos. Why can't we portray his children like that? 🤨 No hate! Just speaking facts <33

CHILDREN OF HYPNOS DESERVES SOME RECOGNITION!! (coming from cabin 7)

——

You missed your girlfriend so much.

She was in archery and capture the flag today, but you two barely got enough time to run to each other before she was bombarded by tasks from Chiron.

You saw the way her eyes would soften from afar, giving you a discreet sympathetic look while she went on a rampage on her siblings ready to stab them into kebabs using her spear. But she knew you'd find a way to get to her, she always knew.

and you always do.

It wasn't long before every camper eventually dozed off after a fun sing-a-long around the campfire, singing their hearts out about their godly parent, minus a Demeter Girl complaining about getting a fern for her birthday instead of a car like all her friends.

So here you are, pulling your night robe closer as you impatiently wait for your father to caress Clarisse's siblings to sleep so you can have a moment with her.

But your father was taking way too long.

you have been hiding behind the cabin for hours, Listening to the unpleasant way the swords and spears of the Ares cabin got sharpened and big boisterous faces laughing at eachother. Clarisse was in her bunk, her arms crossed with a seemingly frowning expression. Every laughter made by her siblings made her more and more annoyed.

Every minute that passed made you more agitated until you finally snapped.

You stood behind the cabin and held your hands, focusing on the heartbeats and every breath that they exhaled, The sound around you became indistinct and fuzzy, the time seemed to slow down. A translucent light smoke seemed to snake inside the Cabin before it swirled around Clarisse' siblings, it took a few moments before their eyelids got heavy, their breathing ragged. And sure enough, there was a soft thud where their body fell.

It took you by surprise. It also snapped Clarisse out of her thoughts. Seeing her siblings who were talking lively minutes ago dozing off turned her off, She stood up alarmingly, ready to fend herself to any attacks of intruder.

When she saw you, her tense body softened, the beam on your face was a little unreadable, but she couldn't help but smile.

You ran and threw yourself into her arms, she caught you easily, carrying your weight like nothing.

"I did it, Clar!" You squealed, Clalrisse looked at you, confused.

"Did what, Baby?"

"My father finally blessed me! I get to use my powers, i can't believe this, did you see?!" You were babbling like a baby, words being thrown at her in hyperplaps, but she listened, never letting you go in her arms. She listened and remembered everything.

Like the time you were sobbing in her arms, after multiple failed attempts on praying to your father, it hurt her. She remembered when she used to devote herself to Ares, offering him big chunk of brisket and the freshest strawberries on her plate, just for him to answer her prayer, but it never worked, until finally he had enough of her, and gifted Clarisse a spear to shut her up.

But seeing you happy for finally being able to have powers, she felt something inside her change.

Clarisse tightened her arms around you, placing her nose to your hair, inhailing your scent.

"I'm proud of you" she pulled away and placed her hand against your cheek. She was slowly analyzing the color of your eyes, carefully studying each and every details your face had, then she slowly reached to your lips, the color was a mix of peach and pink, assuming it was from the lipgloss, but it looks so deliciously kissable right now.

Her hands reached the back of your head and before you know it, her lips were against yours, an arm wrapped around your waist while pulling you close.

"I love you, did you know that?" Clarisse whispered on your lips, "i doubt it" You laughed, falling over Clarisse' soft bunk bed as she kissed you once more.

An extra for you guys since i disappeared too long :>

——

There were soft groans and mumbles coming from Clarisse' siblings, it was already 3:46 am.

"What happened?" Asked Sherman while rubbing his temple.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at her brother, Sherman, glancing at their weapons leaned against their bunk.

"Nothing, i guess you two spent way too long gossiping that your eyes eventually took it themselves and took a rest" she said, Clarisse was trying not to grin at her siblings, knowing well that it was all her girlfriend's doing.

"Huh... what did you do when we're out then?" One of her brothers, Ellis asked.

"The usual, inspection and lights out"

"Really?" Both brothers said in unison.

"Yes, don't look at me like I'm lying, unless you want a spear up your ass" Clarisse snapped, rolling over and hugging her pillow to sleep.

Both brother looked at eachother and quietly snickered, i guess they'll keep hush about that peach and pink lipgloss smudge near clarisse' neck.

And they'll definitely tell the others tomorrow.

[mcuamerica]

Waiting For You | Eris x Reader

For Eris Week 2024 - Day 1: Bonds | Bargains @erisweekofficial

Summary: Lucien and Tamlin bring Rhys's sister to Eris after Tamlin's brothers almost kill her. Eris finds out who his mate is.

Warnings: mentions of SA (nothing happens), canon level violence, torture, parental death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears for Eris Week.

Your mother and you were in a small cabin just outside the Illyrian war camp territory, waiting for your brother to show up after his training for the day. You’d spend a week as a family, minus your father, in the cabin. As you admired the river streaming below the small porch, you took in the fresh air. Out in the middle of Illyria, no males to bother you. It was wonderful. 

You let your wings spread out, admiring the way they felt as you took in the cool wind. Only, something was off about it. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked around, knowing Rhys liked to play tricks on you all the time. While you were a fully grown Fae, you were still young and he was still teaching you a lot about being alert. This time, you were too late when your mother started screaming. Not in terror but for you to run.

Instead, you walked right back into the cabin only to see Tamlin’s brother, Xavier, with a dagger to your mother’s throat. Before you knew what was happening, another one, Neo, had one to your throat. “Hmm.. you smell devine… I should like ravishing you before I destroy these.. Precious wings.” He sneered. A cold chill went down your spine at his words. Your wings. Mother, please don’t let them take your wings. 

“You let her go.” Your mother said. A fierce female that wouldn’t let either of her children get hurt if she could help it. You let out a sob as Xavier pressed deeper into her throat. You scented the blood before you saw it draw from her neck. “Do what you want to me, but leave her alone. She’s innocent.” She said. 

“She won’t be for long,” Neo said, a shudder running down your spine as he nipped at your neck. Your magic was still new to you and certainly not as strong as Neo’s. Not to mention, his strength alone could hold you in his restraint for hours. 

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Your mother growled. A female protecting her young, that was all in your mother’s eyes. Suddenly, you had a terrible feeling neither of you would get out of this alive. 

“Oh, we won’t make you watch.” Xavier let out a low laugh. “But you…” His gaze turned towards you just as Neo shoved you into a chair. “You get to watch us gut your oh so loving mother to shreds…” 

“Why?” You asked, doing your best to keep your voice from shaking. “Why are you doing this? Rhys- Rhys is helping you!” You yelled. Too young. You were too young to understand any of this. 

“Rhysand is growing too powerful and close to our dear brother… so we need to show him just how powerless he is. Let’s start with you.” He said, running the dagger along your mother’s arm in a deep cut. 

Once they were tired of your screams, they put a gag in your mouth. And as your mother laid on the floor, blood flowing out of her, you couldn’t bear to watch anymore. But they made you, kept you awake just so you could watch them take her wings. 

The things they did to you next were unspeakable. Carving scars and words into your back, around your wings. Running their rough hands along your wings… your body. The only thing they didn’t do was rape you… but their hands on your body… it was terrible. 

And then they took their swords to your wings, shredding them and eventually peeling them from your back. Slowly. Their magic woke you long enough to view yourself in the mirror. Bruises covered in bright red blood along your once clean skin. Just hours before, your wings were intact and stretched out in the sun.. but now they were in the hands of your tormentors as they sneered. 

“I hope Rhysand sees this message… not that you’ll live long enough to know.” Xavier said, his laugh echoing in your head before delivering the final blow. And then everything was dark. 

Something wasn’t right. Eris could feel it in his gut, something was very very wrong. Someone was hurt… he just didn’t know who. Or why he felt this way. Still, he felt a tug on his heart, and he tugged back. Whatever that tug was needed an answering one. 

He didn’t know what it was until his brother… the one who had vowed to never step foot in the Autumn again, came stumbling in with Tamlin. And a bloody, broken body between them. 

“Xavier and Neo went crazy.” Lucien said. “They- they killed the High Lord of Night’s wife… and this… his daughter.. Rhys’s sister..” His words stumbled. “Eris, she’s barely alive.” 

Lucien looked at his brother, the one who wouldn’t take part in killing his lover. The one who he knew had a compassionate side of him. Begged him to help her. If she died… It was bad enough that the Lady of Night was killed.. But a future heir? The High Lord of Night might start a terrible war. Tamlin and Lucien set you on Eris’s table, both peering at him like deer in faelight. 

“Bring her in… and go find Renae. Quietly. Tamlin.. I suggest you go home and see to your brothers. The High Lord of Night will hear of this soon enough.” Eris ordered. Tamlin, the young prince he was, stumbled out of Eris’s private cabin and winnowed away just as Lucien went to find Eris’s trusted healer. 

“(Y/N)...” He whispered, his magic flowing to heal any wounds. Just as it did… the bond snapped. His eyes widened and he stumbled back, the pain that eddied down the bond was unbearable. How… how were you still alive? 

Eris let out a low growl at the thought of those males touching you. Hurting you. Like this. You were so young… just over 30 years old. And yet… they did this to you. 

He shook his head, stepping up to you again to heal whatever he could with his magic. His wards rang the bell that Renae and Lucien returned, and he sat aside as he waited for Renea to work. 

He told Lucien to go back to the Spring Court, check on Tamlin and not come back. Eris would be in deep shit when Rhys found out where his sister… his wingless sister was taken but he’d be damned if his little brother was caught in the middle of it. 

So, he had a messenger deliver the news to the Court of Nightmares, that the Princess of the Night Court was healing in Autumn, too fragile to travel, and to send an emissary of Night to watch over her. 

Azriel is the one who showed up, almost knocking down the door in the process. Eris growled as Azriel walked up to the table. 

“Step back, boy,” Renae said, looking up from her gaze on you. “If you want her to be healed properly, you will give me space.” She said. 

“We will have our own healers assess her.” He replied. 

“She can’t leave. Moving her here was a mistake enough. Another trip might be fatal.” She stated before getting back to work. 

“Why, Mother above, was she brought here?” Azriel asked, finally moving his gaze towards Eris. 

Eris’s lips were a thin line, hiding the swirling emotions… The pain you were feeling… “The heir of the Spring Court found out about his brothers’ plans. Arrived too late to save the Lady of Night, but found the Princess unconscious. My brother, in aiding his friend, brought her here. Because if either of them stepped foot in the Night Court, they would have died instantly.” Eris explained. 

Azriel let out a low growl, but paused when he heard a whimper come from your lips. 

“I have healed all I can for tonight. She needs rest. Do you have a bed?” She turned to Eris. 

“I will take her,” Azriel said, glaring at Eris as he gently took your broken, bruised, and bloodied body in his arms. Eris focused on restraining himself at the sight of another male touching you when you were hurt. 

“Second door on the right.” Eris ground out. He was shaking by the time he heard the door shut. “Will she survive?” He asked Renae. 

“She will… it will be a long healing process… but she will survive. When she wakes, she will be disorientated. I suggest that Illyrian stay with her, if she knows him well. A familiar, safe face will ease the pain of what she went through.” Before she left, she said she would be back in the morning to check on her, but to get her if anything else happened. 

You woke up screaming from the pain. Of course, it was the one time Azriel stepped away to relieve himself and Eris was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. His room. You were in his bed. Azriel, thank the Mother, had cleaned you of the blood. You had bandages in almost every spot on your body, the brace on your arm and leg a temporary solution until Renae could come to fully set them. 

Your screams… They were terrible. Full of pain, misery, and terror. Relentless horror. 

Eris knelt next to the bed, not daring to touch you in fear he might hurt you more. “(Y/N), you are safe.” He whispered, resisting the urge to cup your cheek. Gods… Your face was still bruised, your nose now slightly crooked from how terribly it was broken. 

Then your sobs started as you tried to move, but the pain must have been too much as your body slackened. Azriel burst through the door, shoving Eris aside as he took his place beside the bed. 

At Azriel’s voice shushing you, you quieted. Your sobs were soft whimpers as your swollen eyes searched for Azriel’s. Or so he thought… until your gaze landed on Eris. 

You couldn’t speak, but the way your eyes slightly widened… The slight tug on the bond he felt… He knew you felt it snap. You knew Eris was your mate. And you couldn’t do a gods damned thing about it. 

It took two weeks for you to be well enough to travel. In those two weeks, Azriel didn’t leave your side. And neither did Eris, no matter how many times Azriel said he wasn’t wanted. 

Azriel didn’t say that again when you corrected him. “I want him here.” You muttered, your voice still hoarse. No matter how much water you drank, the injury to your throat was a burden. “He’s helping me. I want him here.” 

When it was time for you to go back to Velaris, you told Azriel to go outside. Shadows included. You wanted a word with the heir of Autumn alone. So, Az did as he was told and went outside, but kept an eye on you through the window. 

“What can I do to thank you?” You asked, leaning against the cain Renae gave you, since your leg was still healing. 

“Nothing… You don’t have to do anything. I don’t want anything.” He said and shook his head. 

“You’re my mate.” You whispered, searching his eyes. “You have every right to claim me and keep me here.” 

“Do you want that?” He asked, a soft look on his face. 

You bit your lip, eyes glancing to the floor before you looked back at his face. “I will come back to you, Eris.” You said, reaching up your free hand to cup his cheek. “I promise.” You said. “I need… need to heal first.” 

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He said, a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. “I promise.” 

With that, a tattoo formed around your forearm, and one on his. It was one of flame and shadow, but perfect for the bargain made for mates of Autumn and Night. “Thank you.” You whispered, then gave his cheek a gentle kiss. 

You made your way to Azriel, taking his hand and telling him to not ask about the bargain you just made. You would get enough questions about it from your brother. And all you wanted to do right now was go home… where the new High Lord of the Night Court awaited you… and you needed to say goodbye to your father and mother at their burial sites, since you missed their funerals. 

As you appeared in the Town House in front of your now smaller family, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you would have to wait to see your mate again. Or how long that bargain would last before it pulled you towards him again. What you did know, however, was that you didn’t care how long it would take. You would go back to him again. You would be with your mate. The male who healed you and helped you through the terrors of pain and loss in those initial days, even if they were now a blur in your mind. You would return to him. And he would be waiting.

Eris Masterlist

A/N: This is my first official Eris Week participation! I'm so excited! More to come throughout the week. I think you all will like it!

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 8

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Everyone's eyes were on you, likely thinking you didn’t exist. The Celestial Enterprise knew the proper miss and acknowledged by your father, the CEO, as Victoria.

This time was different. They were more invested because of the person walking beside you, Bucky Barnes.

You were nervous, for sure, but Bucky was calming you down. He said, “Calm down, I can hear your teeth chattering.”

“I’m not,” you replied. Was it that obvious? You pinched your thigh to clear your mind with the pain.

Bucky chuckled. It was true your teeth didn’t make a sound, but he could feel your fear, so he tried to bring back your fierce character. “Look at all these people. After tonight, they will remember who you truly are.”

Yes. He was right. Before, you could only dream of this, never taking a step because you knew the bridge would be destroyed by your stepmom first.

But this time was different because you could cross the bridge with Bucky's help.

What kind of luck did you have to have Bucky supporting you?

Flashback Start

After remembering everything, Bucky felt a surge of anger at the people who had kidnapped him. But now, that anger was replaced by gratitude as he recalled how he was saved. It was you and your grandma.

It must be God’s work that brought you and him together again. Bucky knew he had to repay the kindness he received from you both.

He went to his parents' house early in the morning. His parents were already up, enjoying a short walk. His dad was sipping coffee and eating toast while his mom was reading the newspaper.

“Son? What are—?” Juliana began, looking up from her newspaper.

“I remembered,” Bucky interrupted, his voice steady.

Bucky’s dad, Rowan, curious but skeptical, remarked, “You forgot something?”

“Shush,” Juliana said, flicking her husband’s hand lightly. She quickly understood what Bucky meant. “Everything?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern and hope.

Bucky sat down to join his parents, taking a deep breath. “Including the person who saved me,” he said, his voice filled with mixed emotions.

His confession took his parents by surprise. The time when Bucky was kidnapped was the darkest day of their lives, like a living hell. It was then that they realized money could bring security and danger. Their only son had become a hostage.

He was kidnapped for two weeks. It was a miracle when the police from an outlying city called to say they had found him. Actually, it was a woman and her granddaughter who discovered Bucky. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Juliana and Rowan wanted to thank the people who had saved their son, but when they tried to get more information, the police said no one was in the cabin anymore.

At that time, there was no social media or viral news. They wanted to keep searching, but they stopped because of Bucky's trauma. He had lost all memories of his kidnappers and the people who saved him.

Although they stopped searching, the Barnes family never stopped being grateful and wishing the best for the people who saved Bucky.

“Could you describe the people who saved you?” Rowan asked, leaning forward with interest.

“Even better. I met them,” Bucky replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

His parents were even more shocked. Juliana’s hand flew to her mouth in surprise while Bucky’s dad sat back, stunned.

“We have to meet them. As Barnes, we never forget the people who helped us,” Rowan declared, his voice filled with determination.

Bucky nodded, a serious expression on his face. “Before you meet them, I need your help.”

His parents listened intently, their faces a mix of curiosity and readiness.

Juliana reached out, touching Bucky’s arm gently. “Whatever you need, son.”

⚾⚾⚾⚾

The luxurious car parked in the school parking lot, drawing curious glances from students. Bucky stepped out, straightening his jacket, and made his way toward the school entrance. It had been a few days since he last saw you, and he was eager to catch up.

As he approached, he heard loud cheers and shouts from the male students, echoing through the windows. The lively and raucous atmosphere was a stark contrast to the quiet, private school he had attended. Intrigued, he followed the noise and found himself at the field track.

He initially thought it was a running exam, but quickly realized it was something different. A group of students was running, chased by someone wielding a baseball bat.

It was you.

You had taken off the cast from your left arm, and as you ran, you swung the bat with determined precision. The sight made the students you were chasing scatter in fear.

"I'm sorry!" Jimmy, one of the students, yelled as he ran.

"Destroying school property with graffiti is a big no, Jimmy," you called back, your voice steady as you gained on him.

Jimmy, looking over his shoulder in terror, suddenly spotted Bucky standing ahead. He remembered this rich man from his previous visit to the school.

"Bro! Help me out a bit," Jimmy pleaded, darting behind Bucky in desperation, using him as a human shield.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Jimmy with mild amusement. He turned his gaze to you, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You stopped when you saw Bucky, your bloodlust evaporating.

"Oh, hi! What are you doing here?" you asked, catching your breath after the chase.

Bucky, looking out of place compared to you, covered in sweat and still holding the bat, smiled. "What lessons are you teaching right now?"

"Attitude," you replied, pointing the bat at Jimmy, cstill hiding behind Bucky. "This lad behind you wants to be Jackson Pollock. He painted the school's clean wall with graffiti."

Bucky glanced at Jimmy and then back at you. "He did wrong. It must be a hassle to clean it."

"Damn right. The principal will make me clean it," you grumbled.

"That's not fair. I will call a carpenter to paint the wall," Bucky said firmly.

"Really?" Both you and Jimmy asked at the same time, surprised.

Bucky nodded. "As payment, I need to steal you for the rest of the day."

"Yes, please. Bro, take her with you," Jimmy said eagerly, pushing Bucky closer to you.

Neither of you expected it, and you were ready to help Bucky if he panicked. Bucky had prepared himself too, but nothing happened, even though his heartbeat was racing.

"You're not...?" you began, your eyes searching his for any sign of distress.

Bucky grabbed your hand. "Let's go. I want you to meet someone."

"Wait," you protested, but Bucky was already leading you away.

Many students watched in astonishment as their fearless teacher held hands with Bucky. After a brief second, they erupted into cheers.

"Get it, teach! Get it!" "Woohoo! Love is in the air!"

You felt the back of your neck grow hot with embarrassment, but you couldn't help but notice that Bucky seemed different. His grip on your hand was firm and steady, his posture confident.

🍷🍷🍷🍷

Bucky takes you to a luxurious hotel restaurant. The hotel manager welcomes you both warmly, guiding you through the elegant lobby. As you walk, you feel a bit out of place in your casual attire, a stark contrast to the opulence around you. It's been a long time since you've set foot in a five-star hotel.

The manager leads you to a private room and opens the door. Inside, two people are already seated at the dining table. You recognize the woman, and suddenly, it clicks—you're meeting Bucky's parents.

"Oh my god," you murmur under your breath, hastily brushing your hair back and fixing the collar of your shirt.

Juliana rises from her seat and approaches you with a warm smile, wrapping you in a hug. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, unsure of how to respond. How could a wealthy lady like her be so friendly?

Meanwhile, Bucky's father, Rowan, the CEO of a major company, smiles at you with genuine warmth.

"Thank you for saving my son," Juliana says, her gratitude evident.

You blink, confusion written all over your face. "I... I don't understand."

Bucky clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "I haven't talked to her about that yet."

Juliana chuckles softly. "No wonder she looks clueless. Forgive my son. Please, take a seat."

You sit down, feeling all eyes on you. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember years ago, you and your grandma found a boy?” Juliana asks gently.

You think about it for a moment. Your grandma? A boy? The memory is blurry, but you recall a boy that your grandma brought to the cabin.

"The next morning, the boy was gone, and we had to leave. It turned out my father had taken the rights to that small cabin too," you say, piecing it together.

“I was that boy,” Bucky reveals.

“You—? No, I don’t think so. Oh my god, it is you,” you gasp as the realization hits.

Cassandra pats your shoulder reassuringly. “That’s why we wanted to meet you. It’s such a small world.”

“Hahaha… yeah,” you laugh nervously, still processing the revelation.

Rowan leans in, his voice filled with gratitude. “We’re forever grateful to you. You and your grandma saved our son's life.”

You feel a rush of emotions. “It was my grandma who found him,” you say modestly.

Bucky nods. “And that’s why we will give Cassandra the best treatment.”

Your heart leaps at his words. This is such a great gift. “Thank you…” you say, holding back your tears.

Juliana offers you a tissue. “This is just the start, my dear. You deserve so much more.”

Bucky and his dad nod in agreement.

“There are two things that she wants: Velari and her childhood home,” Bucky states firmly.

Rowan and Juliana exchange a look of surprise. “That’s it? You only want to get back Velari and the house?” Rowan asks. Because they could give you so much more.

You clear your throat, gathering your thoughts. “To be honest, my knowledge of business isn’t that good. I only want to get back the business that my mom and grandma put their blood, sweat, and tears into. Looking at the design that both women created for Valerie, the root concept of Velari is gone. It has fallen into consumerism.”

Juliana nods in agreement. The old designs from Velari were classic and timeless. She’s too shy to tell you she’s wearing a Velari shirt, but she appreciates how you admit your limitations. You’re not greedy.

Juliana interjects, “What will your father say?”

“He’s only a father in name. He was never a father to me,” you reply, bitterness creeping into your voice.

The Barnes nod their heads, understanding the situation of your family. They know that your mother died of a heart attack after discovering her husband’s infidelity, and that your father prefers his second wife and younger daughter over you.

You look at their supportive expressions, feeling a mix of sadness and gratitude. It’s painful to realize that strangers are more willing to help you than your own blood relatives.

Juliana claps her hands together, breaking the somber mood. “That would be easy. You will get back what’s yours, dear.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you.”

Flashback Ends

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

That brings both of you to the anniversary of Celestial Enterprise. With the support of the Barnes family, you are no longer scared.

Genevieve and Jonathan approach you both. Genevieve wears her one-million-dollar smile, polite yet the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. Inside, she wants to curse you with the most evil words she knows.

Victoria has resigned herself from the party. It was supposed to be her daughter standing beside Bucky, not you.

You smile at your so-called dad and Genevieve, especially her. Jonathan, who used to turn a blind eye, now sees you as worthy of his time.

Genevieve, who used to look at you as if you were beneath her, is now scared. You feel that karma is catching up with your stepmom and stepsister.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@chemtrails-club

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@sapphirebarnes

@thedonswife13

@angelbabyyy99

@cjand10

@esposadomd

@buckitostan

@wh0reforbucknasty

@bada-lee-ily

@evie-119

@mrsstuckyboo

@ghalouha

@iamasimpingh0e

@loki-laufeyson68

@buckybarnessimpp

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[beomiracles]

Hi!! May I request just an any member of TXT x reader wherein they are both demigods and go to camp halfblood??

⌞ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐎𝐃 ⌝

DREAM RECALL stumbling across a hidden camp on the Long Island shore reveals that you are not the only one with a compromised family.

pairings demigod!txt x demigod!reader (gn) warnings none !

#serene adds ✎ anon...you brought out my inner nerd with this one. I've read ALL and I mean all Percy Jackson books. I LOVE THE SERIES. Though this was when I was 12, so I'm sure there are a few details missing BUT hehe, this was sm fun. I couldn't pick just one member so I did head canons for all of them!!!

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BOOKS (shame on you) It's basically a series in which the greek gods occasionally have children with ordinary humans, thus creating a "demigod". These children will grow up to have a fragment of the powers their parents have. Camp half-blood is a sort of safe haven for these children where they're assigned a cabin based off of their godly parent. They train and specialise in their powers in order to defend themselves !

this post makes a lot more sense if you have read the books or seen the movie(s) but I have tried to make it understandable for those who haven't !

either way these are the type of demigods I personally think the members would be, (yes I'm trying to be different).

YEONJUN — son of ZEUS CABIN 1

After spending four long and excruciating summers at camp half blood, Yeonjun finally got acknowledged by his father last year, becoming the first to move into cabin one. 

Thanks to his outgoing nature he's never had any issues making friends despite his unusual parent. — He’s also one of the first to greet you upon your arrival. Making sure you get introduced to everyone and everything as he shows you around, throwing in a quick pick-up line or two as he tours the place for you.  

Most definitely likes shows off, I mean, he’s not Zeus only acknowledged son for nothing. — Summoning large thunderstorms, relishing in the way you cling to his side as he makes lightning strike not far from the two of you. 

Your first nights at camp half-blood are spent in cabin one with Yeonjun, despite the protocol being for unclaimed demigods to stay in Hermes’. 

It’s a little bittersweet to say the least when Aphrodite finally decides to acknowledge you as it meant you had to bid farewell to your new friend’s spacious living quarters. 

Though Yeonjun gets along well with almost everyone, there’s a kid in cabin seven that always seems to get on his every nerve.

SOOBIN — son of ARES CABIN 5

Despite being the son to the God of literal war, Soobin considered himself to be somewhat of a pacifist. Unlike his half siblings, he never engaged in any of the fights usually taking place both inside and outside of cabin five. 

He much preferred spending time with you, picking flowers as he lets you braid them into his hair. Reading poetry together on an open field or going to care for the horses in the stables. 

Soobin knew that his nature got him on his father’s bad side, but he didn’t really mind. Instead he used his almost supreme strength to help out where he was needed, carrying heavy hay bales or helping you move large furniture in your room.

He’s probably too shy to ever admit out loud that he thinks you’re very cute. As one of Aphrodite's children he thinks you must hear that a lot, thus he holds back from showering you with compliments. 

He’s also not one to participate in the many games hosted by your camp, and if he does, he’s always the first one to get sent to the infirmary.

BEOMGYU — son of APOLLO CABIN 7

Has been around for pretty much his whole life, his necklace filled to the brim with beads, representing each summer spent at camp half-blood. 

Very much a show off as well, knows how to use a bow but can also both sing and play the guitar. His ego might just be bigger than Yeonjun’s. 

Quickly introduces himself on your first day there, even though your tour guide (Yeonjun) purposefully avoided cabin 7 as he showed you around. 

Beomgyu often complains that you use your powers on him, as Aphrodite's children are known for their manipulation of both love and lust, and that’s the reason as to why he can’t get you out of his head, dedicating song after song to you as he plays them by the fire each night. 

Often takes joy in casting minor curses on whoever does him dirty, cough, cough. So you’re not surprised when you hear the loud yell coming from Zeus’ cabin on a Saturday morning.

TAEHYUN — son of ATHENA CABIN 6

Unlike the others, Taehyun finds little amusement in anything that involves the outdoors. Cooped up in his room, he spends his days reading and researching the most diverse topics that he can come across. 

You have to practically drag him out of the cabin as you force him to join you and Beomgyu whilst you practice archery. He will most likely just whine and complain the whole time, pointing out your errors as he goes. 

Thanks to his introverted nature, Taehyun doesn’t have a lot of friends, to be honest, you might be his only one. — He will never admit it out loud, but his heart beats a little faster when he sees you skip inside the dimly lit cabin. Ready to listen to him talk about whatever book he had last read. 

He does care for you, not that you would know because he only talks fondly of you when you’re not around. Standing up to whoever might have something negative to say as he quickly shoots them down with a witty remark. 

On a brighter note, there’s little Taehyun doesn’t know and you can always count on him to be able to handle any kind of situation.

HUENINGKAI — son of HADES CABIN 13

Kai almost wanted to cry when his father finally claimed him two years ago. Being associated with death wasn’t exactly something one wished for, especially not Kai. Not to mention the fact that he would have to sleep in the creepy and dark cabin all by himself. 

Quickly becoming an outcast, Kai was very hesitant to approach you, not wanting to scare you off with the literal epitome of death lingering around him. But you liked him from the start, the two of you made for an odd pair but you thought it was kind of charming. 

You ate dinner and breakfast together, and you often visited him in his cabin so that he wouldn’t have to be so lonely. Despite his father being the ruler of hell, Kai was both scared of the dark and any horror movie rated 13+. 

He didn’t care much for the powers passed onto him by his father and thus he never practiced them very much. — If he did use them, it would be in order to bring back your pet cat that had been run over by a car, or saving a mouse that got caught up in a trap. 

Kai did however become quite close with Yeonjun, the fact that they were both the only children of their parents sparked a friendship that no one really saw coming.

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[sleepyangelkami]

Would you write John Murphy from the 100?

BOY FROM THE SKY j.murphy

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.5K

JOHN MURPHY X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you and your parents live in a cottage in the woods, what happens when they return from hunting one day with a boy, battered and bruised, claiming he'd fallen from the sky?

 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - minor blood + gore, (1) use of y/n, shy!reader, acid fog, panic attack, swear word(s), petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

living in the woods wasn't as isolated as it seemed. you rather liked where you lived, the peace in it. besides, you'd never known anything else.

it was just you and your parents, it always bad been. you often had visitors, people from clans all throughout the forest, but they were allies to your family now, peace being served between you all.

your hands brushed against the ceramic plates, wiping them clean when you heard commotion from outside the cottage. your parents had been on a run, hunting for food while you stayed behind. they never trusted you enough to go out by yourself.

you found yourself following the noise but you didn't get far, eyes widening as your father burst open the door, he and your mother supporting a boy from either arm, limp as they dragged him. "what are you doing?" you mumbled, following them as they lifted him towards the bathroom.

blood followed in a trail.

"y/n, get the medical supplies, now." you wasted no time in fleeing the room, hands pushing at drawers until you found the medical supplies you needed. your parents were waiting for you as you passed them the things they needed, stepping back to watch.

you didn't speak to people outside the cabin, that was your parents job but watching him, a new soul standing inside your bathroom was certainly a sight to scare. "come here, put pressure on his stomach with this cloth." you did as your mother told you, gently placing your hands against the white cloth, now stained crimson.

"who... who is he?" your voice croaked, turning to your father who was putting rubbing alcohol in his arm.

"john. murphy. most people just call me murphy, though." your eyes widened as they turned back to the boy. seeing as his eyes were lolled closed and his head was leaning down, you assumed he'd been passed out but he looked back up at you, with low red eyes and a hazy memory. "what's the problem? not a fan of blood?" he could feel your hands shaking against his wound, doing everything in your power not to look down.

thankfully, your mother answered for you, unaware of how your jaw was glued in the one place, unable to move. "she's terrified of it." answering shortly. "i got it." your mother moved your hands away and let her own hands take over.

you stepped backwards, almost tripping over your own two feet. watching the stranger in the bathroom with your parents working on his wounds was enough to make you feel hazy too. "what can i do to help?" you mumbled, voice low and quiet.

murphy decided then that you resembled a flower, not a sunflower or anything so bright, but a delicate one, a white tulip, perhaps. he gave you a funny smile. "don't suppose you guys have coffee, here, do you?"

that was the first time you'd ever met john murphy. he soon became much more than a stranger.

he became sort of like a 'second' as the grounders would call it, to your parents. he did as much as he could to repay them for their kindness. you never really asked him much about himself, squeaking and hiding every chance you got. living out in the forest by yourself for your whole life, you got a little shy.

your parents were hunters but also searching for a better place to live, the cabin only provided so much security. often, they'd leave for weeks at a time leaving you in the cabin alone. they never had to worry though, because you always kept things under control. but this time... you had someone to stay with you, though you could hardly call them a friend if you couldn't look him in the eye.

it was late at night, your parents had only left that morning and you were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you were dressed in tattered pale blue sleep shorts with a ragged white henley on top.

you were under the impression that you were in the kitchen alone, that was until the door slammed rather harshly. a squeak fell from your lips as you gripped the glass in your hand tighter as to keep it from falling. your wide eyes glanced forward to see murphy, grimacing at the sound. "sorry." he uttered. "i didn't mean to scare you."

you inhaled softly. "you didn't." but your shaking voice and nervous shuffle said otherwise.

murphy still eyed you, unconvinced. he'd made it his job to be extra careful around you. he could tell from your nervous jitters that you were rather shy and the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable in your own home.

"looks like we had the same idea." he joked, pouring himself a glass of water too.

your eyes nervously looked at him. it was easier to look at him when he wasn't looking at you, and right now his eyes were trained on the rounded kitchen table.

his skin looked less battered and bruised than it did before. the bruises still lingered but the cuts were almost gone. "your wounds look better."

and thank god for that, the sight of his wounds had made you a little on edge. "that mean you can finally look me in the eye now?"

murphy knew as soon as the words left his lips that he shouldn't have said anything. when speaking to you, you adverted your eyes as quickly as you could, never making eye contact. your fingers would fiddle with themselves and you'd dig the tip of your foot into the mud beneath your shoes.

always so nervous.

"sorry." you mumbled, cheeks turning warm. "i'm just..."

"shy?" he practically answered for you, watching you catch your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. "i get it."

your eyes caught to his dark blue ones and you tried to keep your face from getting hot. "goodnight, murphy." setting your glass in the sink and making your way towards the door.

"goodnight, sweetheart." the minute it left his lips, he knew it was too late to take back.

he watched as your cheeks turned to flames and your eyes widened even larger. you quickly scurried out of the room and he bit his lip, rolling his own eyes and wondering how he could be so stupid.

it wasn't as if he hadn't meant to call you such a name. he just wished he'd gotten the chance to be more gentle with it, to ease you into the idea.

you already seemed nervous before, he could only imagine you now.

however, as the sun rose again by morning, you didn't seem to want to leave his side. he was unsure what had changed within the night but he shrugged it off, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"it's nice out today, don't you think?" you see, you'd spent all your time with him all day but you hadn't exactly spoke much. murphy was chopping wood with the spare axe your father always used. he wiped a hand across his forehead and looked up at the blazing sun.

you just nodded silently, glancing around at the pretty flowers that were beginning to bloom. "spring's one of my favourite seasons." you admitted in a low mumble.

murphy's eyes turned to you, watching you at your seat on top of one of the wood logs, swaying your feet back and forth. "yeah? why's that?" using the axe to swing onto another piece of wood. they were already chopped into cylinders but they were too big to fit in the fire place.

"i like the flowers." it was only now that he realised there was a little flower crown sitting in your lap, you were adding the last few daisies. "i think peonies are my favourite but i've never seen one in real life."

most of your life was measured in books and pictures, it wasn't like you had many people to keep you company before, to tell you their own stories. aside from your parents, that is.

"you will." your eyes glanced up, hearing the sincerity in his voice. he'd placed the axe against the ground and picked up the now separated log pieces. "someday."

"how do you know?" you questioned in the sweetest tone he'd ever heard as you connected the flower crown into exactly what it was supposed to be.

the ghost of a smile on your lips was enough to have him do the same.

but the sound of a horn stopped him from answering your question.

a cold fear suddenly fell over you. you knew what the sound of the horn meant.

acid fog.

your wide eyes turned to murphy, standing as you dropped the flower crown onto the log you'd been using as a seat.

"shit." the boy mumbled, dropping the wood against the grass and turning to look at the cabin.

you were too far away from it, you'd never make it in time, the acid fog would get there quicker. "what do we do?" your worried voice caught his ears and he could see pure terror etched to your face, inching closer to him.

"it's okay, it's okay, c'mere." he pushed his hand out, wavering you forward and you merely clutched the hem of your dress between your fingers, eyes looking past the meadow. "c'mere, angel, i've got you."

you were too far from home.

it was one of the main reasons that you hated leaving home. you could never be prepared, not all the way out here.

however, you complied anyway, putting your life's trust in murphy as he suddenly clasped your hand, leading you the opposite way of your home.

"murphy? murphy, where are we going?" he could hear the horror slick in your voice, it was an unusual sound. there never was much emotion in your voice, as if you could only ever mumble.

the sound of you... fearful made his heart lurch. he suddenly wished he could take care of you in any way you needed, make sure you were never put in harms way again.

"'s okay, just follow me, i know a place." he turned behind him, knowing he shouldn't have looked back. he sucked in a breath of air at the sight of the airy yellow fog. "gotta pick up the pace, sweetheart." his voice suddenly panicked.

and you did just that.

murphy was faster, though, leading the way with your hand wrapped in his own. you ran until your calves burned, eyes widening when murphy suddenly stopped. but you didn't question him.

funnily enough, you trusted him.

and your parents must have trusted him too, leaving you alone with him.

he reached down, clearing the ground of leaves and sticks, a metal door was suddenly revealed. you looked at murphy with confusion. you'd lived here your entire life, how did he know more about this place than you did?

nonetheless, he ushered you inside. "there you go, atta girl." allowing you to walk down the narrow ladder and following you less than seconds later.

with no time to waste, the boy grabbed the handle of the door and slammed it shut, allowing the acid fog to travel through the air, passing over the bunker completely.

as your feet hit the ground, you instantly took in the bunker. it wasn't huge though it wasn't necessarily small either.

but you couldn't take notice of the things around, too focused on what was happening outside. your chest heaved, heavy breaths leaving your lips. though it felt like nothing was leaving you, as if you could only breathe in. there was too much inside of you.

your hand grasped at the nape of your neck, feeling all too overwhelmed.

this was the first time in your entire life that acid fog had hit when you were so far away from home.

"hey, hey, hey." murphy seemed to notice your panic. "you're okay, we're safe in here." even though you trusted him, you still couldn't seem to believe. not in him, no, just that anyone like you would get lucky. you hadn't experienced a day of luck in your life. "look at me." your watery eyes turned to him. "you're safe."

and suddenly the boy did something that nobody else had ever really done.

he took you in his arms, and he cradled you, hugging you close.

it took a moment, a beat of silence before your arms could wrap around his own body, a weight suddenly lifted off your shoulders. it was as if by embracing you, he took half of all that worry and knocked it off your shoulders. it didn't heal you completely, sure, but that was magic enough.

your breathing slowed and you felt the boy gently pull away from you, though his palms were still steady on your arms. "okay, angel?" you nodded, avoiding his eye. "good, c'mere."

the boy helped you sit on this mattress that lay in the corner of the room, tattered grey sheet laying on it and a single duvet, covered by a black cover. you glanced around the 'room', boxes and desks, little objects littering around the bunker. "did you stay here?" you questioned, turning to him. "before you found us?"

"for a bit." he shrugged. he was looking at you closely, eyeing you. it wasn't often that you could stare into his eyes and not back down. he wasn't going to give this up. "then i went back to my old group for a while and well, i guess... you saw how that turned out."

briefly, your mind travelled to the day he first came to your home, covered in bruises and blood.

they did that to him?

you weren't so sure, john murphy seemed to have a knack for trouble. but that was simply a question for another day.

the sound of wind gusting from above the bunker caused your eyes to snap up to the ceiling.

"you can relax." he spoke, a gentle hand comforting you against your thigh. the feeling was enough to excite something from you. "we're safe in here."

"okay." but your pitch was high and your voice was wobbly. you were never a good liar.

"hey, you know that flower crown you were making earlier?" you nodded in response, listening to his voice. you knew he was only trying to get you to stop thinking about the wind out there. but you couldn't help it, it appeared to be working. "think you could make me one too?"

"i don' know." you glanced down at your lap, hands fiddling with your own fingers. "they're not very good?"

"are you kidding me?" despite his words, his tone was soft, adoring even. "they're amazing. i need you to make me one."

you couldn't stop the gentle curve of your lips. "yeah?"

"yeah." he grinned, "we can wear them together. you know, like king and queen." he nudged your shoulder causing a giggle to leave your lips. he suddenly noticed you staring. "what?"

"nothing." you huffed out a laugh from behind your grin. "i just... guess i was hoping someone like you would come around and then you just... fell from the sky."

main masterlist/murphy's masterlist

[nthspecialll]

Dutch Van Der Linde as the saviour and his early crime life.

Dutch Van Der Linde and his early life beyond the fact that his father died in the war and he ran away from his mother at the age of 15 is a mystery to us as players, however due to the fact he prefered a life of petty crime we assume that his mother was a terrible person, something that might not be true.

Unlike the majority of the gang Dutch does not have evidence of a terrible childhood, he was not orphaned, he was not fleeing from the government, he did not fear for his life and we cannot say that his mother was abusive, almost quite the contrary.

In Dutch's own words, he ran away because he and his mother "did not see eye to eye," and while this can indicate abuse the fact he follows up with "I was not always an obedient child" very much makes it seem like it was his own fault. He continues to talk about how they both loved one another in their own ways, meaning he ran away not because he had to but because he wanted to, especially as the reasons he was "not an obedient child" could very well be because he was young and rebellious.

What makes this even worse is that Dutch mentions having had a price on his head for fifteen years while he actually has been on the run for 29 as he is 44, this means for 14 years he committed crimes, did not have a price on his head, and had the choice to turn back to a "regular life." Now he might just have said 15 as a "about this many years but not the exact" but you don't get it wrong by 14 years.

Dutch mentions that he did not know that his mother was burried in Blackwater but was only told a few years later by an uncle. His mother died in 1881 (her grave can be found), he met Hosea in 1876, met Arthur in 1877 and had been on the run since 1870, meaning he was still in contact with his family at least in 1884, seven years after meeting Arthur.

Milton talks about Dutch being a Messiah, a savior for the people, and Dutch keeps saying "we" this and "we" that but the truth is he is nothing like them, Dutch chose his situation and had many chances to turn back but didn't, while the others in one way or another was forced into it. He also has many advantages, such as being in contact with his family, something which a character like Javier is forced not to and we only see one other character cannonically do, Pearson. Not only that but Dutch often reinforce his role as a boss by having his own tent, having expensive clothing, telling Molly that she doesn't need to work for the mere fact that she is his girl. He does not need to do this, everyone is already loyal to him, yet he does it for nothing more than to serve his own ego.

Now some would say he ran away to make a better world, but there is something wrong with that theory.

Dutch's favorite author is Evelyn Miller who is based on the real romantic/transcendentalist writer Henry David Thoreau. Romanticism is a philosophy that dislikes the wealthy and the industrialization and wants people to embrace a more "authentic" life, which is why Thoreau as a more wealthy man wanted to do an experiment for two years where he moved into a cabin. He wanted to, for the experience of it, live in the woods, such as Dutch did not run away from his possible rich life because he needed to but for the experience of it.

Dutch did not spoil his chance at a normal life for love, he didn't spoil it for "a better world," he didn't spoil it for necessity, he spoiled it for fun, for the experience.

Imagine being Javier, hearing the man who claimed to understand you, say that he still is in touch with his family while you don't know if your sister is even alive. Imagine being Arthur, hearing the man who claimed to understand you, say that he chose a life of crime as an experience while you were forced into it to survive and now hate yourself for it. Imagine being Charles, hearing the man who claimed to understand you, say he chose to hurt for fun while you wish you had another way.

Based on conversations I had with @werewolfarthurmorganenjoyer and @heavenlymorals.

[reidsbookclub]

Yours Truly Spencer Reid x fem! reader WC: 2555  fluff pure fluff tw: mentions of Gideon's death

AN: ending is a bit rushed but when I copy & pasted here I accidentally deleted it and couldn’t recall everything I wrote 😩

It’s been three months living with the knowledge that Gideon is no longer there. His conversation with Rossi was haunting him in the middle of the night. “I know I’m not being very rational,” he had told Rossi, “but I think about him all the time. And I knew he was always out there, now it just feels empty.” Rossi’s words still echoed in his mind. “Maybe you’ll find something else to fill the empty space.” He couldn’t even begin to imagine finding anything that would fill the void of now knowing that his mentor would no longer be just a call away. He needed to find a way to feel close to him, so he put pen to paper and did what he knew best: he started writing Gideon letters with the intent of them being addressed to fire. He put pen to paper and tried to connect it to the cloudy thoughts of his brain. After a couple of hours he fell asleep with the warmth of the fireplace enclosing him in a hug. 

Not even in his wildest dreams did he ever thing that letter would get read and replied to. 

It had been three months since her godfather Jason had passed away, three months of losing the only father figure she had had. If she didn’t know any better she could’ve sworn that he was still around, his presence felt throughout the small cabin she was inherited.  Stephen, Jason’s son, had delivered a letter stating such. The simple letter in the testament read, “Y/N, just know that a very good friend of mine holds a key to this cabin, he might drop by if he feels the need to feel close to me, or just an escape from the darkness of this world. Be kind to him, Dr. Reid needs some warmth, kindness and love in his life.”  

Days later she found a piece of paper on the floor of the cabin. She really needed to seal the mail slot on the door and install a mailbox.  But she couldn’t help but let out a gasp on who sent it, the Dr. Reid in her godfather's letter. 

Dear Gideon,  It’s been three months since you’ve passed and I can’t help but ask why I never reached out to you when you left the BAU. 

Oh. So he’s a coworker. She wondered if he helped found the BAU alongside Rossi and her godfather, suddenly wondering if Dr. Reid had many stories about her godfather’s younger days.  Silencing her thoughts, she continued reading. 

You know how I’m a specialist at overthinking everything and I just can’t help but wonder if I still have a place in the BAU now that you’ve gone. 

Who is this Dr. Reid? 

Gideon I’m becoming a mastermind at vanishing into the deep thoughts of my brain in the middle of the night. Midnights have now become my afternoons. I miss the talks we used to have. If I’m being honest I’m finding it so hard to find my place with the team now that I can’t just hide in your office. Can you believe Morgan invited me out to the club? Me. 

Club? Was Dr. Reid not an old guy like her godfather or was Morgan just being nice and inviting a mentor out to drinks?  Curiosity getting the best of her, she continued reading the letter, hoping to get more answers on who Dr. Reid really is. 

You always used to say my first degree was running away into the deep thoughts of my mind but I think I have added a fourth Ph.D to my resume and that’s being my own worst enemy. 

Multiple Phds? She couldn’t even finish school. Who was this guy? 

You know how hard it is to admit it to myself but I miss you Gideon. Sometimes I still talk to you when I feel like screaming at the sky, angry that you left me with nothing but a letter, just like everyone else that had ever left me did, but I can't be angry at you.  -SSA Agent Reid…. Yes I know, Gideon. I need to make people respect me. So I guess I’m signing off as, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid. 

He wouldn’t need to make people respect him if he wasn’t young? Would he? Not being able to get her mind off the mysterious Dr. Reid, she decided to write him a letter.

Coming back from a demanding case always felt like a relief and the worst thing in the world at the same time. Relief for finally being home and the worst thing because once you’re home, warm in bed, your mind starts reliving every little thing you could’ve done differently. This night would be different. Spencer was greeted at the door by his Russian Blue cat named Atticus and a tea-stained letter on his mailbox. 

Dr. Spencer Reid, I must admit that receiving a letter addressed to my godfather was surprising, I fully apologize for opening and reading your letter, I assumed you meant for no one to read it. Have you ever been to my godfather Jason’s cabin? If you have, then you must know that there is a small town that is 15 miles away. I went there earlier today and down the block from the main road there is a small antique shop. I stopped and entered, always curious about the stories that old items have, who owned them? Were they special to them or just small trinkets, why did the owner sell them? All these questions. No answers. Anyways, there was a box filled with old drawings and photographs. 25 cents each and I couldn't help but buy some because they all reminded me of you.  You must think I'm insane for saying that something reminded me of you when we have never met, so please don’t profile that too much, anyways, these photographs had me imagining things. It's crazy. Heck, I don’t even know anything about you. Yes, I could look it up but where's the fun in that? Is it crazy that I can’t help myself and imagine who you are? That I cannot help but think of all of these little scenarios making a film about your life. I’ve been rambling too much about nonsense so take care Dr. Reid.   - Hope you stay safe  Y/N

Reid read and re-read the surprise letter. Atticus on his lap sleeping. Goddaughter, why couldn't he recall Gideon ever mentioning a goddaughter. Who was she? Based on the letter she rambled…a lot and got excited about the most random things. Reid let out a soft giggle startling Atticus. “I think…I think I want to write another letter, Atticus. She seems fun to talk to, don't you think?” 

Silence. That is all she heard for three long weeks cursing herself for responding to his letter the way that she did.  He must’ve thought she was nothing but a foolish petulant child with her dreaming and fantasizing about different worlds and what ifs. Just as she was wondering if she should write another letter apologizing she heard the unmistakable sound of papers being thrown into the mail slot. “Thank you!” she shouted through the door to the mailman. One coffee-stained envelope standing out over the spam ads she got.

Dear Y/N, I must admit writing a letter to you seems a bit strange so please bear with me if I seem   awkward,  I promise I am working on it. Shit I spilled some coffee on the paper, hopefully its not that noticeable. Who am I kidding of course it will be noticeable. Well I am hoping you like coffee smells. Ms. Y/N I hope that the letter I sent you did not cause you any more grief, and please feel free to…how did you put it? “ramble much about nonsense” to me at any time. I thought it was cute. Well now I am thankful you cannot see the blush I have because Derek is sure making fun of me at the moment. I’m sorry that it seems like forever since you last replied to me but the case we had was taking a toll on me and I couldn’t seem to taint your sunshineness with the darkness of the case. I just wanted to let you know that the way you make time disappear everytime i re-read your letter brings me calmness, and brings me hope that maybe someday we could become friends. Please always continue telling me about the little what if scenarios that help you make my life seem more interesting than it is. I find it adorably cute that you do these things. Now I can’t help but wonder if you will think I am just a boring old man that sits in the corner of a dark room– I promise I am not. Anyways, a little about myself I have a cat named Atticus, I enjoy stimulating my brain by learning new things which is how I got three Phds. You can always find me with coffee and a good book and—fucking hell I sound boring as fuck and you give off the impression of being this magnetic carefree beautiful person.   Great, now I am overthinking everything I have said so far – everyone knows that afterall i am a specialist at doing so.  Thats all for now  Sincerely, Spencer Reid. 

She couldn’t help but giggle. All throughout the letter Spencer sounded just like the type of person that she would love to get to know further. Someone that in another life would be considered a tortured poet, living amongst the rest of them in the peacefulness of the lakes, someone that would be rubbing elbows with Wordsworth and Austen. As she re-read the letter she was trying to ignore the blush that spread across her cheeks at Spencer using the word cute in reference to her. One thing was certain that she would be holding on to her pen-pal because for some reason he made her feel a way no other person was able to do. 

It had been two months since the initial letter that started this newfound friendship Spencer found himself in. The only thing that has kept him going were the weekly letters that Y/N has been sending him. They’re weekly letters always bringing a smile to his face and giving him the necessary “push” in between cases. This new letter brought an even bigger smile to his face and the sudden urge to finally drive up to that cabin and meet the person that has been holding his mind captive all day. 

Dear Spencer,  How is Atticus doing? I know you were planning on adopting a kitten to keep Atticus company while you are away. May I suggest a cute little white cat? Or a ginger cat? Maybe one named  Arlo or Agatha or something old  literature sounding. How have you been? Are the headaches gone? Today I went down to the small village that is close by and there is this new coffee place and I couldn’t help but think about how much you would like it. Would you be interested in ever meeting me there? Keeping this one short and sweet because i did kinda sorta just ask you out and anxiety is at an all time high  - Y/N

There was one thing that Spencer learned that night and that was that for the first time in years he allowed himself to hope that maybe just maybe the person he was falling for was falling right alongside him. 

Girls night. Oh how she missed her friends ever since moving into the cabin. It had taken a lot of convincing but she had finally managed to get her friends up for the weekend. In the middle of drinks she started gushing about Spencer and their friendship. She was telling her friends about the cute pen-pal she had and how she had taken the leap to ask him out. “Ha. What a loser do you really think that and FBI agent will take the time to come and meet someone as boring as you?” Her so-called best friend Lindsey had said, her words ringing in her ear drink after drink. How could she be so foolish thinking that a guy as smart as Spencer would ever confess his love to her. It had been a cold reminder that she was not the exception, that after years of this happening she had not learned her lesson that fairy tale endings did not happen to girls like her. So, for the first time in the two months they had been communicating instead of answering his letter she burned it, eventually leaving him at the coffee house waiting, glued to his chair instead of meeting her for the first time. The following week the first of many daily letters arrived in which he kept asking her why. 

Dear Y/N, Did I do something wrong? Did you move on? Help me because in my mind I'm still at that coffee shop collecting dust wondering where you are, wondering why you didn’t show up. If you ever think you may have got it wrong and want to meet, I will be at that coffee shop every Friday at 7 waiting for my sunshine to show up.  Yours truly, Spencer 

Three weeks. It had been three long weeks since he had heard from her, so he decided to take the initiative and for the first time since Gideon’s death he used the key he had left him. The drive to the cabin was filled with anxious thoughts. Would she be happy to see him? Did she meet someone while they were writing letters? 

Walking into the cabin he could smell something baking and the unmistaken sound of laughter coming from the small kitchen, making his way around the cabin he caught a glimpse of her dancing around the kitchen, “wow you are even more beautiful than I ever thought.” he said catching her off guard. “Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here?” she yelled “Oh–i–right yeah i – Spen–Rei–Doctor” he let out a puff of air, “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Gideon actually gave me a key to this place.” he smiled softly as crimson crept across her face. “Oh, hi wh–a–what are you doing here?” “I was worried about you” he mumbled

“Oh” In any other situation awkward silence would have followed but not between them, instead fits of laughter happened. “I’m sorry I blew you off Spencer” taking a deep breath she continued, “its just… a friend reminded me that girls like me don’t get the cute guys” Taking a step close to her spencer began rubbing circles in her wrist with his thumb “Y/N whoever said that is not a friend. I fell for the personality that shined through the letters we exchanged, I couldn’t care less about what you looked like you were already perfect in my mind and now that I am seeing you I can confirm that you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met” They spend that whole weekend together, the days consisting of  baking, stargazing and teaching Y/N how to play chess and nights filled with cuddles, kissing and watching movies together.

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[pain-is-too-tired]

Will got how much he's willing to push himself too far for others from both Lee and Michael.

Lee was the oldest camper after Luke left. He took care of everything and everyone he could. He helped the Stolls fit into their roles, he did his best to keep others from joining Kronos, and he helped other head counselors who were struggling with their own mixed feeling about Luke's leaving.

Yet,Lee took it harder than most knew. He was head medic at the time afterall, who do you think kept an eye on Percy until he awoke after Chiron helped cure the scorpion sting?

Lee wasn't an expert healer in the way Michael and later Will was, but he was still a healer that took his patients seriously.

When Chris was found, and for a time Clarisse was sent to investigate the Labyrinth, Chiron a couple months in told Lee so he could help tend to the cursed boy when Chiron had to handle camp affairs.

When the rest of the camp were told about Chris, and he was moved to the infirmary, both Lee and Michael focused on trying to get Chris to not withered away. Trying to get him to eat or drink. Lee had to use Will to get Michael to head back to the cabin to sleep.

He spent the last few nights before his death praying to his father that Chris would pull through.

Michael was just the same. He spent many sleepless nights watching over his siblings after Lee's death. Soothing them from nightmares and helping them grieve

But he never dared showed his own grief,instead burying himself in his duties. He fought more with anymore who questioned or messed with his siblings. He broke up fights and chew those in it out. It caught to prove his worth to his siblings and especially to the other head counselors who he felt spoke like they knew Lee better than he did.

One the reasons he protects his rights to the chariot is because he doesn't want to feel like just anyone can boss him or his cabin around. That telling him to give up something his siblings earned just for their own pride annoyed Michael who's been going nonstop after Lee's death.

He only steps back when he sees something much more important is coming up, as he does again when he is a lot more lienant on Percy and Annabeth giving orders. As instead of trying to tell his cabin to give up stuff for their own pride, they're actually giving orders to Michael and his cabin to help save lives and the war.

He holds the line with his siblings against the Minotaur and army. He has to keep going as he watches his siblings die around him.

He dies armed with nothing but one last arrow and a plan. And I fully believe he was tried to fight Kronos himself on his own if he had no other choice.

It's no wonder Will learned to focused on helping others instead of himself. He likely watched his brothers wear themselves down to nothing for camp. Both giving their life for it.

He doesn't know anything else when it comes to being a head counselor. In his head, a head counselor's duty is to give everything for your cabin and camp. If Will doesn't give his mind and body, it's he really doing enough?

Just- ugh. The Apollo cabin head counselors giving all their energy to keep the camp running, only to burn themselves out.

Campers who knew both Lee and Michael seeing Will working away in the infirmary and immediately fearing they might lose him too.

In a way, it's easy to believe that the Apollo cabin is cursed...

They sure do feel like it.

[noirgl0w]

Pogue! Reader who lives in a beachfront cabin that her father built when the obx were not such a touristy place, it's a shit cabin that her father built when he found out that her mother was pregnant, he spent all the money on the land and he had to build it with his own hands.

When Rafe met Reader he knew she was going to live in an ugly place, no pogue from the Cut lived in a nice place, but Reader seems to be fond of that mess she called home, she couldn't live anywhere else, and Rafe is surprised how how unique the house is, Reader has no tables in her house, everything is old surfboards, there is only one bedroom (which is for her) and her father sleeps in a hammock in the living room. The wood creaks every time Rafe tries to sneak through Reader's window, and when it rains there are leaks that leak water directly into Reader's bed.

The fridge is at least 25 years old and Rafe can swear the TV was created in the 80s or something, nothing compared to the plasma TVs in Tannyhill, The bathroom door has no latch because it is broken and it doesn't even close because the wood is gnawed from so many years.

However, despite the decadence of luxuries, Rafe can see something there that he doesn't find in Tannyhill, a home.

And since he wishes he had the relationship that Reader has with his father, a single surfer who is almost 50 years old, they laugh at everything, for Rafe it is as if they were more friends than father and daughter. Rafe has even seen Reader cover up a hickey on her father's neck with his makeup, so he can go on a date with his next hookup.

Ward has told Rafe how he and Reader's father used to be friends, they went surfing together, whenever they hooked up they did it with girls who were friends so they could continue hanging out together with their new girlfriends.

And when Rafe arrives all fired up and furious after a fight with his father at the cabin, He searches for Reader but does not find her and instead meets her father, who gives him words of support and advice that, unlike Ward's, seem to be of some use Rafe can't help but wonder what his life would have been like if Reader and Ward's father had remained close friends, if his father hadn't been corrupted by money, if his father was still a pogue.

Because on movie nights, when it's just him, Reader and her father, he can't help but desire what he's always denied, a life as a pogue.

But since he knows that is not possible, he feels happy here, in Reader's arms, while the three of them watch a movie on that old television.

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Hot July

It’s the middle of summer and the mercury’s rising… Why cool down now? Here’s a long list of hot and steamy fics to keep you busy for a while. A variety of kinks for all persuasions–BDSM, Dom/sub undertones, Father Skippy fantasies, student/teacher sexy times, getting off at the office, Rehoboth Beach bondage and spanking and so much more. One thing’s for sure, they’ve all earned their E rating. Crank up the A/C and check them out!

The list starts with the top ten highest rated NSFW fics in the fandom, followed by everything else in no particular order.

Happy Reading!

Looking for more recs? Check out the FTFR fic register. Not quite what you're looking for? Tell us what you had in mind, here! → 💌

✨ Show the authors plenty of love with your comments and kudos on the fics you enjoyed after reading! Likes are lovely, but please reblog to share this content with your mutuals! ✨

🍑 sacred word, bind me [E, 8K] By brokendrums | @brokendrums Tim takes a vow of silence, Hawk vows to break it.

🍑 We are tragically meant to be [E, 1K] By Fuddlewuddle | @fuddlewuddle He looks softer in his sleep, Hawk muses; fingertips lightly skimming over the ridge of Tim’s cheek bone, the curve of his ear feeling the small indent from where the frames of his spectacles rest whenever he’s awake.

Part 1 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 Teacher's pet [E, 11K] By ascandalinpink | @ascandalinpink Tim’s first class for today is his first class ever in this particular elective. It’s a foreign affairs course taught by professor Fuller, whom Tim has never met, but he’s heard about him. All high praise, which leaves this course highly sought after.

As the professor enters the classroom and the chatter around him dies down, Tim understands perhaps why this course is so popular. And it might have nothing to do with the curriculum itself.

Or, Tim starts sleeping with and develops feelings for his college professor.

🍑 Mad about the Boy [E, 5K] By redmyeyes | @redmyeyes “Tell me,” Hawk said, tilting Tim’s head back to give his forehead a quick kiss, “what does my boy want for his birthday?”

“Am I still? Your boy?”

Part 4 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 More. [E, 2K] By redmyeyes | @redmyeyes Tim wants more. Hawk obliges.

Part 2 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 Feeding on chaos and living in sin [E, 2K] By Fuddlewuddle | @fuddlewuddle Tim doesn't expect Hawk to call. And even when he does, the call doesn't go as Tim expects. But then he should probably stop trying to predict what Hawkins Fuller will do.

Part 2 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 I Guess I've Got The Christmas Blues [E, 5K] By captainquint | @jesterlesbian Tim Laughlin stood in front of Hawk, one hand still raised as if to continue banging on the door, his tweed jacked dotted with snowflakes. Water droplets were trapped on his glasses, maybe from melted snow. But with how red-rimmed his eyes were, there might have been teardrops on his glasses as well.

Hawk’s slightly intoxicated reflexes took a moment to spring into action upon seeing Tim. “Skippy,” he grinned, “what, did you miss me that much? I’ll still be here after New Year’s."

Tim’s face screwed up in a look of righteous fury that Hawk knew meant an argument was coming. And before he could react, Tim was shoving Hawk backwards and into the apartment, slamming the door behind them.

“You absolute ass!”

Or, Tim confronts Hawk about his being investigated by the M Unit.

🍑 the thrill of your sweet embrace [E, 4K] By redmyeyes | @redmyeyes 1957 anthology series. Standalone chapters of missing/extended scenes from 1957.

Part 7 of Fellow Travelers

🍑 Love [E, 2K] 💠 By Ikharys "It's going to be okay," Hawk whispers. Something in Tim's eyes makes it clear that he doesn't believe it, but he's not willing to argue. Or, the cabin scene, but a little different.

🍑 Lost Somewhere [E, 1K]💠 By Anagrrl Humming to himself a little, fingers digging into his palms briefly, Tim leans forward.

🍑 Can I? [E, 3K] By mailboxbutterflies | @mailboxbutterflies The kink is consent. The kink is open communication. (But also the kink is praise).

Or, taking the "Is this alright?" line from Ep1 and running with it.

🍑 Who Do You Belong To? [E, 2K]💠 By mrschesapeakeripper “That’s my good boy.” All those years later and the praise still made him blush. Or, the missing scene from the mutual masturbation episode. None of that "no touching" nonsense.

🍑 You taste divine [E, 1K] By nightfall_in_winter | @carnivalrow Hawk joins Tim in the shower in episode 6 because he wants to kiss him...there!

🍑 Love Is An Angel Disguised As Lust [E, 2K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Hawk's eyes darkened, from outshining the daytime sky to rivalling the night. His lips curved into a wicked smirk. If Tim didn't know better, he might suspect he'd just played right into Hawk's hands. "Educate me." That wasn't exactly what Tim had intended. But, his attention caught by the glint off Hawk's wedding ring, Tim decided he could work with that. Or, the edging fic that's probably sixty percent soft.

🍑 I want you to fuck me [E, 2K] By nightfall_in_winter | @carnivalrow THAT scene from Episode 8 but slightly different. :) Chapter 1 is Hawk's POV, Chapter 2 is Tim's POV.

🍑 Educate Me [E, 13K] By fullerthanskippy | @fullerthanskippy A Hawk x Tim AU in which the timelines jump from 2012 to 2014 to present day 2024. When present day Tim receives an invitation to the 10 year reunion of his Georgetown graduating class, he is filled with both hope and dread that he will run into one particular professor.

One man who was the through-line of his two years in grad school. The man who taught him more than he could have ever learned in the classroom.

When Tim is re-acquainted with Professor Hawkins Fuller, he immediately flashes back to 12 years prior, when he first encountered the man that he had no idea would be the greatest love and loss of his life.

Or, tons of garbage filthy smut sprinkled in between pining, angst, and fluff. Contains explicit material including but not limited to the likes of top!hawk, bottom!tim, top!tim, bottom!hawk, dom!hawk, sub!tim, bratty!tim, and much, much more. Enjoy!

Part 1 of Educate Me

🍑 you’re a gas leak and i’m a woodhouse [E, NR, 2K] By Anonymous “I want you to treat me like one of those bathhouse boys.” Part 2 of we do have reputations, we keep it secret

🍑 Rail me until I can't stand [E, 4K] By nightfall_in_winter | @carnivalrow Various missing scenes from episodes 1 and 8. Chapter 1 is Hawk's POV of their last time before Hawk's betrayal. Chapter 2 - Tim's POV of the same scene. Chapter 3 is a missing scene from Episode 1. Hawk is Tim's first because Skippy never went all the way with Bob...

🍑 After Hours [E, 1K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank “That’s it,” Hawk praised, petting through the soft strands of Tim's hair. “Good boy.” Tim moaned softly around him, swallowing him deeper into the blissful pressure of his throat. Or, The office sex fic that no one asked for.

🍑 I Belong to You [E, 2K] By Cyantific | @beyondxmeasure This isn’t even close to how he saw their night ending, but here they are, and if Tim wants it rough, who is Hawk to deny him? Or, the ‘Hit me.’ scene… but a little different. In which Hawk still hits Tim, just not where you think.

🍑 in the still of the night [E, 1K] By thewindyoubargainedfor | @thewindyoubargainedfor Tim stayed up, waiting for Hawk to call. Hawk made it worth his while.

🍑 Only Himself To Blame [E, 1K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank An evening out leads to some fun on the floor.

🍑 All Tied Up With Nowhere To Go [E, 2K] By captainquint | @jesterlesbian “Are they too tight?” Hawk asked, tugging on Tim’s wrists.

Tim’s wrists were, at that moment, bound to the headboard of Hawkins Fuller’s bed by some carefully knotted neckties. Tim was struck by the thought of Hawk wearing one of these ties to work on a later day, becoming distracted in his office thinking of what they had done with them on this night. His mouth twitched up at the corner.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Hawk placed a hand under his chin and tilted Tim’s face towards Hawk’s own. “This is important. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Tim rolled his wrists and wiggled his fingers to show they were fine. “I’m not made of glass, Hawk, you don’t have to treat me like I’ll break.”

Hawk teases a tied-up Tim Part 2 of FT Valentine's Day 2024

🍑Shut Up and Drink Your Milk [E, 4K] By bre_thomas | @bre1995 ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank It all started with Hawk's "shut up and drink your milk" and then whispering how he wanted Tim to "fuck him". With those words alone, Tim doesn't hesitate. An extension of the Episode 8, '57 sex scene.

🍑 they said beware (lord hear my prayer) [NR, 2K] By Anonymous Tim’s eyes strayed to the windows, what lay beyond them—who lay beyond them.

🍑You're an Angel, I'm a Dog [E, 2K]💠 By spiffyyy He was never that good. “Father, forgive me for all the times when I fall short of your standards…” He took a breath and watched the ceiling fan rotate once, then twice. “And I’m sorry for this. It was what you gave me.” Tim picked his phone up and swallowed dryly before tapping on the notification to open Grindr. Or, the unlikely pairing of religious trauma and a Grindr hookup.

🍑Control and desperation [E, 3K] By mailboxbutterflies | @mailboxbutterflies Now Tim was really confused. "H...Hawk I really need to pee—" "I said no. You want to be a good boy for me, don't you, Skippy?" Tim nodded slowly as he started to put the pieces together. "Then hold it," Hawk repeated coolly. Tim saw a familiar fire behind Hawk's eyes. The kind that suggested he would be rewarded if he obeyed. "Okay, fine." And then, "Or at least I'll try." Or, Hawk makes Tim wet himself and then rewards him with shower sex.

🍑 Bloom [E, 2K] By hot_hellboy | @hot-hellboy Hawk fists Tim for the first time.

🍑 Fetch [T, 1K] By Deputy_Buck | @deputy-buck Hawk was consumed in drafting a small speech for a function Senator Smith had organized —something about acknowledging McCarthy's threat to the State Department but encouraging diplomacy— when Tim showed up on his doorstep looking like a kicked puppy. His boy promised that he would be quiet and that all he needed was to be somewhere safe while he felt this way.

🍑 Forgive Me Father [E, 2K]💠 By Loopygrove Hawkins lets Tim finish.

🍑 I want you to fuck me [E, 2K] By nightfall_in_winter | @carnivalrow THAT scene from Episode 8 but slightly different. :) Chapter 1 is Hawk's POV, Chapter 2 is Tim's POV.

🍑 Like Other Couples [E, 4K] By palfriendpatine66 | @palfriendpatine66 After the trip to Rehoboth Beach in ep 3 “Hit Me”, Hawk takes another shot at giving Tim the romantic dinner he wanted, this time opting for a more private affair.

🍑 Have You Ever? [M, 1K]💠 By Cozy_coffee “Has anyone ever licked that cute little ass of yours?” A fic in which a bold Hawk introduces a somewhat shy Tim to the pleasures of rimming.

🍑 hell is empty, and all the devils are here [E, 4K] By alorchik | @alorchik Hawk Fuller, a committed skeptic, spends his summers in a country house, living a solitary bachelor's life. His routine is disrupted when he unexpectedly encounters a young local priest who now constantly occupies his thoughts.

🍑 Our Little Remedy [E, 2K] By captainquint | @jesterlesbian A pinch of teeth at his neck made it known that Tim had heard him. He seemed restless tonight, rowdy in a way he got when too worked up about something. And it usually ended in one of two ways. Either an explosive argument that ended with one of them storming out, or fucking until they both lay exhausted, sweaty and sated. He could work with that. “Skippy, are you trying to ask me for something?” Or, bathroom blowjobs at the Cozy Corner.

🍑 all of my fighting done [E, 1K] By startagainbuttercup | @startagainbuttercup How he spent four weeks not kissing him, Hawk would never know. He doesn’t want to ever, ever stop, as he presses Tim to the door and gently licks into his mouth, touching his face and his solid body under him.

🍑 Chain of Command [E, 2K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Corporal Laughlin and Sergeant Fuller have some fun together.

🍑 'Home' [E, 4K] By bre_thomas | @bre1995 Hawk comes to visit Tim after a rough visit with his parents. And then spends the next morning with Tim. Filler/Missing Scene from Episode 2 'Bulletproof' The "It doesn't matter, I'm home now," kiss.

🍑 Two Can Play At That Game [E, 7K] By bre_thomas | @bre1995 ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Hawk and Tim spend a very enjoyable morning together.

🍑 Got It Bad, Got It Good [E, 4K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Tim is in training for a marathon. Hawk thinks his Skippy ought to stop teasing him so much.

🍑 I Wanna Be a Cowboy's Sweetheart [E, 3K] By captainquint | @jesterlesbian Hawk tipped his hat politely towards Tim, the way he always did when he rode back into town and stabled his horse at the Liberty Bell, where Tim worked as a stablehand. The pay wasn’t much, but it was steady work, and the off-chance of spotting Hawkins Fuller in leather chaps astride a horse sweetened the pot considerably.

Hawk flashed Tim the look that he understood meant “Meet me around the back,” so Tim dawdled for a few moments more, trying in vain to wipe off as much dirt and muck as he could from his shirt before oh-so-casually strolling to behind the stables, where it met the treeline and provided just the right amount of cover.

🍑 Don’t Pull Your Love Out [E, 5K] By Cyantific | @beyondxmeasure Hawk visits Tim in prison, and it stirs up a lot of feelings, and a lot of memories. Part 4 of Man's Second Best Friend

🍑 It's Rude To Speak With Your Mouth Full [E, 1K] By ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) | @bluebellsinburbank Hawk was playing with fire, he knew, but the minute Tim had walked into his office, eyes lighting up just from the sight of him, Hawk had been powerless to resist. Whatever his boy wanted, he would have. And when Tim stepped between Hawk's legs, dropping to his knees with the grace of a lifetime of devotion - well, there were definite perks to working late.

Yet another office sex fic.

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