#LUNA I LOVED THIS PROMPT SO MUCH AND IM SORRY ITS SO SHORT

[tojisun]

kinktober — 20: edging

jake sully x omatikaya fem reader

!! smut - minors dni; a blink-and-you'll-miss-it cervix penetration

kinktober mlist

jake has been at it for hours now, you think. 

time has slipped past your mind, leaving you trembling with the drawl of pleasure that he loved to rip from you; letting it build over and over, driving your pleasure to its peak, almost tipping over, only for him to stop. 

you screamed and wailed at each turn, thrashing on his hold, but jake is resolute in his pursuit of ruining you. resolute in making you feel the drags of unobtainable euphoria. 

you shouldn’t have trusted him, you think to yourself as you blink your eyes close when his cock slips out of you once again – you’ve lost count of how many rounds have passed.

it was jake who asked you to try it out, after all – this tawtute lovemaking. 

(“lemme edge you out, my sweet,” he murmured, pressing his lips against your skin, kissing and nipping. marking. 

“okay,” you told him, mind hazy from his wandering lips. “please make me feel good.”

he pulled back just enough to flash you the dangerous grin that tickles his lips at hearing your words, his fangs glinting amidst the darkness in your guys’ secret place – a product of your shared desire to slink somewhere private. somewhere where date nights could be fulfilled.

“i promise,” he said.)

like a fucking liar.

“jake, please. please,” you hiccup, eyes unfocused from the intensity of the stimulation he’s put you through, feeling the way your skin buzzed, engulfed by uncharted flames of ecstasy.

but jake just slaps his cock on the damp lips of your cunt, smirking even when his eyes have thinned to golden rings, his chest heaving from his own lack of release. 

“shh, yawne,” he murmurs, his voice gruff and rugged. “not yet.”

not yet – you are quickly getting tired of those words. 

he’s been repeating them since the teasing started, pressing the words either on the swell of your breasts or muffling them on the crook of your neck, his nose buried in the most sensitive expanse of your skin where your scent lay the strongest. it was a mantra that drove you crazy, reducing you into trembling with need.

you sob, rubbing your fists against your wet eyes, but jake just croons, teasing, and drags the heavy weight of his cock along your slit and into your entrance once more, slapping the head of it against your hardened nub once, two times, before he breaches past the tender skin and fills you up to the hilt again. 

you howl, pleasure razing your sanity, feeling its tendrils drag from the core of your heat to the bottom of your spine. your eyes roll to the back of your skull when you feel jake’s hand pressing down on your belly, rumbles of elation rippling from his throat. 

“i’m back here again, paskalin,” he whispers, his voice edging into something possessive. “can you feel just how deep i am?”

you grit through the dizzying pleasure to give him a weak nod, your toes curling when jake pulls out only to slam back in, fucking you with a broken tempo. he loves doing this – dragging out his cock in slow strokes, making you feel the entirety of its length, only to punch it into your cunt, the leaking head of it kissing so deep in you. 

“jake, wanna- ah! wanna cum!” you beg even though you know it will be fruitless. because you know him, you know your lover who is too stubborn and playful and selfish. you know that he will drag this on until you are voiceless from crying and your body is trembling uncontrollably.

because it hurts and the hurt is so good.

and jake laughs, a mean and crooning sound ripping from the base of his throat, because he knows. 

he meets your teary gaze and says, “not yet.”

tags: @pandoraslxna @stargirlrchive @plooto @liwooa

[sweetdeathwrites]

Goddess of the Hunt (1/4)

Pairing: Ymir/Fem!Reader (Ymir/Christa?)

Summary: Life and love with her was cruel but you didn't know how you would survive without either.

Warnings: violence, angst, bro I have no recollection of ever writing this???, uhh character death at some point?, unrequited romance probably?, idk where this was supposed to go as a story?

Word Count: 1,040

(Takes place in season 2)

Disclaimer: I don’t know when, or if ever, I’ll update this again! Just a warning! I wrote this a long time ago!... why did I decide this was 4 parts.. WHEN did i decide that?.. I also don’t listen to Beyoncé much so I probably wrote this when i was in A Mood, so if anyone knows why this would be 4 parts... like if it was part of a song... pls let me know..

In response to the third prompt of the May 2017 prompt off on Lunaescence...

(posted from my Luna/AO3 accounts. below is the original A/N) (Hey! So this is part one of a four part fic im writing! This takes place in S2 so read this if you've either read up to Ymir's arc in the manga (if you don't know what I'm talking about, you're not there), watched her arc in the anime, or you don't care about spoilers. The song I used to inspiration was All Night by Beyoncé! This wasn't supposed to be so angsty but that's what I write best so lmao sorry Last note, I love Ymir with all my heart and I would die for her. I would like to cosplay her but I'm like... super short... TT^TT)

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

I found the truth beneath your lies And true love never has to hide Trade your broken wings for mine I’ve seen your scars and kissed your crimes “Ymir, can you come here a second?” She grunted. “Hold on a second, I gotta finish this first.” You smiled as she finished braiding flowers into Krista’s hair. The blonde girl was fast asleep in Ymir’s lap but Ymir promised her that she would make her hair look beautiful, and if Ymir is good at anything, it’s keeping promises. Ymir hummed in content as she put the last daisy in its place and you could just barely see her pleased grin from where you were lying in the grass. There was a gentle shift of cloth and some more shuffling before Ymir dropped herself down next to you and sighed. You stole a glance behind you to see Krista sleeping on Ymir’s jacket. “Ymir,” you chided in a voice cloyed thick with faux admonishment, “You’ll catch a cold like that.” “I won’t.” “Yes, you will.” “Trust me,” Ymir turned on her side to look you in the eyes. For some reason, you could taste phantom tears on your tongue and feel the ache of a heart that wasn’t yours. “I won’t.” Then the feeling was gone. You weren’t completely sure that it actually happened. “The fresh air is nice, huh?” You were brought back into reality by Ymir’s low voice. You brought your attention back to the starry sky above you. Sometimes being in the Survey Corps wasn’t that bad. You got away from the bustling life of the city and got to see the world– or what was left of it– from a sight very few would ever see. It was nice, but it would never make up for the fact that you could die at any moment and no one would notice. “Yeah.” Silence stretched out for a moment before you rolled on your side and started to toy with Ymir’s hair. She raised an eyebrow at you but didn’t move to stop you. “What’re you doing?” You untied her hair. “I want to make your hair look pretty too.” She laughed but was empty. It sounded the same but its bitterness bled from between her teeth and echoed through the meadow. “My hair isn’t pretty.” “That’s not true,” you twisted a lock of hair between your fingers. “It’s very pretty.” Ymir chose not to reply and you took that chance to kiss her hair. She blushed and quickly looked away. She’d never understand how you could do things like that and hold eye contact. It was unnatural. “Idiot…” You hummed in reply and started to plait her hair. The moon made her hair look as silky as it felt and you smiled. Moments like these were few and far in between in the life of a soldier. “Hey, I’ve been thinking…” “Yeah?” “I think I’m gonna cut my hair.” She didn’t look at you. Your heart stuttered in your chest. You didn't know why. “Go ahead.” Your voice was thick in your throat and you wished that the feeling would go away. “I’ll cut it for you, if you want.” “Really?” Ymir looked back at you with wide eyes. “You don’t have to. I can just shave my head like Connie, or something.” Your snorted and Krista stirred. Ymir slapped a hand over your mouth in a panic. “You’ll wake Krista!” “Sorry!” You wiped the tears from your eyes. “Sorry! But please don’t shave your head, I don’t want you to look like Connie. You’re nothing like him and I don’t want to mistake him for you, ever.” She laughed softly, careful not to disturb Krista. “Yeah,” she said, “I can see where you’re coming from.” You were nearly finished with her hair when she asked when you could cut her hair for her. “Whenever is fine.” Daisies, lavender, and aster weaved between stranded of her hair. Echinacea, lupine, Queen of the Prairie curled and settled between empty sections of the plaits and you smiled. “All done.” You raised her hair to her eyes– Ymir could only see the ends of your work and she gasped. “It’s… beautiful…” She turned and looked you in the eyes as she spoke. “Thank you.” This time it was your turn to look away. “No problem.” “Hey, this isn’t the best time…” You glanced up. “But can you cut my hair now?” Ymir pulled a knife out of the belt around her hips. It glinted in the moon’s white light and all you could think of for a moment was that it was your last defense when face to face with a Titan, when all your blades broke, gas gone, and all you had with you was your born natural defenses. This knife was the last defense against looming death, other than your teeth, nails, and piercing scream. But Titans never cared for those last three. “Now? I just finished your hair…” “I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to clean up my hair if we cut it back in the barracks though.” You frowned and Ymir’s torso twisted back to face you. “I’m really sorry.” All you could see was her face, framed by wildflowers and kissed by the moon, and the starry sky above that enveloped the world, no matter how cruel or kind. Ymir’s eyes looked anything but empty and her mouth strained in guilt. “It’s alright,” you said, looking upon the goddess of the wild and the hunt herself– she was Artemis. “I forgive you.” And you took hold of that knife and began to saw through her silky hair, not minding the flowers that tore and bruised along the way. She wanted it short. You felt like you were severing a part of yourself with each cut but you didn’t understand why. “All done.” Ymir brought up a hand to explore her hair. It framed her face nicely, curling in at her jaw. It suited her. “Thanks.”

[my-analogical-heart]

What Did You Do With My Heart

TW: death of loved ones

Word Count: 1011

Prompt: [The Lovely Picture @vixenneko Submitted]

Notes: werewolf au bc im trash

---

He hadn’t done it one purpose. Of course, one would think Roman purposefully wore his dark clothes due to the fact that most of his wardrobe was colorful. It had almost been instinctual to wear dark clothes on today, the day his husband died.

He sighed glancing at his appearance. He looked a newborn vampire. Eyes sunken, skin pale, and a network of veins visible through his skin. It wasn’t entirely his fault that he looked so terrible. He always got like this when he was going to visit Virgil. Everything lost its appeal: food, sleep, sparring.

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the stairs after making sure Logan was watching his son, Tristan.

Logan and the other diplomat were already in the kitchen as Roman eased into room, trying make himself inconspicuous, and sat on Logan’s right.

Their guest didn’t pay him much mind for which he was thankful, but when he looked at him, Roman wanted to butt into the conversation as a vague sense of recognition rolled over him. He had large, beautiful brown eyes, a big smile, and black hair cut short. He was tall, taller than Roman and he was no shorty, with long and lanky limbs. It wasn’t necessarily his physical appearance that felt familiar. It was more of his mannerisms, the way his held herself. Then he laughed and it clicked into place: he reminded him of Virgil.

Virgil didn’t speak with just his hands, like most people. Instead, he spoke with his body, leaning forward, physically jumping into a conversation and maintaining avid eye contact whenever he was invested in the topic.

Finally, the man turned to Roman and introduced himself, but he didn’t hear him. As usual, when any deep thought of Virgil occurred to him, his mind went off the deep end—a point of no return. He excused himself and made a beeline for the back door. Roman promised to wait for Patton, but this visit couldn’t wait.

Roman trampled through the woods in a half-jog, only stopping to make sure he was going the right way. Though he came here often, the path was sometimes lost by falling leaves.

Finally, he made it to the gate. Some years ago, when the official Pack House was built, the headstones that had been place at the various Pack homes (all werewolves were cremated, but the headstones were honorary) had all migrated here, to Westmoor Replica. Around the same time, the then-Alpha set aside a plot of land for all future Alphas and Lunas. There were, roughly, twenty headstones in the acre. The last on the row was Virgil’s.

Virgil A. Sanders

April 24th, 1989 – April 24th, 2015

Our Leader, Our Friend, Our Brother

The inscription was short, and to the point. Much like Virgil himself had been. Roman smiled as he always did when looking at the stone, thinking of what she would say that.

I’m not that short.

“It’s been a while, since I was last here. Sorry.” He sat down in front of the stone. “Tristan has grown a lot. He took his first steps last week. I never thought I’d be so proud of anyone for doing something so simple. Trina almost had a heart attack and wanted to get it on video, but as soon as she got her phone out, he’d already laid down and gone to sleep.” Roman laughed. “I do suppose it had been kind of exhausting for him.” Roman sat for a while, talking as if his husband were really there with him, relaying all of the amazing things their son had did, the pranks Trina pulled on Joan and Talyn with the help of Terrance. He told him about how he and his father had been getting along a little better, but it was still tough.

Rustling behind him stopped his tirade on his father. He turned to see the diplomatic woman bowed at the waist, looking at him hesitantly. “Sorry,” he said. “I make it a habit to pay my respects to former Alphas. It’s because of their guidance, whether good or bad, that I come to meet new people.” He straightened then kneeled next to him. They sat in silence until she spoke again. “Logan told me about your husband. Who he was and how he died from a sickness. I know it never helps, but I’m sorry.

“You know something weird? As he, Logan, was telling me about Virgil, I got this weird feeling I already knew everything he was telling me. And when he showed me a picture, I—I dunno.” Roman watched as he clenched and unclenched his fists. HIs voice shook as he spoke again. “I felt like I really knew him. Like I had known him enough to know that I loved him, but I know I’ve never met him before.”

Tears splattered his fists as he sniffled and tried to wipe his eyes. Roman looked at the leaves that started fall as they drifted towards the ground. “Virgil was like that, when he was alive. He had a way of making people feel at home—despite his sour personality. It was like that could trust him with anything no matter what it was.”

“Even so, you may think it’s weird that I’m crying over someone I’ve never met before, but…” He sniffled one last time and sat up straight. “We never got introduced.”

“I…couldn’t sit through it, sorry. I’m Roman.”

The man clasped his outstretched hand and smiled. “I’m Leo. Nice to meet you.”

[ts-virgil-angst]

vixenneko submitted to ts-anxiety-angst: Does this count as a prompt?

ofc this does this is amazing 

TW: death of loved ones

Word Count: 1011

Prompt: [The Lovely Picture @vixenneko Submitted]

Notes: werewolf au bc im trash

@wikkedwolff @mira-jadeamethyst @genderqueerwriter @goshdarndingdang @finiteframe3 @frustratedwaffle @queerweare @zoeyheys @analogically-prinxiety @polysandershell @prinxietys @polysandershell @inalandofmythandtimeofmagic @thebaagelboy @vampyrsarah @deafinitelyfangirling @z4rylynn @agentflash18 @gaysaxaphone @winds-and-stardust @the-laarmy @cisnesincorbata @fugitive-angel @netzoflix @paragonofsophistication @angsty-anxxiety @kentato-kenreblog @hells-angel-hevens-demon @antisocialili @saltequeen @theanxofthethomas

He hadn’t done it one purpose. Of course, one would think Roman purposefully wore his dark clothes due to the fact that most of his wardrobe was colorful. It had almost been instinctual to wear dark clothes on today, the day his husband died.

He sighed glancing at his appearance. He looked a newborn vampire. Eyes sunken, skin pale, and a network of veins visible through his skin. It wasn’t entirely his fault that he looked so terrible. He always got like this when he was going to visit Virgil. Everything lost its appeal: food, sleep, sparring.

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the stairs after making sure Logan was watching his son, Tristan.

Logan and the other diplomat were already in the kitchen as Roman eased into room, trying make himself inconspicuous, and sat on Logan’s right.

Their guest didn’t pay him much mind for which he was thankful, but when he looked at him, Roman wanted to butt into the conversation as a vague sense of recognition rolled over him. He had large, beautiful brown eyes, a big smile, and black hair cut short. He was tall, taller than Roman and he was no shorty, with long and lanky limbs. It wasn’t necessarily his physical appearance that felt familiar. It was more of his mannerisms, the way his held herself. Then he laughed and it clicked into place: he reminded him of Virgil.

Virgil didn’t speak with just his hands, like most people. Instead, he spoke with his body, leaning forward, physically jumping into a conversation and maintaining avid eye contact whenever he was invested in the topic.

Finally, the man turned to Roman and introduced himself, but he didn’t hear him. As usual, when any deep thought of Virgil occurred to him, his mind went off the deep end—a point of no return. He excused himself and made a beeline for the back door. Roman promised to wait for Patton, but this visit couldn’t wait.

Roman trampled through the woods in a half-jog, only stopping to make sure he was going the right way. Though he came here often, the path was sometimes lost by falling leaves.

Finally, he made it to the gate. Some years ago, when the official Pack House was built, the headstones that had been place at the various Pack homes (all werewolves were cremated, but the headstones were honorary) had all migrated here, to Westmoor Replica. Around the same time, the then-Alpha set aside a plot of land for all future Alphas and Lunas. There were, roughly, twenty headstones in the acre. The last on the row was Virgil’s.

Virgil A. Sanders

April 24th, 1989 – April 24th, 2015

Our Leader, Our Friend, Our Brother

The inscription was short, and to the point. Much like Virgil himself had been. Roman smiled as he always did when looking at the stone, thinking of what she would say that.

I’m not that short.

“It’s been a while, since I was last here. Sorry.” He sat down in front of the stone. “Tristan has grown a lot. He took his first steps last week. I never thought I’d be so proud of anyone for doing something so simple. Trina almost had a heart attack and wanted to get it on video, but as soon as she got her phone out, he’d already laid down and gone to sleep.” Roman laughed. “I do suppose it had been kind of exhausting for him.” Roman sat for a while, talking as if his husband were really there with him, relaying all of the amazing things their son had did, the pranks Trina pulled on Joan and Talyn with the help of Terrance. He told him about how he and his father had been getting along a little better, but it was still tough.

Rustling behind him stopped his tirade on his father. He turned to see the diplomatic woman bowed at the waist, looking at him hesitantly. “Sorry,” he said. “I make it a habit to pay my respects to former Alphas. It’s because of their guidance, whether good or bad, that I come to meet new people.” He straightened then kneeled next to him. They sat in silence until she spoke again. “Logan told me about your husband. Who he was and how he died from a sickness. I know it never helps, but I’m sorry.

“You know something weird? As he, Logan, was telling me about Virgil, I got this weird feeling I already knew everything he was telling me. And when he showed me a picture, I—I dunno.” Roman watched as he clenched and unclenched his fists. HIs voice shook as he spoke again. “I felt like I really knew him. Like I had known him enough to know that I loved him, but I know I’ve never met him before.”

Tears splattered his fists as he sniffled and tried to wipe his eyes. Roman looked at the leaves that started fall as they drifted towards the ground. “Virgil was like that, when he was alive. He had a way of making people feel at home—despite his sour personality. It was like that could trust him with anything no matter what it was.”

“Even so, you may think it’s weird that I’m crying over someone I’ve never met before, but…” He sniffled one last time and sat up straight. “We never got introduced.”

“I…couldn’t sit through it, sorry. I’m Roman.”

The man clasped his outstretched hand and smiled. “I’m Leo. Nice to meet you.”

* * *

As he watched two of the people he loved most in the world from his perch on his headstone, Virgil smiled. He was glad that Drew had done right by him and kept her promise. They would never know the horrors that had happened in the previous timeline and that was for the better. They would finally—finally—be happy even if it was without him.

You asked me what I fought for, Drew. This is what I fought for: the happiness of those I love.

send me a five word prompt!

[bambis-baby]

From bad to better

Annabeth took a sip out of her wine glass. Where is he? She thought He’s almost half an hour late! Annabeth was sitting alone at a restaurant table that had a pearlescent white tablecloth draped over its round surface. It had a candle in the middle that was held by and ornate gold holster. People were starting to look over, noting she was alone and all she could do was bob her head down and fiddle with the edge of the tablecloth. She didn’t want to admit that he probably wasn’t going to show up.

A waiter came up to Annabeth’s table to fill up her wine glass. They had a huge bunch of long, curly hair that was died a plum purple colour, previous brown hair starting to show at the roots. They were rather short, very round, with a greasy face as though they spent all their time in the kitchens, but they were gorgeous. They hair was pushed back behind their ears, their eyebrow piercing a stark contrast to their pale face, blue and purple, hazel eyes glinting. Their nametag said “Bec”.

“Could I get you anything else?” They asked once Annabeth’s glass was full again.

“No, no thank you.” Annabeth replied with a smile.

“You sure? No food or anything? Not even a starter?”

“No, thank you, my date should be here soon.”

“Hmmm. Let’s hope he isn’t too much longer.”.

“Yeah.” Annabeth sighed

“If he doesn’t come soon, I’ll just finish my shift and take his place.” Bec said with a small chuckle, turning their head and walking away.

“Why is she by herself?” She heard from a few tables behind her.

“Where is her date?”

“Nobody should be out for dinner by themselves.”

“Poor girl.”

Annabeth couldn’t take it. She was about to stand up and walk out, leave a $20 tip for Bec and the wine, when a boy with messy black hair and sea green eyes came bursting in through the door. He was wearing a light blue button-down top with a black jacket and grey cargo pants.

“Sorry I’m late babe!” He said loudly, plonking himself down in the seat across from her. “The traffic is crazy right now.”

Just as she is about to ask who the hell he was and what in Hades he thought he was doing he lent in close and whispered to her “Hey, I’m Percy. Just go with it, OK? The guy who didn’t bother to show is an ass and doesn’t deserve you.”

Aww, how sweet. Annabeth thought. He’s trying to save me. I’ll go along with it. And he is pretty cute.”

“Annabeth.” She replied. “Annabeth Chase.”

“Well, Annabeth Chase, what would you like to order?”

“Uhh I don’t know really. I didn’t get the menu. I was waiting for my date to show up.”

“Well, that didn’t happen did it? Let me get someone.”

“No need.” She said as she saw Bec start to come over. “Bec’s coming anyway.”

“Who?” Percy said as he turned towards the kitchens, looking for the allusive “Bec”.

“Hi, what would you like to order this evening?” they asked with a smile. “Oh, you don’t even have a menu! Why didn’t you say anything, let me get you some.”

“No need,” Percy said turning to Annabeth. “Hey babe, I can’t remember, do you like chicken parma?” he asked.

Which was a little weird but, ok. “Yeah, I do.”

“We’ll take two large chicken parma’s please.” He said turning back to Bec.

“With a side of chips or salad?” they asked.

“Chips”. They said in unison. Annabeth gave him a sideways glance, but he was smiling up at Bec.

“Sure thing.” Bec said as they smiled at Annabeth and walked away to give the order to the kitchen staff.

“How did you know that was on the menu?” She asked Percy once Bec had gone. “I’ve never been here before?” “No, but I have.” Percy said turning back to her and crossed his arms over one-another on the table. “I used to come here all the time with my mate Grover and get the same thing.”

Ah. Annabeth though with an imaginary eye-roll Of course, that’s the logical solution.

Bec came over once again “Would you like a drink besides wine?”

“Just water thanks.” Annabeth said looking up at them.

“Water?” Percy said “That’s boring. Don’t get me wrong, I love the beach and the water, but that’s not to drink. I would like a cherry coke please.”

“One water and once cherry coke.” Bec said as they marked it down on their little notepad hanging from their waist. “Sure, let me get that for you

“Wait!” Percy called after them as they started walking away. “Can I get a blue cherry coke?”

A small smile playing at their lips, Bec marked it down on the pad. “I’m sure I can do that for you.”

“Blue cherry coke?” Annabeth asked incredulously. “Why blue?”

Percy shrugged. “It’s a thing my mum and I do. My ex-stepdad told her that there were no such thing as blue foods, so she went out of her way to get mainly blue stuff. Blue candies, blue cakes, blue mashed potatoes, blue icing, blue sour cream…”

“Blue cherry coke.” Annabeth said understanding.

“Exactly.”

“Sounds nice, like a nice family.”

“Ehh….”

Bec came up with their meals and their drinks. “Here you are! Hope you have a nice meal and enjoy your date.” As they were about to walk off they turned to Annabeth, “Next time we’ll have that date.”

Annabeth laughed, “Sure thing Bec.”

As they walked off again Percy turned to her. “What’s with the chips? I could have sworn you were the salad kind.”

“Yeah well, I deserve a cheat day.”

“That you do Annabeth.”

Half way through their meal and when Annabeth knew she was stating to fall for him she got a text message. She checked it under the table.

1 new message: Hey baby, are we still having that date? I forgot and I’m just having a few drinks at the bar with the boys but we can come down if you want? Or we can order pizza when we get home. Whatever is easier for you.

Annabeth made a sound that was between a scoff and a sigh. “’Scuse me Annabeth, nature is calling.” Percy said, making her head jerk upright. “I’ll be right back.”

As he got up and went to the bathroom, Annabeth replied to her message.

No, no date. No boys. No pizza. Were over. You stuck me up and I had been waiting at the restaurant for half an hour and you didn’t show. I am NOT coming home with you tonight. I’m having date-night with someone else. Do you even know what restaurant we were going to?

Annabeth put her phone away not expecting a reply but not too long later her phone buzzed again.

1 new message. Uhhh… Auntie Em’s?

Annabeth couldn’t believe him.

THE LOTUS CASINO

And with that she turned off her phone, just as Percy came back.

“Where were we? Oh yeah, I was telling you about the time Nancy fell into the water fountain…”

A few hours later, Annabeth was saying goodbye to Bec and after leaving them a $50 tip and Percy paying for the bill despite her disapproval, they left the restaurant.

“Hey, uh, Annabeth…?”

“Yes Percy?”

“Uhhhhh….” Percy had suddenly gone very red in the face and was fiddling with the edge of his jacket. “Can I uhhh… Can I…”

“Yes Percy?”

“Can I uhh, maybe have your number?”

“Of course you can. Here, give me your phone.” She said taking it and putting her number into his phone under “Annabeth Chase”.

She gave him her phone. “Your turn.”

When his number was in her phone and she had taken it back he asked “So do you want to do this again sometime?”

“Yes Percy, I would love to.”

And after saying their goodbyes and walking their separate directions Annabeth looked at her phone. “Percy Jackson” was what showed up.

Jackson huh, she thought happily as she made her way home. Maybe this night wasn’t so bad after all.

ITS D0NE, I DID IT. @jinglebeths I DID IT. IM SO HAPPY. I used some parts from the books, mainly from the first one, but anyway. Also, I know what auntie em's and the cassino are, i just wanted to use those as the names.. I hope you enjoy. Thanks to @agendergoldfish (Bec) for being an amazing human being and helping me with this story. And @stars-above-luna for giving us the prompt, also you said you wanted to be tagged in anyone doing a Percabeth version of this, so here.

Enjoy