#and he knew he only had one shot to tell them about the kids

[madsmilfelsen]

Every Dog Has Its Day— (rated m for drugs and alcohol and oh homicide + 1,7k) I had about 17 things I was supposed to do this morning and wrote this instead— a brief prelude to the LOST DOGS series on ao3

tag: first impression, bar setting, murder a bit more than implied but off page, sugar known old man fucker

Rust isn’t one to chase tail, so he knew the women who spur his attraction were trouble. The double take pains him, stomach curdling at the sight he finds. She’s young enough that he’ll get over this as soon as they exchange words, likely any minute since he’s the only goddamn bartender in what feels like all of Soldotna. Maybe she was underage and he could kick her out. He wants to return to numbness as quickly as possible even if he needed to make a reason for her to get. A shot of whiskey doesn’t help none so he reminds himself to card her.

Winter kept her covered, her carhartt jacket zipped mostly up, black hair tucked in the collar. She didn’t come here with the intention to stay. In the first half hour, she doesn’t drink much at all. Nurses one old fashioned ordered and delivered by two friends she didn’t look all that friendly with. She absently stirs her drink like she was nervously guarding it. He told himself he was only paying attention for that reason, to ensure her drink stayed clean.

Staying behind the safety of the bar, Rust isn’t close enough to eavesdrop but their faces were tense in conversation. They sat at an awkward table with poor lighting, the pendent over the pool table hardly reaching them, stained glass reds and blues in the shine of her hair. The girl rolled her eyes like she was being reprimanded by someone she didn’t respect in the first place. Rust didn’t take the two men across from her seriously either. Young bucks, didn’t tip, the shorter one talked under his breath when he ordered a beer earlier, distracting the girl from whatever the other man was saying. He thinks she tells him the shut the fuck up.

Cash is pushed across the table and she looks put out when she pockets it. Rust assumes this is what it looks like it is, but she doesn’t leave with them. Whatever transaction that occurred is of some different nature that makes her scan the room with a sigh. Her gaze lands on Rust briefly and lingers as he closed a tab, dismissing him in a smooth slide when he glances up as if she never looked at him at all. The corner of her mouth quirks in frustration, she bites down on her thumb nail about it.

“Phone’s busted, I gotta ask around,” she says over her shoulder when she hops down and walks to the door.

“How long are we supposed to wait here?” one calls after her.

“Twenty minutes, an hour, what’s it matter to you lazy fucks?” she says crassly with a shrug, voice a little husky and smoke scratched but she doesn’t bother raising it when she pauses by the door. “Tip your bartender.”

Rust pours himself another shot, nearly spilling it when outside the girl is smiling, wide and genuine. The whiskey in his mouth barely registers when he throws it back. She’s been stopped by a regular, Jack, who drinks bourbon neat, four fingers.

“She even old enough to be in here?” he asks Jack when the man sits down at the bar, accepting the glass and ashtray Rust passes to him.

“Your job to card not mine,” he replies with a blatant disregard of someone nearing retirement, that exact apathy is only reason Rust ever hoped to live to his fifties.

“She avoided the bar.”

Jack seems to look at Rust for the first time ever in a new light and laughs, “I bet she did. Don’t worry, that was my niece. I bought her first legal shot four— fuck, two?— years ago. Bailed me and her dad out enough times to owe her at much,” he tells Rust then frowns, “Kid is usually too smart to be seen in places like this.”

“With those two in the corner there,” Rust says with a nod.

“Explains why she was trying to score coke off me,” Jack says after he looked over his shoulder then looked around the Back Bush. “Shit, I’m surprised she didn’t find any here.”

“Slow night,” Rust explains away. “Surprise she didn’t get any off you.”

“Too old to be doin’ that shit if I’m fishing in the morning.”

“Yeah, where at?”

“Skilak. Good lakers in there, takes a little more work. Want to come?”

“Nah. Workin’ til five then sleepin’ til five.”

“Cheers to that, brother,” he says, clinking his glass of bourbon to Rust’s next shot of whiskey he can’t seem to down fast enough.

His sigh rasps his throat raw when she returns later with snowflakes in her hair, a cigarette she got from someone outside hanging from her lip. Rust asks Jack as he’s cashing out, “What’s your niece’s name?”

“Who, Sugar there?”

“Yeah, what’s her name?”

“Sugar,” Jack repeats seriously.

“You fuckin’ with me?”

“Honest to God, Rust. Hey Sugar, get over here, put a drink on my tab while you got the chance.”

“You headed out?” she asks.

“It’s damn near two am, girl, how are you this perky?”

“By learning how to nap in your hunting blind, old man,” she says, playfully pushing her shoulder against his. “Um, could I just get a beer? Kölsch if you’ve got it.”

Jack and the other two boys are gone and she’s sitting alone when he returns from the fridge in the back room with a six pack to put in the front chiller.

Sugar smells like fucking juniper, skin like Yellow Label Alaga syrup that he remembers the taste from the tender age of two. His chin jerks up at the touch of wood smoke and vanilla as she gathers her endless hair in a fist, a silky curtain she pulls out of her collar catching on the rough edges of her jacket.

“Hi,” she says, smile purposely small when he puts a cracked can in front of her.

“You want a glass?” he asks gruffly which somehow only makes her grin bigger.

She shakes her head, takes a sip. Rust leans against the shelves of alcohol, still not far enough when she looks a little too interested over the bottom of her beer.

“I’m told you’re Sugar.”

“Yeah. You looking for something?” she asks, expression dimming a bit as if she assumes his interest in her ended with what she could do for him. Which it should, he tells himself and successfully thinks, more firmly, it does— then terribly; hell, why not. He could use the sleep.

“Quaaludes, anything barbital. I ain’t all that picky.”

She gives him the same confused look he always gets requesting blues, but Sugar seems like she sleeps through the night just fine.

“Beer is the cheapest downer there is,” Sugar points out, chewing on a nail. She’s got good hygiene, hands probably clean enough to eat out of, but still a bad habit is a bad habit. His jaw feels tight. “I guess, I’ve got weed out in my truck, but ludes?” She sucks her teeth. “Hell, I’d have to drive to Homer.”

“I’ll pay you for gas,” he says. Fuck, he’d pay her to drive to Fairbanks just to have her gone longer. The door opens and thankfully, pulling his attention up and over her head. Sugar doesn’t look away from him and gives a sleepy hum that tightens his gut. A decisions seems to be made with a small tilt of her head.

“You workin’ til five or are you on the early shift?”

“Five,” he replies, popping the top off a bottle for a costumer who raised his beer up and walks away.

“Gimme your address,” she says when he comes back reluctantly.

He really does not want to do that but rips a receipt in half anyhow to pen a map down for his unmarked turnoff. Sugar folds it between two fingers and gives a salute.

“See you at sunrise,” she promises and fucking winks at him.

Probably the worst thing a high functioning alcoholic can tell themself is that they know how to drive hammered. It’s a little after five in the morning, the two miles between the Back Bush and his drive way empty even of moose.

The solar panel is covered in snow so Rust is temporarily without electricity when he chose to shovel an extra parking spot rather than climbing on his roof. His watch beeps at him but it’s the sudden static of his scanner breaking with a first responsing officer saying 10-79 which brings him out of the root cellar. The light of his kerosene lantern waning over the boxes of evidence he squirreled into the state before he pushes the trap door shut. Rust kicks the rug back into place when the 11-1 is repeated by the operator requesting backup. Routine information follows; six shots reported by a neighbor, a heed of caution for traffic stops. A second later an ambulance requested in a panic— the officer, probably a kid fresh out of the academy, voice cracking and shaken enough to abandon codes, telling them to get some fucking paramedics for the girl chained up in the basement. Rust turns the machine off, whiskey sloshing in his stomach, shoulders too tired to hold him upright much longer. Men in blue got paperwork tonight, he doesn’t envy them much all these years later.

He adds a log to his fire to counter the open door so Rust could hear the girl— woman, Sugar— pull up. The heat hikes up enough for him to shrug off his shirt before pouring himself a daycap. Through the crack with a wisp off a cool breeze, the sunrise creeps over the mountains, headlights even brighter before the engine outside is killed. Rust opens the door when the girl hops out of her truck, stumbling in the snow. In the dim dawn, she looks pallid and doesn’t seem like she can speak when he nods for her to step down into the cabin. There’s a dark bruise on her throat and her breath wheezes a little.

Rust doesn’t even notice the drugs she passes to him. He can smell her sweat and fear when she roughly unzips her jacket and rips it off. She doesn’t look scared to be here, in his home, but something spooked her tonight. The black wool shirt she’s wearing tight and damp as her lungs trip toward shallow hyperventilation. Maybe he was mistaken, though he knows he wasn’t, he recognized what was on her skin before he steps closer to confirm when her back is still to him. His mind swims in whiskey, surfacing only when he knew for sure— Sugar smells like gunpowder.

Huh. What have you been up to, girl?

[ithebookhoarder]

Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)

Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...

Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable

Masterlist

“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk. 

“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything. 

Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her. 

It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend. 

The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk. 

Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about. 

“Are you talking about Reid?”

“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”

Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”

“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”

“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”

Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?” 

“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”

“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”

“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”

By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through. 

Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”

“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”

“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”

Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went. 

There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either. 

Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined. 

The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket. 

You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’.  Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift. 

Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you. 

“Hey, Spence-“

“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”

You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell. 

“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-” 

“Then what are you doing here?” 

“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”

Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste. 

He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.  

It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear. 

“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”

“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”

“Well, still-“

“Hey, pretty boy!” 

Spencer froze. 

“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”

Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?” 

“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”

“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?” 

“Yes.”

“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”

“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”

“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.” 

The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work. 

“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.” 

“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?” 

“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.” 

He chuckled. “Will do.” 

With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too. 

If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case. 

As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...

[rebelspykatie]

Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football. 

The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 

But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 

So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 

Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 

He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 

Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.

After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 

Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 

He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 

He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.

[pedge-page]

Swim Lessons

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: in Jackson, you find a creative way to get Joel to come to the lake to see Ellie swim.

Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, Joel calls you a slut or whore a few times, fingering, orgams denial, slight belly bulge, teasing, minor breeding kink (honestly I don't count it but maybe sorta), description of female reader body, low key perverted Joel, language, wet Joel is a warning itself.

18+ ONLY, minors DNI

- - - -

You were walking outside, planting flowers outside some of the main walkways when you had overheard the two of them through their kitchen window.

Ellie was begging Joel to teach her how to swim during their first summer at Jackson. There was a lake within the confines of the community that was open for fishing and, during the hot summer months, leisure swimming. What a luxury in the apocalypse.

"No."

"Please??"

"I said no."

"Wuss," Ellie mumbled under her breath.

Joel shot daggers at her, but he was not going to budge.

"Ain't going to no lake and getting my clothes wet just to watch you flail like a kid who can't swim."

"I AM a kid who can't swim, asshole. And you'd have to take your clothes off, duh."

Oh what a sight that would be.

Joel laughed out loud. "Even more reason I won't be there."

Joel turned around and noticed you leaning on the ground, your back turned towards him. He admired your silhouette, the little shorts and tank top covering your backside as you delicately turned over the soil and planted the bulbs. He was unaware that you could hear their conversation, but you were fully aware oh his eyes burning at the back of your skull.

Ellie noticed (she always notices--Joel can't help but make it so obvious when he's staring at you). "She'll be there too."

Joel scoffed, acting like be wasn't checking you out for three silent minutes straight. "Who?" He asks incredulously.

Ellie raised her eyebrows. "Bet she'll wear something cute."

Joel shook his head, acting uninterested. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute eying you up once again and trying NOT to think about the numerous bathing suits he could picture you In, all of which he'd be stripping you out of by the time the sun set.

You hear your name being called from the window by Ellie. You turn around and wave. Joel tries to dodge your eyes, a blush creeping on his face.

"Will you teach me to swim tomorrow at the lake?" Ellie asked.

"Of course!" You responded. "I'll be there at 3."

The next day, right at 3pm, Ellie was right on time. You were stretching along the sandy waterline, watching others kick around the shallow waters and diving into the depths. It was genuinely peaceful.

Ellie wore a full piece that ended in shorts, modestly covering her lower region. You could tell she was incredibly anxious to be standing around in such tight fitting and revealing clothes.

It pissed you that she was alone.

"He didn't come?"

"Said he would think about it. But he was going down for a nap when I left." She mumbled dejected. You watched her twirl her fingers anxiously, watching the dozens of kids and adults freely splashing around the water.

You knew having Joel here would help her confidence, knowing there was someone here who knew her more intimately. The one who taught her to shoot, hunt, and survive. But ultimately, having Joel here would give her someone to bully, and that was a huge confidence booster for the 14 year old.

"He'll come," you said, absolutely sure. "I'll go talk to him in a few minutes. Now let's just standing in the water for a bit, get you used to the temperature."

--

Joel was lying faceup on the couch, his arm propping his neck up against the armrest. He had no plans to go to the lake that day. The less he thought about you, the better off he'd be at resisting your temptations.

A fervent knock on the door startled him. Grumbling, he reluctantly got up from napping position and opened the door.

There were a million things he expected, but you standing there in the most revealing bikini, dripping wet all over his porch, fucking barefoot, was not one of them.

"Hey Joel!" You beamed. You could see his brain stop working as he stood there gawking at you like a fish out of water. "Ellie forgot her goggles so I'm just coming by to pick them up."

"Uhhhhh."

You had to suppress the smirk on your face as you pushed by him to jog upstairs to Ellies room. When you came back, making an obvious show of your breasts and ass bouncing down the stairs, you twirled the googles in your hand. "Got em!"

You made your way to the front door.

Joel still hadn't uttered a word. He was struggling to process what to say. He could be mad that you barged in without permission. Or that you were leaving water footprints all over the floorboards. But no, all that was on his mind was the way the water dripped down your wet hair, running down between the valley of your tits, your belly, cascading along your naval, between your legs. The way the bra did nothing but accentuate your supple breasts, pushing them up and together like they were tempting him. How gorgeous your legs looked with basically string over your hips, and the glistening of droplets against your skin just making you shine in the sun. The entire time he didn't even make eye contact with you, so unaware of the fact that he was staring at every inch of your body. His tongue slowly licked his parched lips. The only thing on his mind was bending you over his knee right now and beating you ass red--

"Ellie's making good progress. Shame you won't be there to see," you said, smile still genuine and sweet on your face as you went to the front door. He finally looks up to your eyes and blushes, quickly looking away.

"Yeah.... shame," he mumbles.

You wave goodbye--making even effort to have your tits sway with the movement, before hopping off towards the lake.

---

It takes all of 10 minutes for Joel to show up at the lake. You know it because Ellie, who was now doggy paddling in the shallow end, stood up and gave a low whistle. You were in the water with her, lying down to submerge your body, when you turned around. God, you wish you had a camera.

Joel stood in the sand awkwardly looking lost and out of place, beach towel in hand, flip-flops and (oh my GOD) actual shorts. You took a closer look, realizing this is the first time you've ever seen his legs (he's always wearing jeans) and notice they weren't swim trunks. They were fucking boxers. To your dismay, he was wear a short sleeves shirt, but none the less, this was most naked Joel had ever been in pubblic. And you could see the same nervous stance Ellie had when she first showed up too.

"Well aren't you pretty, you old fucker," Tommy muttered, whistling at Joel as well. He was sun bathing in his swim trunks, shirtless, with sunglasses.

Ellie bounced out of the water to come oogle Joel, making snide comments. Her attitude had improved immensely, just as you suspected.

"Yeah yeah, shut up." He groaned. "Where are your goggles?"

"What goggles?"

Joel stared at Ellie, then to you. He gave you a knowing, defeated look. You sunk down in to the water so he couldnt see your giggles. He sat down next to Tommy.

You came out, freshly soaking wet in your bikini.

Joel moved his beach towel to his lap, wrapping up towards his lower ribcage to conceal his belly, sitting there with hands by his side, legs bent, trying to hide his obvious boner from the world. Despite how much he eye fucked you earlier, he was doing his best to avoid looking at you now.

"So nice of you to come see Ellie, Joel," you teased. You sat down next to him, softly pressing your tits right against his muscle arm. The tips of his ears were bright red.

"You're supposed to take your shirt off and go swimming," Ellie said.

"M'fine right here. Ain't nobody need to see what's under here."

"Wuss," Ellie mumbled. Before Joel could tut her off, she was leaping back into the water. You and Joel were both extremely proud of the work she had made.

And yes, you could see the difference in her confidence now that Joel was here watching her. You both watched her splash some of the other kids, laughing and enjoying herself.

Without removing his gaze from Ellie, Joel leaned towards you. "You're a fucking tease, you know that?"

He hadn't noticed you had whipped the goggles out. You dropped them on to his lap, causing him to yelp as they grazed the tip of his erect dick under the towel. You snatched his glasses from his eyes and put them over your head, forcing him squint at you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

- - - -

About two hours later, most people had gone home to enjoy a summer nap after a day at the lake. The sun was setting beyond the trees. Joel waved Tommy goodbye, leaving just him, you, and Ellie. You had fallen asleep under an umbrella (an umbrella Joel had to put over you so you didn't burn in the sun while you slept.)

He took his shirt off and slipped into the lake, encouraging Ellie to go deeper into the water, promising he'd be right next to her. You had awoken to both of them comfortably in the water together, Ellie splashing Joel and getting his fluffy hair all wet and tampered down. It made your heart swell to watch the two of them exist as they are without anyone else.

You did your job. Time to go home.

You had started rolling up your towel when Joel's wet hand reached out and grabbed you. You turned around and saw him dripping wet, finally shirtless. Fuck he was even more imposing with less clothing. His soft belly did nothing to lessen his broad shoulders and strong built. Your eyes drifted down to his boxers, now clinging to his muscle thighs and hips and the outline of his big fucking c---

Joel smirked to himself, seeing the blush creep on your face. He realized how the reversal of your roles from earlier still garnered the same reaction.

"Thanks again for coming to teach Ellie to swim," you piped, hoping it wasn't obvious the effect his body had on you for a change.

"You were the one teaching her most of it. Just came to watch."

"Me or Ellie?" You smirked.

Joel rolled his eyes. He would never admit that the main reason he came was to watch you strut around in that pathetic excuse of a bikini for hours. Once you had given him a taste at his front door and left, he botled upstairs, dug through his clothes, searching for swim trunks. He didn't want to see too out of the ordinary when he showed up to eye fuck you for the rest of the evening. Not having a single pair of swim shorts wasn't going to stop him from seeing you in your glory.

He glanced back down to your breasts (now realizing you were pushing your arms together to accentuate their plumpness right at him), licking his lips. Seductively bringing his darkened gaze back to you, you felt your pussy throb with need.

He clearbed his throat. "Well, I was wonderin' if you wanted to--"

Before he could finish, Ellie had slapped a hand on Joel's back, barging in the conversation. "I am soooo pruney! Anyway, thanks for teaching me to swim!" She wrapped Joel's towel around his shoulders.

You and Joel both say at the same time "You're welcome."

Ellie took one look at the pair of you before loudly announcing, "Im going to Dina's tonight. Bye!" Before running off.

And then there were two.

You shuffled awkwardly, avoiding his eyes by playing with the sand below your feet. "You were saying? Wondering if I wanted to ... get swim lessons from you too?"

"Ha. No. Sure you're a fantastic swimmer. No. Wonderin' if you wanted to come to my place tonight."

"Oh? What for?" You teased.

He leaned closer, his fingers dragging your chin so you stare up as he pressed his wet body against yours. He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth before answering: "'Cause I'm not fucking you in some nasty lake."

You gulp, never expecting him to he so forward. For once, he had you speechless while he enjoyed your freezed reaction.

You two had barely made it through his front door before he was shoving his lips on yours, moaning into the kiss. Your lips were dry from the hours in the sun and water, but he was so thirsty for a taste of you that he couldn't care in the slightest.

"Teasin me all day with this fuckin bikini," he groaned, pulling the thin string that held your bilinki top together from the back. The top fell right off, his hands immediately replacing them to rub your breasts. "Knew these tits would be gorgeous," he moaned into your mouth, making you shiver. You closed your lips around his again, feeling his hands travel down your back till they reached your ass, giving a firm squeeze. "Can't believe you went out wearing a fucking thong and calling it a bathing suit."

"This IS a bathing suit," you laughed, licking his bottom pouty lip. "Least I didnt wear actual underwear."

He bit your earlobe, pressing you against the wall. "Gave you something to think about, didn't it?" His fingers were pushing your bottoms aside and rubbing along your soaked folds. You keened into his mouth, eyes closing with head thrown back. You could feel his hot breath on your face. "Fuckin knew you'd be soaked. Not just talkin about the water. Drenched cunt just from lookin at me, huh? Filthy slut."

Holy FUCK he had a mouth, and you couldn't help but feel more aroused from his words.

He continued to stroke your clit with his thumb, two fingers seaking your hole and plunging in at once. "Oh, fuck, Joel!"

He propped his knee between your legs, preventing you from closing them. He let you grind your pussy against his palm while he worked both fingers fast, curling, pulling then pushing in fast rythm, hitting your g spot with deadly precision.

"You like this?"

"Ah huh!"

"Say it."

"I like it! Oh J--m' gonna cum!"

Joel immediately withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the emptiness. "What the f--"

"Teachin everybody some lessons today." He kissed each cheek. "You're gonna learn not to tease me like that."

He continued to press his lips all over you you, refusing to put his fingers back on your aching clit. He resorted to grinding his wet bulge against your mound. You gasped at the sheer size of him, desperately needing that thing inside you.

Between kisses, you had gripped his hair which had now started to curl again around the roots. You managed to say, "Shower."

Joel scooped you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs. He placed you down in the bathroom slapping your ass.

"Take that rudiculous thing off," he ordered, nodding to your bikini bottom while he stripped off his own wet clothes off.

Your thighs clenched at the sight of his erect dick bouncing up to his soft tummy, standing tall, dripping a healthy amount of precum. It was flush red, angry at the tip, pulsing towards you. "See what ya do to me?" He wrapped a thick hand around the shaft, pumping it slowly while watching you. "Been like this all day cuz of you."

Your eyes never left it as you stepped backwards into the shower. He followed you in, shutting the curtains behind him.

While you turned on the shower and adjusted the heat, you could feel his lips met the back of your neck, slowly trailing down your shoulders and back up your spine. His stiff cock pressed between your silky thighs, rutting against your ass each time with desperate thrusts. You could feel your cunt aching at his earlier denial of your orgasm. You sigh heavily once the heat sprays you both. "Should get clean first before our mouths get too busy."

Joel nodded. You had lathered each other up, taking extra care to slick up his dick while he rubbed suds all over your ass, tits, and folds. He grunted, smiling when you would twist your wrist at the tip before fisting his cock repeatedly.

"Beautiful," he whispered against your lips.

His hand crept lower to your ass then down one thigh, hosting it up and around his hip as he drove your back against the slick wall. His other hand notched his cock at your entrance, teasing it.

"Gonna be a good girl and take this, yes?"

You bit your lip, avoiding his eyes. Of course you wanted to take that big fucker, ride his dick until morning. But you wanted to see how far he'd go just to "teach you a lesson."

Joel didn't like your lack of response. You felt a bot hand wrap around your throat, straitening you up. He pressed his face so close, his nose pushing against your cheek.

"SAY IT."

"'m gonna be a good girl, take your cock," you pleaded, unable to put up a farsce anymore. You smirked, and God, you were gonna be the death of him.

Joel impaled you on his full length in one thrust. You gasped, head slamming against the tile. "Ow!"

Joel's hand gently cupped the back of your head, rubbing the ache. "You okay?" He asked. He stayed still inside you.

You were so overwhelmed with how full you felt, how he just throbbed against your walls, that the pain in your head subsided quickly with his soft touch. "Just fuck me, pretty boy," you moaned.

He brought his lips to yours before beginning his assault, bringing both legs around his waist as he fucked you against the wall.

You had noticed it earlier when he emerged from the water with Ellie. How he'd run his hands in his wet hair, the wait it plastered smoothly against his head. It made him look both younger and older all at once. Mature and aloof, bold and serious, yet tender and like a playboy. It made you realize just how badly you wanted to be in this position right now, his cock ramming against your cervix, taking you like you were his.

"Little pussy so fucking tight, baby," he growled against your chest. "Fucking made to take my cock, ain't that right?"

You nodded again, whimpers and little shootings being the only sounds that could escape you.

As the water washed away the suds from your body, Joel took the opportunity to suck one breast in his mouth, biting your nipple. You dragged your hands into his hair, clenching tightly, wanting less, wanting more, wanting him.

His lower belly was grinding perfectly against your clit, your climax finding you quickly. "Joel," you warned.

"Go ahead, baby. You earned it. Cum on my cock."

And you were, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you cum, cum and cum, pent up from not just today but from the weeks and weeks you had been teasing, trying, testing Joel, just to get you here. You smiled sadistically, still on cloud nine, rubbing your pussy against him.

Joel glances down at the sight of his cock disappearing into your warm heat. "Ooohh f-fuck baby. Look at that."

You looked down with him, watching a slight bulge appear and disappearing against your lower tummy with each puncture of his cock deep inside you. He pressed a palm flat against it, your walls clamping down on his dick even harder. "So big, Joel. Fills me up so good."

"Yeah? Been thinking about this cock filling you forever, haven't you? Doing whatever to get me to fuck you. M gonna give it to you, sweet pea. Every fucking day. Every night. Just keep those legs spread f'me, ya hear?"

"Yes yes yes yes, oh God yes, Joel!" You could already feel a second orgasm building inside you. You leaned back further into the wall, leveraging yourself to help bounce on his cock with each thrust.

"Little whore. Fucking yourself on my cock like that. Gotta ride my dick like this later tonight, okay? Ain't gonna last much now. Been needing you too much." He was grunting into your shoulder now, letting out needy groans as he neared his end. "Where do ya want?"

You shouldnt. Should be smart about this. Especially your first time with him. Especially in the apocalypse. Especially without any protection. But Your body had a mind of its own now, that familiar feeling climbing higher and higher deep inside you. Your ankles hitch around his back, caging him against you, reducing him to shallow, deep thrusts inside.

Joel could feel your tight draw to him. He smiled against your neck, thrusts picking up pace. "Tell me. Need to hear ya say it."

You gripped his hair again, making him moan, yanking him back to look you in the eyes. "Want your cum inside me, Joel Miller."

He drove his hips into yours like a mad man, fucking himself as deep as possible, teeth gritting, never once breaking eye contact, and then suddenly the both of you were seizing up, eyebrows scrunched together, mouths agape but pressed together as your orgasms washed over you. You could feel hot ropes of his cum pump deep inside, one, two, threefourfive--six healthy strings of pulses, emptying his load into your womb.

You both panted loudly, the only other sounds being the steady cascade of water down the drain. Joel peppered your lips in light kisses as you both came down from your highs. You could hardly form your lips to return the kisses, instead now realizing just how light headed you were feeling after the best cum of your life. Joel felt your legs loosen, barely catching yourself, as his cock slipped from your embrace. Strong arms didn't let go of you, watching as your eyes close, blissfully, your skin hot from the water.

He turned off the water and carried you to the bed, gently lying you down. He dried you up with a towel, with extra care against your battered pussy. Copious amounts of his cum was leaking, and he had to restrain himself from putting his hot tongue between your legs to clean you up, enjoy the taste of both of your mixed cum bit more. No, you were half passed out, skin aflamed from the hot shower. You needed tending.

He disappeared from the room for a moment, naked wet ass and all, before reappearing with a bottle.

"Need to start hydrating more if you're gonna be out in the sun all day, lady." He helped tilt your head up so you could take gulps of much needed water. You broke away to breath heavily, some water slipping down your chest. Joel didn't hesitate to drag his tongue up your skin, sucking the water off. You smiled dreamily.

"That's what you're here for."

- - - -

You napped, fucked again, ate, sucked his cock, then he ate you out, fell asleep, and then woke up with his cock buried inside you again.

The next morning, Joel got an angry Maria banging on his door, cussing him out for using too much water for your extra long shower yesterday, causing a shortage of heat and fresh running water for the surrounding 6 homes.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part one) | neil lewis x reader

title comes from the song you already know by bombay bicycle club

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. will you ever find the courage to tell him the truth?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | alcohol consumption, 'kid' as a petname, reader being kind of a femcel, jonathan being kind of mvp??

Neil had asked you to make sure the Thriller section was alphabetized; sometimes you thought he was just giving you tasks to look busy, but then again, you could probably use it since the employees of Gumshoe Video never looked very busy.  You spent most of the day on the couches, watching whatever old bizarre gem Neil put on— sometimes you thought he only had employees other than himself so that he could pay people to sit here and watch this stuff with him.  

But, the point is, you were sorting tapes.  Because everyone needs their VHS thriller movies to be in perfect alphabetical order.

There actually was a customer in the store, for once, so it was better not to be on the couch anyhow.  You hadn’t really noticed him when he came in, but as he wandered around the shelves, he seemed to drift towards you.  

You tried to ignore him when he stopped right beside you— and kneeling to look at the lowest shelf, he towered over you— but when you stood up he got your attention.  

"Need any help, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning in a little too close.  "I'm kind of a movie buff."

He had a frat guy kind of look about him— polo, boat shoes, quaffed blonde hair.  He could be good-looking, you thought, if he didn’t dress like a discount Abercrombie model… and if he didn’t hit on random women at the video store.  "I actually work here," you corrected, barely looking up from your task.  This is why we need uniforms instead of just dressing up to promote specials…

"Oh, really?" he smirked.  "What made you wanna work in a place like this?"

"My best friend owns the place," you explained, "and I'm, you know… kind of a movie buff."

"Right," he said, not seeming convinced.  "You like Kubrick?"

You rolled your eyes so hard you almost choked: Wow, what a deep cut.  But you kept a straight-ish face when you looked at him.  "Yeah, he's pretty good.  Don't care for how he treats his actors, but he was certainly a visionary."

"What are your top five favorite Kubrick movies?"

You knew this guy was a tool, but you were still a bit shocked that he actually had the gall to quiz you.  "Excuse me?" you scoffed incredulously.

"Can you even name five?" he asked, looking horribly proud of himself, and you straightened up as you glared at him.

"You're heterosexual, right?" you asked him, getting a confused nod.  "Can you name five women you've made come?"

Neil watched the guy storm out, Lucien cringed a bit from behind the register— and Jonathan, not seeming as if he had been paying attention at all, kept laying across the couch and tossing a ball up in the air to catch and throw again.

“Okay, that’s gotta be the third this week,” Lucien groaned.  “What are you saying to these guys?”

“Nothing worse than what they’re saying to me,” you assured with a frustrated, sarcastic smile.

“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” Neil began, “that guy totally deserved it— but maybe, you know… work on your demeanor with customers?”

“Wow,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, “do you think I should smile more, too?”

“Wha— no!” Neil denied.  

“Yes,” Lucien said at the same time, though he changed his answer with an awkward cough and mumble when you both shot him a look.  “No, no— you’re good— you smile too much, even…”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Neil promised.  “But I think half the guys that come here are just coming here to see you!  Nobody even rents movies anymore.”  He groaned a little, dropping his shoulders defeatedly.  “Can’t you… tell them you’ll go out with them if they rent something?”

“What?!” you squeaked. “No!”

“Sales would double,” Lucien nodded.

“No,” you said again.  “I’m not letting you pimp me out to sell tapes, Neil.”

“I just mean— maybe you don’t really go out with them,” he suggested.  “Just… allude to the fact that you’re only interested in guys who…”

He trailed off as he searched around the shelves for a bit, smiling when he snagged a copy of The Maltese Falcon.

“— in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” he grinned, “you know— for example.  Then they rent it to impress you and we make a few bucks.”

“I am only interested in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” you frowned, snatching the tape away and shoving it back on the shelf.  “But that’s not the point.”

“Maybe you have to be more straightforward, you know,” Jonathan butted in as he sat up, “guys are dumb.”

“Yeah!” Neil agreed a little too easily.

“Just say something about how a massive VHS collection turns you on,” Lucien suggested, and you glared at him.

“Jesus!” you protested, but Neil tried to soothe you a bit.

"C'mon, kid, can't you just… flirt a little?  Get our sales up?"

He'd started calling you kid since you two watched Casablanca together— which was especially stupid as you were both twelve at the time.  At first you complained because he shouldn't be calling you kid with you both being kids; then you complained because neither of you were kids; and then you gave up.  You still punched Lucien for trying to call you that once… you only barely let Neil get away with it anyways.

But you let Neil get away with a lot.  It was a side effect of being secretly, but massively, in love with him.

It had been an issue since middle school— that was when the two of you became such good friends.  Technically, you’d known each other since first grade (where you had shared your crayons, a true test of friendship at the time), and you’d sort of had a crush on him as early as elementary school (mainly because he was the only boy you could stand at the time), but it all kicked into high gear in seventh grade.  That was when you became inseparable, when you got in trouble together, when you stayed up all night watching movies, when you went through all of life’s ups and downs together: you even went to prom together, platonically of course.  

As for your feelings, you’d managed to hide them this long and still be his best friend, even when it sometimes felt like letting him stomp all over your heart without even trying.  Honestly, the only thing harder than being in love with Neil was trying not to be in love with Neil: you adored his sense of humor, his generosity, his sensitivity— and he’d been there for you through the things you couldn’t have imagined surviving alone.  That kinda stuff bonds you to somebody… and when that somebody has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, it’s hard not to fall in love.

“Maybe I would flirt if I knew how,” you offered.  “But I’m not exactly, you know, flirty.”

“How hard could it be?” Jonathan interjected.  “Just, you know—”

You stared in quiet disbelief as Jonathan attempted to push his chest together with his arms.  It wasn’t quite working, of course, and the rest of you watched on as he fumbled around trying to force some cleavage.  “You look like an idiot,” you finally informed him after letting him do it for a minute.

“But is he wrong?” Lucien wondered.

“So, what, you guys really think that if I just went up to customers and—” you pushed your breasts together with your arms, accentuating them significantly in your tank top.

“That would work,” all three men asserted in unison before you could even finish.

“I fucking hate you guys,” you grumbled under your breath as you walked to the back, deciding to take your break in Neil’s office until these guys got their act together.

You never stayed gone for long, though— as idiotic as they could be, your friends were certainly charming.  They won you back with a promise to let you pick what tape to put on, and the four of you ended up laying on the couches watching Roman Holiday.  

When the movie was almost over, you rested your head on Neil’s shoulder; you guys did stuff like that, it was normal for you, but it always made your heart skip anyways.

~

This time, you were all hanging out at Jonathan’s primary workplace: the club.  In fact, it was a much larger crowd than just you and the guys— plenty of your local friends and loyal supporters of Gumshoe Video, all sitting around a big table while someone’s mediocre cover band took the stage.

"So, uh, me and Denise broke up," Neil said suddenly, going back in for another swig of beer right after.

The others offered their mild shock and half-hearted condolences, but you knew it was going to happen— he'd told you before he did it.  You tried to tell him that paying off a waiter to spill water on her was a weird way to prove what he already knew, but you couldn't disagree with his conclusion.  She was definitely difficult, and shockingly judgemental for someone who managed to date a video store owner for this long.

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he promised, “I don’t think anybody’s too surprised, right?”

There was an awkward hesitation among the group as they wondered if they should lie, or just fess up now that he was obviously accurate.  You broke the silence to suggest someone go get another round of drinks for the table, and even though that was pretty much a one-man job, nearly everyone agreed and quickly shuffled off— leaving just you, Neil, and Lucien.

“I guess tonight’s your chance to meet somebody new, don’t you think?” Lucien suggested.  “Get over Denise, you know.”

“I think I’m already over Denise,” Neil decided.

“And if I told you that girl back there,” Lucien returned, pointing with the hand still holding his drink, “has been looking over here at you for the past ten minutes?”

You glanced where Lucien was pointing as well, seeing a girl in a denim mini skirt and massive hoop earrings settle her eyes on Neil before looking away quickly with a lip-gloss lacquered smile.

“I think I need some help getting over Denise,” Neil agreed suddenly, patting Lucien on the back before he left the table.  

You wanted to pout, but you were used to this— he was good-looking, he got a lot of attention from women in places like this… it usually didn’t work out for him, though.  Certainly not never, probably more often than most guys, but… definitely not every time.

You tried not to look over too much, you didn’t want to get caught spying or, even worse, looking a little jealous— but you noticed that every time you looked over at them, Neil was talking.  That was his problem, see: he never fucking shuts up.  Guys, girls, anybody who will listen— if you admit to not knowing about his favorite fifty-year-old spaghetti western or the most recent pre-Code horror comedy he watched, he’ll gladly blab to you about it for ages.  The first time you glanced at them, you saw her giving him doe eyes, laughing at something he said— and the last time, those eyes had glazed over and her laugh seemed more nervous and confused; you smirked to yourself.  He’s still Neil…

“So, um,” you struck up a conversation with Lucien, “what about you?  Anybody here catching your eye?”

“That’s actually the perfect descriptor of my type,” he replied.  “Anybody.”

You snorted.  “Then you should go, you know, talk to anybody?”

He shrugged and frowned a bit, and it was a simple movement but you understood completely.

The band started to play a new song, something upbeat and energetic, and you smiled.  “Wanna dance with me?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that—” Lucien began to protest, but a minute later you were dragging him up by the stage.  Neither of you were actually any good at dancing, mainly you were just kind of jumping and flailing around together, but it was fun and that was the point.

Eventually, more of your friends wandered in to join you; when the song ended, everyone clapped and cheered, the band bowing in gratitude.  You only stole one more look over at Neil and his conversation partner, watching her interrupt his rant with a hand on his shoulder: your throat felt a little dry.  You just hoped what she was saying was more like hey, my friends are leaving, I’ve gotta go and not hey, wanna come over to my place so you can keep explaining German expressionism to me?

Your heart dropped when he reached for her— what if he kissed her now?  What if he wrapped her up under his arm and they walked out together?  What if you had to spend the whole night thinking about him having sex with her?

“Hey, we should ask them if they know any Strokes songs!” Lucien suggested, tugging on your arm to get your attention, but your mind was elsewhere.

“Uh huh, yeah,” you mumbled blankly, and he frowned at you.

“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to look for what you were seeing; but Neil wasn’t reaching for her, he was lifting his hand to wave goodbye as she left.  You beamed, even though you did feel a little bad when you saw Neil’s shoulders sink— it’s not that you wanted him to be alone forever, you were just relieved that you might have a few more moments to breathe before he got with somebody again.

“Nothing, sorry,” you answered Lucien, giving him your attention again.  “What’d you say?”

“We should ask the band if they—”

And immediately, Lucien lost your focus as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at Neil again— he was already looking at you, seeing you all on the dancefloor.  You waved for him to join you, and he smiled as he made his way towards the stage.  A new song began, even louder than the last, and you could blame that for not hearing Lucien’s question for the second time in a row.

Although he danced with you all for a few moments, Neil draped his arms over your and Lucien’s shoulders, nearly yelling to be heard over the music.

“You guys are coming over tonight for a movie, right?” he presumed.  “Jonathan’s working ‘til late so he’s out, but—”

“Sorry, I’ve gotta be up early,” Lucien explained, “my brother and his wife are visiting, remember?  We’re getting brunch and—”

“Whatever, party pooper,” Neil frowned, before suddenly smiling at you.  “Guess it’s just me and you, huh, kid?”

You tried not to sigh too noticeably through your smile.  “Yeah, me and you…” you agreed.

~

As you groggily blinked your eyes open, you found Neil staring at you, his face uncomfortably close to yours, with a big smile.  “Mornin’, kid,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

You yelped and nearly jumped out of your skin while he laughed.  “Jesus Christ, Neil!” you shouted, kicking off the blanket on you— and then you began to process where you were and why.  “God,” you groaned as you held your head in your hands, while Neil kept laughing at you, “did I fall asleep on the couch again?”

It was sort of a rhetorical question— obviously you had, it would be much stranger if you woke up on the video store couch without having fallen asleep there.  “Yeah,” he said, standing up and sighing a bit, “but you didn’t miss that much of the movie.”

“What happened at the end?” you asked, stretching your legs and snatching the blanket off the floor to fold up; Neil must have put it on you after you dozed off.

“No, we can finish it later,” he decided, walking up to the register, and you groaned.

“Seriously?  Not even falling asleep gets me out of finishing The Man Who Laughs?”

He smiled a little as he started prepping the store for open.  “Nope,” he said proudly, popping his lips on the p sound.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” you assured, getting up and trying to ignore the soreness in your back from sleeping on a ratty old sofa all night— you remembered helping Neil carry this thing from where he found it on the side of the road.  Considering you knew where it came from, it was a wonder you ever sat on it, let alone slept on it… but this happened relatively often.  Sometimes it almost felt like you slept easier here or at Neil’s apartment than your own. 

You stood up and stretched your arms, sparing a glance over at him.

“Can I run home and change?” you asked, and he frowned.  

“We open in ten minutes,” he noticed, “you won’t be back in time.”

“Yes, and who will serve the clamoring crowds that await our open outside?” you rolled your eyes, gesturing out the storefront to the abandoned sidewalk.  “You can handle it on your own.”

“Just go to my place,” he shrugged, “it’s closer.  And I think you left some jeans there anyway.”

Right— you’d borrowed a pair of his sweats to get comfy for a movie night, and forgot to take the jeans back when you left.  You yourself had one of Neil’s short-sleeve button-ups at your place, when you’d both changed there for a costume party, but you let him believe it was just lost… it was too late to tell him now that you had it, ‘cause then he might ask why you kept it so long and then he might, somehow, deduce that you had been cuddling it at night from time to time…

“Right, okay,” you nodded, “but I still need a shirt.”

“Just borrow one of mine,” he said, like it was no big deal at all and didn’t make your heart skip.

For a second you wondered if you should protest— if he was still dating Denise, you probably would’ve said something.  But you decided not to say anything, in case he changed his mind; you nearly bolted out of the store and down the two blocks to his apartment.

Your jeans were on the dresser, draped haphazardly in their same just-peeled-off shape you must have left them in last week.  You grumbled to yourself a little about how he could’ve folded them for you so they wouldn’t be wrinkled… but then again, all his jeans were wrinkled, so he clearly didn’t know any better.

And now the fun part: picking a shirt.  You smiled to yourself as you opened the drawer, perusing through t-shirts with old movie posters and semi-witty slogans… cute, sure, but those were pretty similar to what you already wore.  

But the button-downs?  Those were quintessential Neil, and you'd be wasting an opportunity if you didn't put one of those on.

You felt a little giddy as you opened the next drawer down and found them all folded.  The first one you saw had light blue and white stripes, so you snatched it up and slipped it on.

The fit was definitely off, but you let yourself indulge in a fantasy for a moment: waking up here, in Neil's bed… in Neil's arms.  You'd slip on his shirt while you went to find some breakfast, and he'd hum something about how pretty you look in his clothes, and you'd end up tangled in the sheets again not too much later.  

Sighing to yourself, you buttoned the last button, leaving the two at the top undone so you didn't look too formal, and headed back to the store for opening.

Neil stared at you for a second when you walked in— at the shirt, specifically.  You waited for him to say something, but he didn't.  "What, should I not wear this one?" you asked, looking down at it as well, and he shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine— sorry," he mumbled, "just start sorting out last night's returns, please."

You definitely got a much stronger reaction from Jonathan, as soon as he walked in the door.

(Why was he here when he wasn't even working today?  Who knows— he was just always here somehow.)

“Hey!  You look even more like a lesbian than usual,” Jonathan greeted with a peppy fake-smile as he approached you, and you smirked a bit.

“Don’t blame me, it’s his shirt,” you nodded towards Neil.

“See, I told you you dress like a— wait,” Jonathan stopped mid-insult, looking back at you, then at Neil again, then at you; he pointed his fingers at each of you, crossing them back and forth.  “Did… you two…?”

You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to explain what he meant.

“Did you guys hook up?!” Jonathan accused, wide-eyed.

You felt your face getting warm, and you stammered out your denial; Neil started waving his hands in disagreement as well, but Jonathan was already on a roll.

“Oh my god!” he yelped.  “The one time I miss movie night here and it gets freaky!  Should’ve known better than to leave you two lovebirds alone—”

“Jonathan, we didn’t—” you choked.

“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Neil butted in.  “She just borrowed my shirt!  ‘Cause she— because—”

“I mean, we’ve kinda all been waiting for this to happen— but I never really thought it would,” Jonathan steamrolled along.  “Well, yeah, I guess I thought it would, I just—”

“Wait wait wait, what?” Neil shook his head, stepping up closer to the two of you.  “What does that mean?”

Finally, he seemed to get Jonathan’s attention, who began to nervously backtrack as both of you stared at him.  “W-well, I just mean—” he started.

“And who’s ‘we all’?” Neil noticed.  “This isn’t just you, thinking this?”

“I… I mean,” Jonathan scoffed, “you know— just, just some people… we thought that maybe… that since you two are so close, that you might—”

“Wow,” Neil chuckled, crossing his arms in disappointment.  “You know, that’s so reductive.  For a bunch of progressive, free-thinking hipsters—” he waved his hands as he said it in a mocking way— “you’re really just, like… like… you know, not!  ‘Cause apparently men and women can’t really be friends?”

“No, come on, not like that,” Jonathan denied, “of course we can—”

“I mean, you’re her friend, you’re both single,” Neil noticed, gesturing between the two of you, “why don’t you two, just, you know… hook up!”

You cringed a little as Jonathan tugged at his collar nervously.  “Well, I—”

“Come on, why not?” Neil went on, smiling at the suggestion even though he was clearly unamused.  “I mean, she’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s got a vagina— why don’t you hit on her?”

“Hey, come on, Neil,” Jonathan sighed, “I’m well aware she’s got a vagina—”

“So what’s the problem?” Neil insisted.  “Clearly you can’t just be friends with someone with a vagina—”

“I would really prefer if we didn’t talk about my vagina anymore,” you mumbled nervously.

“— how come you never hit on her, Jonny?” Neil pressed, backing him into a corner metaphorically— but also somewhat literally, he was leaning in and Jonathan was pressing his back more and more against the shelves.

“You really want me to answer that?” Jonathan replied, almost threatening.  That made you furrow your brow a bit.  It seemed like a rhetorical question, Neil trying to prove a point, but you didn’t expect Jonathan to have a literal answer.

“Yeah, sure,” Neil decided, “enlighten us.”

Neil glanced at you, like you were just as gung-ho about this interrogation, but you were feeling a little sick.  You understood the spirit of Neil’s argument— and technically, you agreed with him— but it still stung to see him so incensed at the suggestion of you two together.  You were trying not to take it personally, it wasn’t like he was disgusted by you or anything… he even said just now that you were pretty, and he’d told you that before, but… it still bothered you a little, for reasons you couldn’t quite describe and that you were sure were illogical.

“I never hit on her,” Jonathan answered, lowering his voice, “because I… I figured it would piss you off.”

That seemed to surprise you both, maybe for different reasons; you bit your lip to suppress a smile.  Did Jonathan really think Neil was that protective over you?  “Why would it piss me off?” Neil wondered, but he sounded a little defensive— defensive in a caught-red-handed sort of way.

“I… I don’t know,” Jonathan shrugged.  “That’s just the vibe I got, okay?  That she’s sorta… off-limits.”

Neil hesitated.  “Well… she’s not,” he decided.  “You’re grown-ups.  Whatever you wanna do is none of my business— as long as you’re not being, you know, creepy or an asshole.”

“Of course,” Jonathan agreed, most of the tension settling as Neil backed up a step.

“Okay, well, ask her out then,” Neil instructed firmly.

“I didn’t say I wanted to!” Jonathan sputtered.

“Neil, Jesus!” you complained simultaneously, and he seemed to relent, shrugging as he walked back to the register.

“Sorry, sorry,” he dismissed, “just letting you know it’s… fine with me!”

You rolled your eyes a bit and looked back at Jonathan.  “Sorry,” you offered him quietly, “he’s… I don’t know.  He gets weird about that.”

“Oh really?” Jonathan scoffed sarcastically.  “Didn’t notice.”

“The real reason you shouldn’t be hitting on me is because we’re coworkers, by the way,” you reminded him.

“Hey, I only work here part-time,” Jonathan noticed, “so I think that means it’s cool as long as we only go out part-time.”

You snorted, but he seemed to get nervous.

“You know I’m kidding, right?” he added quickly, and you nodded with a laugh.

~

"You know, I was thinking— we don't have many events at the store these days,” Neil mumbled around a bite of pretzel, watching you play your turn at Skee Ball.  Normally he would put coins in the machine beside yours and try to beat your score, but the other machine was out of order and you decided to take a relay race approach.  “What if we did, like, I don’t know… maybe a double feature for a couple bucks?”

“Neil, we show movies every night,” you sighed, “and we invite everybody, and ninety-nine percent of the time it’s just some combination of me, you, Jonathan, and Lucien.”

“Yeah, but this time we could do movies that more people like— a little easier to watch,” he suggested, “something that would get new people in the store.”

“New people don’t wanna sit on a musty old couch with strangers,” you reminded him, and he nodded as he chewed and swallowed his next bite.

“You’re right,” he agreed, holding the pretzel out towards you.  “Wanna bite?”

You were trying to get through your skee balls pretty quick, so you just leaned your head over and chomped down on the end of one of the twists while he held it for you.  You hummed in appreciation— it was pretty good, fresher than the last one you guys got here.

Visits to the arcade used to be your thing, back in high school (aside from watching movies, but that was a given).  Then you slowed down with the trips, feeling a little old and out of place surrounded by kids— but the problem was, this place wasn’t filled with kids anymore.  It hadn’t changed much at all since you were both in high school, and that was exactly the issue: it was old, run-down, a bit grimey… kids weren’t coming to arcades anymore anyways, they were all on the Internet apparently.  So, while you and Neil sort of appreciated having the place to yourself, it also broke your heart knowing your old haunt couldn’t hold itself together forever… you two visited not just to recapture some old childhood joys, but to try to do your part to keep the business afloat.  

You pretended to like being here— because you really did want to support the place, and Neil wanted to keep coming back— but it actually made you pretty fucking sad.  Surrounded by all the neon, the noisy pinball machines, the Dig Dug machine that had a fifty-fifty chance of stealing your quarters, the photobooth (you still had some strips from that thing pinned to your wall, some so old that they’d faded from the sunlight that came in your window each day); it all felt sort of eerie now.  You would’ve never known all those years ago how little this place would change, even though you never expected it to— you would’ve never known how little anything would change.  Neil was still by your side, but still so far away… if you could talk to that fourteen-year-old girl now, you would warn her that no amount of time spent running around this place and playing Street Fighter was going to make Neil love her, or you.

But here you were anyways.  “Woo!” you cheered when your final score came through: 50,765.  “Beat that!”

Neil set the pretzel down on the bar-height table (on a pile of napkins, don’t worry, neither of you trusted those tables that much) and brushed the salt off his hands with a scoff.  “Oh please, I can beat that with my eyes closed,” he assured as you crossed your arms.

As he put his quarters in and stepped up to the game, you smiled wide.  “Alright, if you say so.”

You came up behind him and covered his eyes with your hands, making him jump and then laugh.  “What are you doing?”

“Just keeping you honest,” you giggled, holding on tight even when he tried to move his head around so that he could see.  

He did his best, usually struggling to even find where the balls were coming down more than rolling them decently— but after the first three went in the gutter without even scoring, you knew he didn’t stand a chance.  He did score a few times, but when the buzzer went off and he lifted your hands from his eyes, he laughed at the pitiful 1,150 on the board.

“Ohh, that’s too bad,” you winced, “guess you’re just full of it.”

Still holding your hands away from his face, he spun around and twirled under your arms like you were dancing for a moment; it ended with him face-to-face with you, swinging your hands back and forth a bit to force you to twist with him slightly.  “Wanna play Street Fighter next?” he suggested quickly.  “I know I can beat you at that.”

The giddy joy of the moment dropped and shattered; if you thought about it too much, you probably could’ve cried right then.  As pathetic, yet oddly aesthetically pleasing, as it would be to cry in an arcade, you swallowed down the emotion and smiled back at him.  “Yeah, okay,” you agreed.

~

You’d been a little antsy all day— Neil seemed to notice, asking a couple times if you were okay, but you just nodded and shrugged it off.  He had a sense for when you were lying; but that’s the thing, you weren’t lying, really.  You just weren’t sure what to say.  You weren’t sure if you should say anything.  And yet, you felt a little guilty not telling him everything that was going on with you— not just guilty, but plain weird.  Because you usually did tell him everything— except, you know, the thing— but you didn’t know if you should talk about this.  Not that you couldn’t— but should you?

So you were sort of gnawing on your lip most of the day, keeping yourself busy with tallying late fees behind the desk, trying to keep conversation light and meaningless: thankfully, in that regard, Jonathan and Lucien made it pretty easy.

“Okay: fuck, marry, kill,” Jonathan began, “Dracula, the Mummy, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”

“Dude, I can’t answer that,” Lucien refused.

“Okay, then Neil, what would you do?” Jonathan changed his target.

“Um, well,” Neil pondered, “I think I’d have to kill Dracula— spare the world from that evil, you know— and I guess I’d marry the Mummy—”

“Freud would like to have a word,” Lucien butted in.

“And I’d fuck the Creature from the Black Lagoon,” he concluded, “out of morbid curiosity.”

You snorted, but didn’t look up from your clipboard.  “You come up with one that Lucien will do,” Jonathan challenged Neil.

“Alright, uhh, let’s see…” Neil stalled as he thought, looking up at the ceiling and stroking his chin dramatically.  “Fuck, marry, kill: Sarah Carter, Ripley, and Trinity from Matrix.”

“Okay, see, that’s a real challenge,” Lucien affirmed.  “If I marry Trinity, do I have to live in the post-apocalyptic wasteland or can she live here?”

“You’d have to live in the Matrix,” Jonathan announced, like it was obvious.

“Hm,” Lucien pondered, “do I know it’s a false reality?  Does she know?”

“She knows, you don’t,” Neil decided.

“Is she gonna tell me?  What if she has another guy on the side in the real world?”

“Okay, you’re overthinking this,” Jonathan groaned.

“And is this the Sarah Carter that’s already had John?  ‘Cause if not, I can’t kill her, or the human revolution stands no chance— but if she has him, I can’t marry her, ‘cause I’m not ready to be a stepfather—”

“You’re useless,” Jonathan informed him flatly.

“Well, it’s easy then,” you offered, still tallying fees on the printed table.  “You fuck Carter, marry Ripley and kill Trinity.”

“Yeah, I guess that works,” Lucien shrugged.

“If you’re so good at this game, you should play,” Jonathan decided.  You looked up from your work for once, finding Lucien looking excited at the idea and Neil looking a little nervous but intrigued.

“I’ve got one for you,” Lucien decided, looking concerningly smug.  “Fuck, marry, kill: the three of us.”

Jonathan let out a giddy ‘ooh’ and Neil raised his eyebrows.  “Oh— I don’t know— that’s too weird,” you shook your head, “it’s different, you’re real—”

“Wait, wait,” Neil interrupted, “now I wanna know.”

You froze for a second, wondering if you should double down on not participating, or if you should tell him the first thing that popped in your head: am I allowed to do all three to you?

Instead, you set the clipboard down and crossed your legs, and the men seemed to straighten up as they prepared for your answer.  “Alright,” you said, looking at them for a lingering moment before sighing.  “I think I’d fuck Jonathan, and then kill myself.”

“Yes,” Jonathan hissed, shaking his fist triumphantly.

“Dude, really?” Lucien snapped at him.  “That didn’t sound like a compliment to me.”

“Don’t care, I stopped listening after ‘fuck Jonathan’,” he replied.  “Alright, Neil, you’re gonna have to make good on that ‘she’s not off-limits’ promise you made to me—”

But Neil wasn’t listening to Jonathan, he was still looking at you.  “Wait— you wouldn’t marry me?” Neil interrupted, putting a hand on the desk and leaning in a bit closer— he looked half-amused and half-offended, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Um…” you started to wonder how to defend yourself from that.  What did he expect you to say?  Yes, I’d marry you, I’ve actually been planning our wedding since junior year.

“Hold on,” Lucien stopped you, “if she fucks you and marries you, that means I’m getting killed!”

“Yeah, so?” Jonathan smirked.

“What, you don’t think I’m marriage material?” Neil laughed… but he didn’t seem like he was really joking, per se.  He didn’t seem serious either, of course, but you decided to take his question seriously since he’d dared to ask it twice.

“Well,” you mumbled, “no.  I don’t.”

Then he seemed a bit more serious, adjusting his posture a bit.  “Why not?”

“I mean… you’re my best friend,” you reminded him, “but… you’re not reliable.”

He nodded, pursing his lips together.

“You’re not ready for marriage,” you continued.  “I mean, I think you’re just as sure of that as I am.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And honestly?  You’re a great friend and all, but… if you were my husband, I don’t think I could really… you know, trust you…”

The silence seemed a little heavy— all the men were sort of frozen for a second, you wondered if you should wave your arm around to make sure time hadn’t stopped.  But they did move, Neil first in fact, as he stopped leaning on the counter and nodded a little.

“I’m just surprised that you didn’t fuck Dracula,” Jonathan said to Neil in an attempt to cut the tension, “considering your massive man-crush on Bela Lugosi.”

“Hey, that reminds me, tonight’s movie is Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla,” Neil announced, apparently shaking off whatever odd energy he’d picked up just before, “you in?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan nodded, “should I bring drinks?”

“Uhh, yeah, why not?” Neil agreed. 

“Is a six-pack enough?”

"Uh, maybe…” Neil considered, turning over his shoulder to look at you.  “Kid, how many beers are you gonna want?”

You swallowed nervously.  “Um, I… well, I’m not coming.  I’ve got a date, actually.”

Of course it was just assumed that you would be there; you felt a little guilty admitting you wouldn’t, to the point that you almost considered just skipping said date and staying to avoid the awkwardness.

“Hey, great!” Jonathan said proudly, throwing his arms out wide.

“A date, huh?” Neil noticed, looking happily surprised.  “Sorry, I— I didn’t know— you didn’t say anything—”

“No, it’s cool,” you shook your head, “it’s kind of a last minute thing… you know how they’re showing Rope at the Palace tonight?  I met this, um, this guy the other day and we got to talking, and I asked him if he’d wanna come with me.”

“Rope, wow, that’s a great first date movie,” Neil nodded approvingly, “that sounds perfect.”

“Yeah— he hasn’t seen it, actually,” you admitted, smiling nervously, “so I guess how much he likes it will kinda be a good judge of if he’s worth going out again, right?”

Jonathan nodded approvingly, but Neil seemed skeptical.  "Well, the showing isn't until nine— you can at least hang out until the movie starts, right?"

"I've gotta get home and get changed!" you explained 

"You can't wear that to a date?" Julien wondered.

"No!" you scoffed, looking down at your ripped jeans and Dracula t-shirt.  "Besides, I have this whole plan of what I'm gonna wear— remember when we did Bonnie and Clyde for Halloween?"

Neil was Bonnie and you were Clyde, in fact; he looked shockingly good in that blood-red lipstick, you tried to convince him to wear it again but he insisted it was a one-night-only situation.  

"I figure if I wear my Clyde suit, I'll look kinda like James Stewart!"

"You're doing drag on a first date?" Lucien pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, lighten up, I'm just dressing up for the movie— I'll still, you know, try to look pretty," you assured.  "What, I don't look good in a suit?  'Cause I got a lot of compliments on Halloween—"

"No, hey, go for it," Jonathan decided, "it's festive!"

"I think it's cool," Neil agreed.  "Have fun, alright?  And if he creeps you out or something, call the store number and I'll come get you."

"I'm not really worried about—"

"You know? Just call the store when you get home," Neil decided, "so I'll know you didn't get murdered."

"Dude, chill," you groaned.  "We're going to the movies, not, I don't know… hiking off-trail in the middle of the night."

You never agreed to call, but you did him one better: you ended up coming back to the video store afterwards, a bit over two hours later.  Of course, the guys were still on the couch— apparently the movie was over but they were watching anime (undoubtedly something Jonathan had brought as a palate cleanser after the movie).

They all looked over at you when you came in the front door and the little bell rang; they seemed excited to see you, and presumably to interrogate you about the date.  You sighed, knowing you couldn't have expected anything else, but you'd come here hoping they'd let you watch something with them so you could stop thinking about the date.

“How’d it go, hot stuff?” Jonathan purred, and you rolled your eyes as Lucien wolf-whistled.

“Oh yeah, it was awesome, best first date ever— I’m at his place having sex with him right now,” you frowned as you tossed your purse down onto the couch, and Lucien chuckled while Neil looked a little defeated.  

“Not that great, huh?” Neil noticed.

“Was he a creep?” Jonathan assumed.

“Did he think the movie was bad?” Lucien pressed.

“No, no, he was great,” you sighed, “he loved the movie.  We talked about it for a bit afterwards and he seemed to really understand it.”

“Okay!  That’s good, right?” Jonathan said optimistically.

“Yeah— so good that I asked him when we could do this again,” you recalled, “and he said that he didn’t wanna lead me on and he wasn’t interested in seeing me.”

“What?!” Jonathan yelped, while Neil winced a little.

“He said I was really cool and funny and easy to talk to,” you explained, “but that he didn’t feel any chemistry.”

“Chemistry?” Lucien repeated, confused.

“He means he’s not attracted to me,” you clarified.

“What?” Jonathan scoffed again.  “Why not?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, but you did know.  “I think I’m just, like, friend material.  I’m just ‘one of the guys’, you know?  Not somebody you actually wanna be with.”

“But isn’t that what every guy wants?  To date somebody who’s just ‘one of the guys’?” Lucien noticed, and then paused when everyone gave him an inquisitive look. “That sounded way less gay in my head.  You get what I mean, right?”

“As much as I would love to never let you live that down,” Jonathan smirked, “you’re not wrong— like, a chick who can hang.  That’s the best.”

“Well, here I am!  Hanging!” you snapped.  “Where’s my harem of suitors just desperate to date one of the guys?!”

“I mean, you are wearing a suit…” Neil noticed, getting a little defensive when you groaned and dropped your head back.  “No, no, you look cool!  I mean, you look really great.  I’m not sure what he wasn’t seeing.”

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend!" Jonathan suggested.  "And he was gonna cheat but he chickened out."

"Maybe he's intimidated by strong women," Lucien added, sounding more like he was quoting a Cosmo than actually thinking that.

"Respectfully, guys aren't that complicated," you assured.  "If he wanted me, he would.  He doesn't.  It's not that deep."

Neil looked away when you said that.

"Well, come take a seat on the losers couch," Jonathan offered, but Neil sitting next to him frowned.

"You think I'm a loser?" Neil protested.

"No, I was talking about that couch," Jonathan said as he pointed to the other one which Lucien was on.

"I'm not even offended," Lucien decided, patting the spot next to him.  "I'd rather be a loser with you than a winner with anybody else."

You smiled and plopped down next to him, pulling your legs up on the old sofa and finding the best angle to see the TV from.  "Okay, catch me up," you requested, bracing for the barrage of borderline nonsensical exposition about whatever obscure anime Jonathan was forcing on the group this time.

~

Since the store closed at eight on Tuesdays, you and Neil decided to go out for a late dinner after locking up— the nearest place you usually walked to was a little hole-in-the-wall dishing out Thai fusion, and even though there were open tables inside, you took your paper boxes outside to eat together on a bench.

You each sat up on it with your legs crossed, facing each other, while he poked at his fried rice with his fork and you stirred your noodles with the chopsticks.

“The Palace is still doing their Hitchcock screenings on Sundays,” you recalled, “I think the next one is Rear Window.  We could make Lucien man the store and go see it together?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he smiled.  “But we gotta sneak in the candy, that place is getting so overpriced…”

“Well, that’s a given,” you laughed.  “When I went on my date there I had Sour Patch Kids in my bag, but I was kinda craving Reese’s by the time the movie started.

"That guy sounded like an ass, by the way," Neil announced with a frown.

"Oh, no, it's fine," you dismissed.  "He was really nice, even when he blew me off, and I… I guess I wasn’t really expecting it to go anywhere, anyways.”

“Really?” Neil scoffed.  “Then why’d you ask him out?”

Just in case.  “I… I guess I’m trying to put myself out there more?”

“Huh?  You’re trying to put out more?” Neil joked.

You rolled your eyes and unfolded your legs to kick him playfully.  “You know what I mean,” you groaned.

“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted, “and I support it.  It’s sort of insane that you’re still single.”

“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” you rolled your eyes before shoving a thick swirl of spicy-sweet noodles in your mouth.

“No!  I mean, like, I can’t believe you’re single,” he clarified, and you smiled somewhat awkwardly while chewing your mouthful.  “You’re smart and fun and cool and pretty—”

Thanks to the food in your mouth, you didn’t have to worry about coming up with a way to respond to that, so you just shrugged.

“Seriously!” he insisted.  “I mean, guys hit on you at the store— I wish somebody who actually deserved your attention would walk in that place.”

The guy I want is already there every day.  Swallowing, you finally got a chance to talk to him again.  “Thanks,” you sighed, “it’s fine, though.  I mean, I’ve been single this long— I think I’ll survive.”

“Keep waiting for the right one, okay?” he encouraged, and your heart swelled.

“I will,” you promised, sounding more wistful than you meant to.

After a brief lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and continued.  “Hey, um, while we’re on the topic of Sunday, about the whole fuck-marry-kill thing—”

“I’m sorry,” you offered right away, “I shouldn’t have answered that.  I wasn’t being serious, obviously.”

“No, I wanted to apologize,” he returned, “I shouldn’t have pressed you on your answer.  It was funny.  And it wasn’t like you could say you were gonna kill one of us.”

You snorted.  “Yeah, that one was probably the worst of the three.”

“But I shouldn’t have asked you about what you would’ve done to me,” he shook his head, “I was making it weird.  So, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured.  “Did you really expect me to say I would marry you?”

“No,” he admitted, “I thought you’d say you’d fuck me, marry Lucien and kill Jonathan.”

“What?” you scoffed, though you were still smiling.  “Why?”

“Well, Lucien would definitely make the best husband of the three of us,” he explained, “and Jonathan was the only one who wouldn’t have gotten butthurt about you saying you’d kill him.  He probably would’ve just asked you to give him a nice send-off, y’know…”

You nodded in agreement, wondering if he was going to address the obviously missing third piece of all this… he sure was staring down into his empty fried rice container with intense focus…

“And, you know, as for me,” he began sort of thinly, “I, um… I guess I just figured, you know, you’re the most comfortable with me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “obviously, but maybe that would make it worse?  Like, at least with Jonathan, I know that if we ever did hook up or something, it probably wouldn’t mess up our friendship.  ‘Cause we’re friendly and all, but it’s not so serious.  But with you…”

“Uh huh, well, that’s why it’s good it’s just a game,” Neil finished for you, chucking his trash in the nearest can.  “Don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.  Least of all you and I being married.  Talk about a disaster.”

You choked on your throat.  “Yeah.  No kidding…”

“Well, anyways,” he sighed, standing up from the bench and stretching for a moment, “wanna come over and see if the game’s still on?”

“Oh, um, I’m just gonna go back to my place,” you decided, throwing away the last couple bites of your food on account of your suddenly-lost appetite.  “Kinda thinking I should get my sleep schedule in order.”

“That’s good,” he nodded, “I respect that.  Have a good night, then, kid.”

“Yeah, you too,” you breathed, waving as he turned and walked off into the night, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.  

You looked down at your lap, taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes for a second.  Did he have to be so sweet just to cut you down like that?  Could he have even known how it would hurt you to say that?

It’s not even like he was wrong, but you were dying to ask him why he was so sure that you and him together would be so bad.  What was wrong with you that he still couldn’t see you that way?

Not interested in this repetitive thought cycle anymore, and being very familiar with where it leads, you got up and started to walk down the street.  You didn’t turn to go to your apartment, though; you kept going until you heard live music— scratchy, whiny guitars and throbbing bass drums— seeping out of the club.  You just needed to be somewhere familiar that wasn’t the video store or home; and, this place conveniently also had liquor.

You slipped inside— hit by a wave of sound as you entered— and took a seat at the bar, half-listening to the band that was playing, pretending to be focused at all on what was going on in the outside world rather than just spiraling into your own thoughts inside your head.

“Hey,” Jonathan nodded at you from the other side of the bar, and you nodded back.  He instantly started looking for Neil— of course he would— and you deflated a bit.  “You here alone?” he noticed.

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“Wow,” he smirked, “it’s like when Peter Pan’s shadow escaped.”

You should’ve probably been offended by that, but it wasn’t worth denying— and you were more interested in getting liquored up than justifying that you did, in fact, have a life outside of Neil.

And, actually, Peter Pan was a pretty good way to describe Neil, too.  Fear of commitment, leader of freaks and outcasts, daydreamer… all he needed was some green tights.  “What are you drinking tonight?” Jonathan finally asked.

“What pairs well with feeling completely unattractive and unlovable?” you sighed.

“Well, that would be my drink of choice: whiskey,” he smiled, setting a bottle down in front of you.  “I’ll do a shot with you.”

He poured you both a shot, and you timed it to shoot it back together; he, obviously, took it better with you, and you cringed from the acidic flavor.  "Jesus, people really drink this on purpose?" you grumbled.

"Yeah, give it a few minutes," he assured, "it's gonna numb all those stupid emotions."

"I don't have a few minutes," you sighed, "do you have anything more fast-acting?"

"Yeah— a second shot," he joked, but you nodded in agreement.  "Okay, shit, you're not messing around tonight."

"Nope," you agreed, watching him pour just one shot this time.  "You're not doing it with me?"

"I need to pace myself, I'm here 'til two," he explained.

He slid it to you and you contemplated it for a moment, before forcing yourself to get it down as quickly as possible to avoid the burn.  You still grimaced, but recovered quickly.

"Is it working yet?" he wondered.

"I guess," you answered half-heartedly.

“Well, you could always gush to the bartender about all your problems?” he offered, but you just shrugged it off.  “Come on, you wouldn’t be the first tonight.  And since I know you, I might actually be able to help.”

“I don’t think you can help with this one,” you assured.  “This problem has been going on longer than you’ve ever been around.”

“Oh?” he pressed.  “Let me guess… boy troubles?”

“Isn’t it always?” you scoffed, irritated that he saw through you that quickly— apparently your reputation of being horrible with men preceded you.

“But this is just one boy,” he presumed.  “One boy who… conspicuously isn’t here tonight…”

“Is it that obvious?” you wondered with a whine, dropping your head in your hand.

“Well, if you weren’t having any issues with him, you’d be with him,” Jonathan guessed— and it wasn’t bad logic.

“But, like, does everyone know?” you wondered.  “Does everyone but him know that I’m in love with him?  Oh god, Jonathan, you don’t think he knows, do you?”

“Wait— love?” he repeated, and you swallowed thickly as you realized the whiskey had already gotten you to say too much.  “You… you’re…”

“Okay, so I guess not everyone knows,” you mumbled.

“No, yeah, I think you managed to keep that under wraps,” he assured with a nod, eyes getting wider.  “Sheesh.  No, I had no clue.  Now it’s even weirder that you guys aren’t together.”

“Well, he doesn’t love me,” you explained flatly.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, god no— I mean, he tells me he loves me,” you corrected, “but he doesn’t mean— we just say that, you know, like at the end of phone calls or when one of us is sad.  It’s not, like… we never meant it that way.”

“Right, okay,” Jonathan nodded as he wiped a glass— the way bartenders do when they’re listening to people— but he didn’t seem to understand entirely.  “So, you’re not his type?”

“I don’t think I know what his type is,” you scoffed.  “I haven’t really noticed a pattern, have you?”

“You’d have to have a few more data points to really draw any connection between them,” Jonathan laughed.

“Yeah, fair,” you smiled, “he’s only had… I don’t know, maybe four girlfriends since I’ve known him?  One in high school, for a month— then Eva, they weren’t even really serious, just dating for a while.  And then, uh—”

“Tanisha,” he remembered.

“Right!  I liked her,” you hummed.

“What happened to her again?” he wondered.

“Got back with her ex,” you recalled.

“Wow, that blows,” Jonathan sighed.  

“She told me before she told him,” you admitted.  “She wanted me to tell him for her, actually, but I… I couldn’t do that to him.  But I came over right after, you know, and we ate ice cream from the tub and watched movies ‘til we fell asleep.”

Jonathan made a sort of face, one you couldn’t quite interpret, and you tilted your head as he seemed to mumble to himself.  

“What?” you wondered.

“Nothing, it’s just… he’s kind of an idiot,” Jonathan decided.  “I don’t think he gets how lucky he is.”

You wrinkled your brows together, laughing a bit.  “What do you mean?”

“Look, I’m not saying he’s, like, legally obligated to fall in love with you just because you guys get along so well,” he clarified, “even if that’s what Neil accused me of thinking— I really do think it’s fine for men and women to just be friends.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying… like, how do you have someone who cares about you that much, and you end up dating fucking Denise for almost a year?!”

“Well, nobody knows how he ended up with Denise,” you coughed.  “That was a fucking disaster.”

“I mean, not to be crass, but, uh,” he stumbled a little over his words, “I’m surprised that you coming over after that breakup didn’t turn into a rebound, at least.”

“After eating that much ice cream?” you laughed.  “That would’ve been awful.”

“But really, though,” he insisted.  “I have a hard time believing the thought didn’t even cross his mind…”

“I can’t really be sure that it didn’t,” you admitted, “I’m just saying, nothing happened.”

“I guess he’s just known you too long to go for it with you,” Jonathan shrugged.

“It’s not just that— you know Neil, he’s kind of an adrenaline junkie,” you rolled your eyes, “or at least he thinks he is.  He wants adventure, I guess— and he always talks about us doing spontaneous stuff but it never happens— and I’m just too familiar.  Too comfortable.”

“Yeah, he does kinda have something against stability,” Jonathan agreed, “do you think it’s a divorced parents thing?”

“I don’t know, I stopped analyzing that a long time ago,” you groaned, “and I told myself I would stop trying to be what I thought he wanted, but I think I keep doing it.”

“Well, I know you know him better than anybody,” Jonathan countered, “but I know guys, and that guy… there’s no way he thinks of you as just a friend.”

“Why do you think that?” 

“Because he was fucking lying when he said it wouldn’t piss him off if we hooked up,” he insisted.

“You really won’t let that go, will you?” you grinned.

“Did you see his face?  He couldn’t get the image out of his head!” Jonathan assured confidently.  “And then that whole ‘fuck marry kill’ thing— he started getting nervous, I think.”

“Nervous about what?”

“That something could really happen with us!”

“You really think he would care?” you frowned.

“I swear to— to Ash Williams,” he decided, “that if I walked into that fucking video store, and told him that you and I did whiskey shots and you came back to my place and we did the horizontal tango, he would beat me to death with the register.”

“You swear on Ash Williams?” you repeated with a smirk, knowing that meant more than swearing on any deity would mean.

“Him and his chainsaw hand,” Jonathan assured, putting a hand over his heart to add to the bit, and you giggled.

“Well, I don’t think Neil can pick up the register,” you decided.

“In that case, you let me know the next time you wanna get back at him for something,” he offered with a wink, and you smiled at him sympathetically.

“I know you’re trying to be nice,” you sighed, “but you don’t have to do that.”

“Hey, come on,” he frowned, “I know you’ve got this I’m insecure I’m a weirdo nobody notices me thing, but you can’t actually think it would be some kind of charity work for me to sleep with you—”

“No, I don’t mean that,” you sighed, “I know I could get laid if I wanted to—”

“But you don’t wanna get laid,” he finished for you, “you wanna be loved.”

You sighed again, even harder.  “Yeah,” you nodded.

“I know,” he agreed.  “And you know I love you, but—”

“But not like that,” you took your turn finishing his sentence.

His only reply was raising the bottle of whiskey with a sideways smile, a silent offer to pour another shot— for both of you this time.

“Yes, please,” you hummed, watching him fill the miniature glasses with a sigh.

part 2

[cyber333angel]

getting spanked by rafe because he saw you talking to a pogue..

you have been rafe camerons girlfriend for a long time, everyone knew you were his. there were signs to tell that you belonged to him all over your body. from the gold anklet that dangled on your foot, to the “r.c” tattoo that is branded under your boob, flexing when you wore a bathing suit . except not everyone chose to acknowledge how much you meant to rafe.

you and your boyfriend were currently at a party, it was a typical kook house and owned by one of rafes friends, kelce. sitting on the couch for about 30 minutes you watched as your boyfriend sold coke to a broad amount of people, you knew he sold and you honestly didn’t mind. but it did get very tiresome to watch. “rafey m’bored. we’ve been sitting here like allll day! it’s a party, i wanna actually do something!” your boyfriend ignored you, persuading a customers into buying some coke. “rafey!” you grip his arm and looks back at you “kid, can’t you see im working? go play with your girlfriends or something till im done.” you pout at him and mumble “y’re so annoying.” him not paying attention to you, you leave and go find someone who is actually willing to talk to you. you find a friend of yours and drink a couple of shots in the kitchen but she tells you that she needs to go the bathroom, you nod and stay put. soon after you see an old friend.

“oh m gee! hey jayj!” you have known jj maybank since you childhood. both growing up as “pogues” but since your parents had a good business they grew into more money, naturally making you two grow apart. “hey princess. how’s kook life been treating’ya.” you roll your eyes and talk to him for while. back at the table rafe hears from a friend that he caught his girl flirting with a pogue. instantly aggravated from the rumor, he makes his way to the kitchen, finding you with all smiles talking to some guy. furious, he steps between you and jj, “heard you were-uh flirting with my girl, is that-that true?” he looks at him picking a fight, you attempt to explain the misinterpreted scene to him “rafe-“ he pushes your arm away. “nah let the fucking pogue answer, baby.” his patience was gradually thinning out.

“calm down dude , theres literally zero reason to get heated.” jj says “no one was macking on your girl, alright trust-“ he was cut off by rafes fist connecting to his face, making him stumble to the ground. rafe grabs your hand and pulls you out of the kitchen “rafe what the hell! why would you do that, we were just talking!” ignoring you he makes his way to his car and opens the passenger side. you pout, “m’not getting in with you if your angry rafey.”

“sweetheart get in the fucking car, i promise you it will only be worse if you keep testing me, go sit in the car.” whimpering at the unsympathetic tone you sit down, you decide it’s best to stay quiet the whole ride. he pulls into the driveway of tannyhill and you try a last attempt to explain yourself. “rafey please listen t’me! I really was just catching up with him! I hadn’t seen him-“ rafe has his head down, rubbing his eyes. you quiet down when he puts his hands on your thigh, rubbing it up and down gently. he says calmly “go up stairs to our room and take all that shit off. when I get up there I want to see you with your ass in the air and your mouth fuckin shut, alright?” you nod keeping your head down, knowing there’s nothing you can do now. up in your shared room, you strip yourself of your clothes and climb onto your bed, feeling nervous of the punishment coming to you. hearing rafe come up the stairs you quickly get into position with an arched back. you also hear a faint jangle as he steps closer, in front of the bed he takes both of your hands and handcuffs them. you knew where this was going but it was inevitable to run from. rafe appears behind you “you know what you did to deserve this right? know how bad you disrespected me in front of people, you-you understand that right?” you shake your head frantically onto the soft pillow “yes daddy I know, said m’ sorry already!”

“I didnt ask all that, what your gonna do is count each time you get a spank alright? you can do that hm baby?” you nod again “yes daddy..” he pulls you by your waist to the edge of the bed, taking a seat and pulling you onto his lap, your legs and arms dangle off his thighs. you close your eyes and the first spank lands, a loud “pap!” echoing in the room. it stings, you squirm around in his lap “ouch!” you cry, but do as your instructed “o-one!”

“stay fuckin still.” the second one is even harder then the first. rafe had already done five brutal slaps on your right ass cheek. “your taking it like such a good girl..good job baby.” your right cheek was already feeling numb leaving your left rear end a little alleviated. you know you’ll be bruised and hurting tomorrow. rafe sees some of your slick oozing from your cunt, he takes two fingers and plunges them into your sticky hole. you flinch and mewl, he chuckles. “you like that shit? you like when daddy’s upset?” the slaps did hurt but you couldn’t admit it did turn you on..well you didn’t really need to admit it seeing how the evidence was shown by how soaked your pussy was. “don’t worry princess im halfway done..” he spanks you once more, wincing, this time you couldn’t count. needing a minute from the intense sting. your boyfriend leans in close to your ear, “c’mon what number was that sweetheart?”

“s-six daddyy please m’sorry!” he mocks you “aw four more baby s’okay, you can do it.” finishing the intense ill-treatment on your ass, rafe helps you up from his lap. now sitting on him with a bruised behind and tears running down your face. “what’d we learn today sweet girl?”

“not to talk’to other g-guys and respect you.” he nods “mhm that’s right. I didn’t want to hurt you alright baby? just need you to learn to respect me and know who you belong to.” you nuzzle into his neck “s’alright rafey, i know.. can you make me feel good now daddy, please! m’so sticky!” he smirks at you “yeah of course..you did so good for me and I know how much this needy pussy needs to cum.”

[herlondonboy]

unclaimed, clarisse la rue

summary: after being unclaimed for seven years, your father claims you when a new kid arrives and is claimed.

warnings: bullying a little, i guess… they’ll be a part 2 if anyone likes this one. there’s not very much clarisse x reader, but there will be in part 2

wc: 1.6k

a/n: guys it’s my bday in three days… i wanna be 16 forever

you were barely ten when you arrived at camp half-blood. you were scared, shaking, and cold as your satyr protector led you away from the body of your mother and to the entrance of the camp.

with no idea of what was happening, you followed him blindly, hoping for an answer, but the second you crossed the threshold, you collapsed.

when you awoke, there was a blonde kid above you with a wide smile. “hi,” he said, “i’m will!”

you sat up in confusion, murmuring, “where am i?”

“camp half-blood,” will responded. “your satyr didn’t tell you?”

you shook your head. “what’s a satyr?”

since then, you and will had been friends. he was your only constant at camp. in the seven years you’d been there, you hadn’t been claimed by a god. it was understandable. you didn’t do anything to make them proud. you weren’t good at archery or sword fighting, you didn’t get along with nature nor were you heroic.

but, in those seven years, you had been claimed by someone else.

clarisse la rue was the daughter of ares. she knew how to get what she wanted and at 15 what she wanted was you. clarisse became a constant in your life. breakfasts would be spent feeling her eyes on you, archery practice she was purposefully tease you as if you weren’t already bad enough with a bow as it was.

then, she asked you out. you had been supporting a crush on her for a year at that point, so it was a no-brainer. you loved your girlfriend more than anything.

will and clarisse were the only people you were devoted to. the only people you really trusted.

as of now, your seventeenth birthday was quickly approaching. clarisse and will wanted to make it special since you hadn’t really celebrated any birthdays since you were ten. three days before your mother died getting you to safety.

it seemed like their efforts were futile because three days before your birthday, a curly-haired blond boy walked through the entrance after supposedly killing a minotaur. all celebrations had been pushed to the back of everyone’s minds. to the back of clarisse’s mind.

you didn’t care though, your birthday wasn’t a fun celebration. it didn’t even hurt that you weren’t anyone’s first priority. in fact, you were happy.

percy came with a reputation already hung over his head. he had killed a minotaur, though clarisse would tell everyone that it was bull crap. he was like ten, there was no way. you didn’t care that much. if they say he killed a monster, then he killed a monster.

as you sat at lunch, three days before your birthday, you were shot looks of pity. whether it was because your girlfriend was ignoring you or because you hadn’t been claimed in nearly seven years, you had no idea.

with a sigh, you got up and retreated back to the hermes cabin. you wished chiron would have let you choose which one you wanted to stay in. it was clear you had overstayed your welcome. they didn’t like you very much.

later that day, after sparring, it was dinner and your girlfriend was nowhere to be found. and of course, neither was percy jackson.

you got up and walked down to the outhouse where two of clarisse’s half-siblings were guarding the outside.

“let me past,” you ordered. they shared a look so you just pushed past, in time to see clarisse be soaked head to toe with what you hoped was tap water.

she glared at the boy before turning and storming out past you, followed by another two of her siblings. you’d comfort her in a minute.

“i’m sorry about her,” you said sincerely. “clarisse doesn’t like liars and she doesn’t believe that you killed the minotaur.”

“i’m not lying!”

“i didn’t say you were,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “but, uh, water powers, eh?”

“what?”

you shook your head. “i’m y/n.”

the boy nodded. “i know who you are.”

that made you frown. “you mean you know i’ve been unclaimed for seven years?”

“i-i,” he stammered, making you scoff.

“no worries. see you around, percy jackson, minotaur killer, orphan.”

“ouch.”

“don’t worry. i got here the same way, only hades didn’t save my mother, i don’t think. i didn’t see, too busy running and not killing,” you said. “welcome to camp half-blood.”

you walked out and to the ares cabin, knocking on the door.

your girlfriend opened with a glare, “what?” she asked.

“hello to you, too. i missed you too,” you mocked. clarisse just raised an eyebrow so you dropped your facade. “what was that back there? he’s a child, clarisse.”

“he’s a liar.”

you rolled your eyes and pushed her into the cabin. clarisse held back a smile as you made it dark and brought her over to her bed before kissing her lips softly. “leave him alone, please. i have a feeling he’s not the type of person that you want to mess with.”

clarisse scoffed at your reasoning and didn’t make any promises, but held you close.

“has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” clarisse asked suddenly, making you roll your eyes. “not… not in the way the aphrodite kids are. more like… like deathly beautiful.”

“thanks… i think?”

-

capture the flag was something that camp took very seriously. you were obviously on clarisse’s team, red team. even though you hadn’t won since a child of athena started leading the blue team. part of you hoped that percy would join your team, but knew he wouldn’t.

you forced a smile onto your face when you saw him. will had told you to smile more. that it makes one more approachable. it didn’t feel right to you, though.

you coughed and got in position.

you were by the water when percy came, clarisse hot on his tail. it was a fight you didn’t want to get in the middle of. you flinch when you heard your girlfriend’s spear snap then again when she screamed. you felt bad for the kid, he didn’t know what he had just started.

luke then ran down with the rest of the blue team cheering him on as he dug the red flag into the pebbles. clarisse stormed away once again, leaving you, yet again, with percy jackson.

you saw a colourful outline of a person, before annabeth took off her cap and revealed herself. she congratulated and her cursed her out for not helping him. you watched from afar as annabeth showed him way.

percy was suddenly in the water.

when annabeth pushed percy into the water, everyone watched intently. his cuts healed instantly as he yelled at her. he didn’t even know the gravity of the situation. the crowds went silent as everyone’s gaze moved from percy to above him.

another demigod claimed within days, when you hadn’t been claimed in years.

percy jackson, son of poseidon. a forbidden child. the only one, as thalia had died.

you knew it was only a matter of time before he was sent on a quest. you prayed for him.

that night, you tossed and turned in bed. sleep never came easy, but now it was like something was forcing you to stay awake. you groaned and opened your eyes, confused.

this didn’t look like the hermes cabin.

“hello, child,” you heard a deep voice say, making you turn around.

“who are you?” you asked. you knew who he was, though. he was hades. you were in the underworld, somehow. what you wanted to know, was who he was to you. “is it you?”

“is what me?”

“my father. are you him?” you asked bitterly. seven years. seven years curious and he only now claimed you out of pure jealousy.

“you know the answer.”

you nodded. “why now? why not seven years ago?”

“you know the answer to that, too.”

you were becoming seriously irate. your father was a prick.

“the boy didn’t just take something from my brother. he took something from me, too. i need you to get it back,” you father ordered. “before you say no, i have something you want.”

he nodded to an area behind you and you turned to see a golden statue, like someone had been touched my midas. the statue looked eerily familiar. then it clicked. “my mother?” you whispered.

“get me my helm of darkness.”

you shot awake in a cold sweat, blinking at the light. was it morning already?

“someone get luke,” you heard a hermes kid whisper. “quickly!”

everyone was looking at you. or rather, above you. you looked up at your father’s symbol glowing above your head, a three-headed dog. you felt sick.

not only were you a forbidden child, but you were the forbidden child of hades. when word got around to luke, he had practically dragged you to chiron’s office. it didn’t take long, so your father’s symbol was still over your head before quickly disappearing after chiron saw it.

luke had been asked to leave and you were alone with chiron and mr. d. “i-“

“we have a quest for you,” mr. d cut you off. “with peter johnson.”

“we would like to you to go and retrieve the master bolt from your father,” chiron told you. “you leave with percy and two others of his choosing tomorrow.”

“do i not have a choice?” you asked.

“you’re the only way they’re going to get out of the underworld. they need you.”

you sighed and nodded. “okay.”

this was not you wanted when you said you wanted to be claimed.

suddenly, you had forgotten all about what your father asked of you. your only job now was protecting percy jackson.

[stylescine]

Weeks apart

Summary: Husband Harry returns from tour. Him and Y/N are eager to catch up on what they’ve missed.

Pairing: Husband!Harry x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, unprotected sex (p in v), doggy, harry is a huge tease, edging, dirty talk, praise, tiny bits of spanking, fingering, masturbation , harry giving reader instructions, mentions of alcohol, talk of nude pictures, creampie (wrap it before you tap it kids), fluff (aftercare), NOT PROOFREAD

Words: 4.8k

A/N: I'm back!! and hopefully I'll become more active now. But now, enjoy this smutty husband Harry one shot because I definitely enjoyed writing it ;)

Masterlist | Request

There was nothing more boring than being without Harry for weeks. FaceTime calls and hour-long calls couldn’t make up for all the time apart. 

It was especially haunting her when she was in bed, alone, the other side of the bed eerily empty and waiting for his return. There was no one to hug her in the morning, to wake her up with forehead kisses or watch TV with her in the evening. 

They tried to keep in touch as much as possible. It wasn’t a rarity that Harry sent her lots of pictures from wherever he was in the world at the moment. She could fill an entire folder with them. When he was waiting for a flight or bored in his hotel room, he messaged her whatever came into his head and she loved to chat with him throughout the day. 

But it just didn’t compare to the feeling of living with him. To have him around her, with his beautiful laugh and his arms around her whenever he could. 

She missed him at dinner when he wasn’t there to pull the chair back for her or smile at her from across the table. He didn’t drink his tea with her in the morning and only updated her on his breakfast through messages. 

She also missed him when she was in their bed, alone, thinking about him. Her own hands couldn’t replace his. They couldn’t replace the feeling of Harry pushing her legs apart, tongue sliding through her folds and his hands gripping her thighs. No toy could compare to the feeling of having him inside her. Nothing could ever make her come like Harry did. 

When she was in the shower, she tried to imagine his naked body pressed against hers. To have her breasts pressed against the cold wall as he was thrusting inside her from behind. 

But he wasn’t there and she would have to wait. 

The day finally came. 

She had counted the minutes until his plane would land and she would take him home with her. Leaning against her car, she couldn’t wait for Harry to come out of the airport and finally be in her arms again. It had been too long. Her body practically ached for him. For a hug, for a kiss… she just wanted to have him close again. 

Then the double doors finally slid open and out came her husband. Harry was carrying his bag and his suitcase as he was heading towards her. A large smile spread over his face, the excitement in his face undeniable. 

Looking at him, having him in front of her again, was enough to make her crave him even more. The sunglasses complimented his face, his hair as perfect as always and she couldn’t deny the urge to run her hands through it again. Messing up his hair was a habit of hers, but she knew that her husband adored it anyways. 

How could he always look so good? If she didn’t know him, she wouldn’t have been able to tell that he just had a long plane journey behind him. 

She made a few more steps towards him as Harry placed down his suitcase on the ground, opening his arms for her. Y/N was giddy with excitement, her steps speeding up until she could finally wrap her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could. His hands moved to her back, holding her close. The smell of his perfume filled her nose in an instant, her body relaxing as she could hear his heartbeat against her ear. 

“I missed you.” His voice was a whisper into her hair. His hands moved up and down on her back slowly, taking her in as much as he could. “I missed you too,” she replied with a smile before tilting her head up to look at him.

Harry was smiling at her, tears glistening in his eyes. His hands moved to her cheeks instead, soft thumbs slowly moving over her skin. He leaned down, capturing her lips with his own and it still felt as good as the first time they had kissed. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, telling him not to let go anytime soon. She had missed kissing him. The wonderful pressure of his lips against her own, the taste of his lips on her tongue and the thrill it sent through her body every time. Kissing Harry felt like a drug. It was undeniably addictive. 

His hands slid down her body again, resting on her waist as he pulled her closer. “Missed your body so much,” he whispered against her lips and it was enough to make a shiver run through her body. 

Her body had missed him just as much and they had a lot to catch up on. 

The door fell closed behind them in an instant. Harry gave her a knowing grin. 

They had both wanted this for so long. All the endless messages of how their body was craving the other. All the pictures sent back and forth, in an attempt to achieve the same pleasure as they would in person. But nothing would ever match the real thing. The heat that was building between them now.  

“Let’s take you to bed, darling.” 

Harry’s arm wrapped around the back of her legs, swiftly picking her up in his arms. 

As he carried her up the stairs, she was inevitably reminded of their wedding night. Harry had carried her up the stairs the exact same way, as traditional as ever in a wedding night, having her kissed over and over until they had finally reached the bedroom. 

It was the same now and her excitement was just as big. 

“Just like our wedding night.”

Harry gave her a grin in return. “Of course. You deserve that treatment all year long. Not just at our wedding.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, reassuring her that he would always show her the love she deserved. Harry would always care for her and love her the way she should be loved. 

Unconditionally. 

When they finally reached the bedroom, he gently placed her down on their bed. 

That’s where the tone very much shifted. 

They had talked about Harry being the more dominant part during sex before. They had enjoyed the slight play of power, the new opportunities that opened up with it. And she had been eager to continue where they had left off before he had gone on tour. 

Harry’s eyes darkened with lust as he stepped closer to the edge of the bed. His fingers found her chin, gently tilting her head up to make her look at him. 

“I hope you were a good girl while I was away.” His voice had lowered. He leaned forward slowly, his lips grazing her nose and then her mouth for a second. “I was thinking about you every night. I was thinking about how pretty you look when you suck me off. Or how well you bounce on my cock, sweetheart.” His voice was merely a whisper. 

She pressed her legs together in excitement, feeling the tension and want growing in her belly. Her hand moved over the man’s legs in front of her, wandering over the soft fabric of his pants before his bigger hand came to stop her. Their fingers intertwined for just a moment before he let go of her again. 

She dropped her hand to rest on her knees, waiting for him to make the next move. She looked as eager as she felt, eyes wide open and cheeks red from anticipation. 

“Undress,” he instructed, walking over to the armchair at the other end of the room. Harry grabbed a glass from the small table in front of it, pouring himself a drink before he sat down, watching his wife intently. He couldn’t wait to see her naked, to wrap his lips around her nipples again and make her scream and squirm underneath him. There was only so much his hand could do and nothing compared to the feeling of being inside her. 

Y/N was quick to follow his words and pull her shirt over her head. She got back up from the bed to open her pants and slide them down her thighs, feeling Harry’s eyes on her constantly. The hunger in them was undeniable. He took a sip of his drink, crossing his legs as he sat in the armchair to enjoy the show. 

She unclasped her bra with ease, letting it fall to the ground. Harry let his eyes wander over her perfect breasts, his tongue craving to flick against her nipples. He could feel the boner in his pants, straining against the fabric, but he would have to leave it like this for a little bit longer. 

Her fingers hooked into the sides of her panties and she stepped out of them when they fell to the ground. She didn’t feel any kind of shame to stand like this in front of Harry. His gaze alone was enough to show her how much he was enjoying the view. 

His tongue moved over his lips for a brief moment before he started speaking again. “Lay down on the bed for me and get yourself ready. I want to see you play with that perfect pussy of yours.” The excitement even translated into his voice. Another sip from his glass before he got back up and out of the chair. He bent down to open his shoes quickly and take them off. 

She laid down in the middle of the bed in that time, spreading her legs for him. She wanted to assure he would have a good view of what would be happening. The thought of Harry watching her, being there to see her touch herself, was enticing enough and made her legs shiver with want. Her hand travelled over her own stomach, finding that warm spot between her legs. Two fingers started to rest on her clit while Harry’s eyes followed her hand closely. He didn’t even dare to take off his shirt, fearing that he would even miss a second of the show unfolding before him. 

Y/N started to move her fingers in slow, circular motions and leant her head back onto the mattress, looking up at the ceiling as she was touching herself. Her pleasure was slowly increasing, but she was taking it slow because she knew more would await her as soon as Harry would come over and start touching her. 

The sight in front of him reminded Harry of the videos she had sent him. The videos he had so often watched while he was on his own, in some hotel room, moving his hand up and down on his shaft as he imagined being inside of his beautiful wife instead. Watching her in real time in front of him now was even better, but his fingertips were already aching to touch her properly. To not stand away in a safe distance and only be able to watch. 

When she took a moment to readjust her hand to start with faster motions, Harry took the chance to take off his shirt and open his pants. He slid them down his legs quickly, both the pants and shirt quickly being forgotten on the ground. Just in his boxers, she took a moment to look at him and admire the growing arousal that was hard to ignore. Her hand was craving to get a hold on it. 

“Keep going,” he instructed her, voice growing deeper as he made a few steps closer to her. The feeling of being watched by him was turning her on even more as she started to move her hand a lot faster and her legs started to shiver with arousal. She could feel the insides of her thighs growing more wet and the tension in her belly heighten. 

Her movements grew more frantic as she was trying to chase after her own climax. Moans slipped past her lips as she continued to move towards that sweet release. Her legs started to move together a bit again, but she kept flicking over her clit, then moving her fingers in circles once more. Her cheeks grew red as she was so close to her orgasm, but- 

Harry’s fingers wrapped around her wrist and stopped her hand from moving. “That’s enough for now.”

The edging left her breathless and looking up at her husband with wide eyes. She wanted that release, but she knew this was a part of their game. Harry would give her what she wanted when the time was right. And there was no better feeling than coming with him inside her anyways. 

Taking a deep breath, she sat up on the bed again, tilting her head back to look up at Harry standing in front of her. He took a step forward to stand between her legs, his eyes wandering over her naked body and she could read the desire off his face. His pupils were wide and his hands were quick to move over her shoulders, up over her neck until he was cupping her face with his hands. 

His thumb moved over her lips, tracing their shape, before he pushed them apart to let her take his thumb into her mouth. She sucked on it ever so slightly, not breaking eye contact with the man in front of her. 

When he pulled his hand away from her again, there was a smirk on his lips. His other hand moved back over her neck, feeling the soft skin of her collarbones, until he reached her left breast. His thumb flicked over her nipple now, his other hand soon joining on her right boob. A long sigh left her as he continued to flick her nipples with his thumbs. He did so with a precision that left her breathing heavily, chest pushing up into his touch. 

“Harry.”

His name sounded like music from her lips. It made him smirk even more, his eyes searching for hers again. She had her eyes half closed, enjoying the bliss his fingers was giving her on her breasts. 

Then he stopped with the movements, thumbs hovering over her erect nipples. 

“Lay back down,” he whispered and watched her fall back onto the bed. The sight was heavenly. He would take a thousand pictures of her if he could. Maybe he would one day. Have her pose for him in nice underwear and keep those pictures in his phone for when he was away. 

Harry palmed himself through his boxers for a moment. He needed to feel her tight cunt around him soon or it would drive him absolutely crazy. 

“Spread your legs for me, darling,” he instructed, watching her open her legs. 

He could watch her for hours. The pink of her pussy spread out before him, wetness coating her legs already. Harry moved his hands over her skin. His calloused fingers were enough to send shivers down her spine and make her legs tremble. She wanted him so bad and it was driving her crazy that he wasn’t inside of her yet. Her walls were clenching around nothing, wanting that release so badly. 

Her husband looked so good in the dim light of the bedroom. His eyes were darkened with lust, pupils wide as he kneeled between her legs and kissed from her ankles up to her knees and then eventually over the insides of her thighs. Harry’s light stubble rubbed against her skin and left her shivering in its wake. She pushed her hips up, desperate for more, desperate to feel him where she wanted it the most. 

“Harry, please,” she whimpered, spreading her legs apart even more. 

“You need me so bad, love, don’t you?” His teasing was driving her crazy, but it was sexy at the same time. Harry’s mouth came closer to her ear, teeth brushing over her earlobe, before he continued to whisper to her. 

“Been thinking about your wet pussy all the time. How much it needs me.” She could feel his hand slide up her thigh, nearing her sensitive core until he slipped one finger inside with ease. It was barely a stretch, but even the slightest friction felt good enough to let a moan escape her. His finger curled ever so slightly, pushing again that sweet spot inside of her. It made her whimper, her hands searching for support by holding onto her husband’s shoulders. 

She could smell his cologne and admire his tattoos as he was hovering over her. There was a bit of sweat on his chest, his cross necklace hanging loose in front of it. There was no better sight in the world and she pushed her hips up to demand more. 

“I need you so bad,” she whispered, her voice breaking. How much more would she have to beg to finally feel Harry fill her out again? 

He took his hand away from her, leaving her pussy clenching around nothing again. 

His hands moved to her hips instead, looking down at her. There was a mischievous smirk on his face, already telling her that it would still be a while until she could feel the sweet release of her orgasm. “We’re going to take our time, sweetheart.” 

She let out another whimper, a sign that she was craving anything he was willing to give her right now. Her eyes searched Harry’s, but before she could really read his expression, he flipped her onto her stomach with ease. A surprised gasp escaped her, but her excitement quickly rose. Having Harry fuck her from behind was one of her favourite positions. She could always feel him a lot deeper that way and his cock already wasn’t small. 

Wiggling her butt a little, she was hoping to gain a bit more attention from Harry. Her husband was mentally focused on her, but she needed to feel his large hands cup her ass or feel his stubble rub against her sensitive skin. He had left her ass cheeks covered with love bites often enough, the sight alone being enough to remind her of previous nights whenever she walked past a mirror in the morning. 

“So eager for me,” Harry groaned, hand moving over her lower back, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. His rings were cold against her skin as he started to squeeze her left cheek. 

She bit down on her bottom lip as she pushed her butt up to meet him. She wanted more of his touches. Needed him to touch her everywhere. To pull her legs apart and lick through her folds. Her pussy was craving his body and she didn’t know how much more patience she had. 

Yet it didn’t change the fact that all of it was heightening her excitement. Her tummy was full with that familiar tension, the same desire she always felt. The one that hadn’t been satisfied for so long as Harry was touring around the world. 

She could feel Harry remove his hand from her butt slowly. 

“How I missed your body.” 

His hand came down onto her skin again in an instant. It left behind a sting that made her moan and writhe underneath his touch. She could especially feel where his rings had met with her sensitive skin and she was craving more. 

Hearing Harry talk about how much he had missed her, how much he had been craving her body just as she had been craving his, was boosting her confidence quite easily. Their relationship had always been built on trust and comfort, but she still loved to receive praise or kind words from him. Especially when they had been apart for so long and it was finally time to catch up with all they had missed out on. 

“You better send me more pictures of that ass next time,” Harry mumbled into her ear. She could now feel his weight on top of her back, feel the fabric of his boxers pressed against her ass. His hard dick was pressed between her butt cheeks, his hips moving slowly as he was grinding against her. Low moans escaped Harry’s throat. She pushed her hips up once more, desperate for even a little bit more of the friction. 

It became harder for Harry to hold himself back as well, so he figured it would now be the time to finally feel her again. He pushed his boxers down and discarded them somewhere in the room, lying down between her legs again. His chest was pressed against her back, his weight on top of her a welcomed sensation, as his lips moved over her shoulder blades and one of his hands brushed down over her waist. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered, lips attaching to the back of her neck. He started to suck on the soft skin, moans leaving her mouth in response. His tongue soon flicked over the sensitive spot, his teeth nibbling on the red bruise for a second before he moved further down. Kisses were planted on her spine until Harry reached her lower back and eventually her ass. 

His teeth sunk softly into her cheeks.  She let out a gasp, wiggling against the mattress. She needed more. It was starting to get more and more unbearable. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, darling? Tell me how much you want it.” Harry enjoyed asking her about it explicitly. It didn’t matter how much her body was already showing him that she was in need of his touch, he wanted to hear it come from her lips. 

“Yes. I need you so bad, Harry. I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” Her voice was shaking, tinged with desire and continuous want. 

“Then I don’t want to keep you waiting for longer.”

The sentence alone was relieving her and urging her on at the same time. She would finally get what she had been fantasising about all this time. His hands had wandered her body in her dreams, she had used toys to try and replicate the feeling of Harry inside her, but it would never feel like the real experience. She needed it. It was almost like she had been starving and Harry was finally giving her body what it needed. 

Harry pulled her up onto her knees by her hips. “Keep your ass in the air for me, pretty girl,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to still hear it. 

His cock pressed against her ass as he was grinding against it. Slow at first, then with a bit more pressure. His hands continued their path over the curve of her bum, kneading its cheeks for a moment as he watched her squirm on the bed. His right hand moved lower, brushing over the inside of her thigh until he found her wetness once more. 

“Someone is so excited for my cock.” Harry’s voice was low, but he didn’t conceal the chuckle that left after his words. 

He pushed her legs apart a bit more to gain more space for himself. 

She buried her face in the comfortable pillows on the end of the bed, biting her lip as she waited patiently for Harry to enter her. To fill her to the brim and make her legs shake. 

She could slowly feel him ease inside, a slight sting rushing through her from the first initial pressure, but as soon as he was buried inside her completely, she let out a loud moan. It felt good to have him stretch her out again. His hand moved over the small of her back and up her spine, pushing her further down into the pillows as he slowly started thrusting into her. 

Her groans were drowned out by the pillow at first, but when he picked up his pace, loud moans slipped past her lips. His name fell off them as well, filing the room with a low groan from Harry as well. 

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrusted harder into her. He leaned forward, getting closer to her ear. 

“I want to hear you, Y/N.”

Harry almost pulled out completely of her, just to thrust hard into her again. His hand moved over her back until he took a hold of her hair and pulled on it as he continued to thrust into her. 

Her legs were shaking and the tension in her tummy kept building. He was moving just at the right pace, leaving her as a moaning and shaking mess underneath him. The pleasure filled her completely, from head to toe, and her shaking legs were evidence of that. She could feel him bottom out every time he thrusted back into her, her own nails clawing at the pillows. 

She planted her hands on the mattress when Harry pulled her back by her hair, letting out a loud whimper in response. His dominant side felt like the icing on the cake as he continued to make her feel so good. His name left her mouth multiple times again and each one of his thrusts brought her closer to the edge. 

Her hips moved back against him, desperate to get closer to the edge. Harry tugged on her hair again. The pain coursing through her just urged her on even more. 

“Fuck,” she groaned as her legs began to shake. She was balancing on the very edge now, so close to letting herself fall apart. That sweet release was in reach when–

Harry stopped his movements, keeping himself buried deep inside her. His fingers trailed over her back, leaving goosebumps behind and shivers running down her spine. She was breathing heavily as she turned her head to look back at him. There was a mischievous smirk on his face again. It was incredibly hot when he was edging her, when he showed her who was in command, but she was now desperate for her own release, to feel that wave of pleasure finally come over her. 

“Harry, please, I need to-”

“What do you need, darling?” He leaned forward, brushing some of her hair away to place a kiss on her shoulder blade. “Tell me.” His voice was raspy and she knew he was holding back his own release. This would be the final time he was dragging it out and it was definitely time for them both to get what they wanted. 

“I need to come, Harry. Please.” 

He let out a soft moan at her words. Begging for her release was turning her on as well, biting her lip as she started to move her hips back against him in an attempt to get closer to what she wanted. 

Harry couldn’t wait any longer either. 

“Good girl.”

His left hand went back to her hip as he picked up his pace once more. His thrusts were fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time she could feel him deep inside her, it brought her a bit closer to her release. 

Harry’s right hand wandered over her thigh to her hip, but then continued on to her stomach, eventually sliding down to find her clit. His fingers started to run over it in circles. 

She was a whimpering mess underneath him as all those sensations filled her body. The heat in her body was rising, her knuckles turned white as she held on to the soft fabric of the pillows, the tension in her tummy reaching its high until Harry gave ever one final thrust, fingers flicking over her clit as he finally pushed her over the edge. 

Her orgasm came in waves, making her entire body shiver and her pussy clench around his cock. It was enough to throw Harry over the edge as well. He didn’t hide his moans as his dick started to pulse inside her, painting her walls white. 

The pleasure was still coursing through her. She dropped face forward into the pillows, letting out a long sigh as she pressed her legs together ever so slowly. Harry pulled out of her, leaving the cum trickling down her legs as she was catching her breath. 

A low chuckle sounded behind her before her husband laid down next to her. His fingers brushed through her messed up hair as he admired the red on her cheeks and the dazed look in her eyes. 

“Missed me?” 

“I think so.”

Harry leaned forward to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. “Maybe I should run you a bath,” he suggested, thumb brushing over her cheek. 

“That sounds wonderful,” she replied with a smile. 

And as Harry got up from their shared bed, Y/N wished he would never have to leave again. 

[lundenloves]

Dad!Simon reacting to his oldest daughter having a small crush on a boy at school! Overprotective dad!simon having to be scary (ofc not towards his lil family) but in private with Wife!Reader he’s emotional because his little girl is growing up 😭😭 fluff mix with tiny angst

Thx! Love ya Dad Simon series 🖤

dad!simon masterlist | taglist

ANON! This mf would get migraines over the idea of his sweet little baby girl and a boy. I’ve had quite a few asks about this, all along the same lines (crush, boyfriend etc) so just decided to make one of all of them. Unless someone wants something dead specific, shout me!

Everyone grab your binoculars as we observe from a safe distance.

He almost choked on his drink, dropping the glass to the counter with a cringe inducing clink. One that echoed around the now silent kitchen as his eyes caught onto his wife’s. “A what?”

His eldest daughter threw her arms in the air in battle of her mother. “Why would you even say anything to him, oh my god.” She groaned frustratedly, attempting to storm away but cut short when Simon had cleared his throat.

“Why didn’t you tell me.” He leant his palm on the kitchen counter, looking down at the girl who was slowly growing to look like her mother instead of him. “What’s his name?”

“Because you’re like this.” She gestured to him, whining a sigh and turning to her mother. “Tell him, mum. He always gets involved.”

Simon laughed, balling his hand into a fist and habitually hitting down on the counter with his movement. “I’m only asking, love.” His arms then crossed over his chest, feet a length apart from another. “What age is he?”

“See!” She shot a hand toward him, widening her eyes at you. “He can’t help it.”

“Well, I need to know what—“

“Simon.” You held a hand out to silence him, a slight tilt of your head telling him to let go. “Invite him for dinner, darling.” The warmth in your voice made Simon itch from the other side of the counter, a half-hearted glare piercing into you over what you had just asked.

“No.”

“Why?” You knew exactly why.

“Because dad will just fu- interrogate him.” She left the room, walking down the hall as she continued, “Which he doesn’t even get to do. He’s never here anyway!” Her words were spat out and Simon tsked, turning back to you when she had stomped up the stairs.

“He’s her age.” You said quietly.

“You knew?” He whisper-shouted as you took a step toward him.

“Of course I knew.” He humphed when you had wrapped your arms around him, humming into his chest. “That’s what mothers are for.” A long sigh left him at that, pulling back from you and rubbing a hand through his hair and down his face visibly stressed.

“I need a cigarette.”

“It was always going to happen, Simon.” You smiled, following him outside and nudging his shoulder playfully. “Leave her be. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He eyed you through a sideward glance.

“She’s not going to get pregnant.”

“If she’s with a little rat—“

“Stop.”

He lit his cigarette, taking a long inhale before shrugging. “That kid is not stepping one foot into this house.” The smoke escaped his mouth with each word, creating a momentary cloud around him. “Not when i’m here.”

“She’s growing up.”

“Too fast.” Simon shook his head with another long drag, the two of them stood in silence.

Being a father to a teenage girl was a new era of problems. Ones he was yet to even learn about never-mind tackle, and this was apparently one of them. The boyfriend dilemma. He was not immune to the dad feelings, resulting in many a phone call to Johnny who somehow knew everything. The man didn’t even have a family.

“Just invite the kid, see what happens. He’s hardly going to pull out an M9.”

“I’m not having him ‘round.”

“She can go to his then.”

“No she fucking can’t.”

In result, he was invited over. On one condition with his daughter, so was uncle Johnny.

Him and Simon were stood in the kitchen when the scrawny kid walked in. You had convinced your husband that holding his knife wasn’t a great idea, twirling it around his fingers before forcefully sticking it into the chopping board.

“Alright, son.” Johnny slapped a hand onto the kids back, ultimately welcoming him but also shoving him toward Simon.

“Sorry. That’s my uncle.” His daughter would point with her eyes, steering him away from her dad and to the seat furthest away. Many a death-stare had been shot across the table toward her father, all returned of course if it wasn’t for you stomping on Simon’s foot underneath it.

It was a mess, to say the least. Bar Johnny’s flamboyant stories that kept at least a drop of fun.

this was supposed to be a lot shorter but LMAOO you can’t convince me ghost wouldn’t recruit soap in this whole thing. THIS is canon. so many thoughts, such little brain.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugaduu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog

if you weren’t tagged i couldn’t get your blog!

[anatee]

A sweet way to go | Anakin x Reader Smut 18+

A sweet way to go | Anakin Skywalker x Reader Smut. 18+. MINORS DNI.

Content: Anakin x Female!Padawan!reader, L/C is lighstaber colour, like two curse words, smut: piv (unprotected), risky, in water at that?

Word count: 6.9K

The sun was beginning to set over the Jedi temple as Y/N was walking through its quiet corridors, heading for dinner. There was nothing unusual about her day as Yoda's Padawan, well, until she heard a familiar voice from one of the rooms.

Anakin Skywalker. Her friend of almost five years, a fellow Padawan, and a handsome guy at that, one of the best views you could stumble upon at the temple. She peeked into the room and was surprised to find Anakin standing there on the polished floor, speaking to a group of twenty-something younglings who were listening to him intently.

Y/N smiled to herself as she crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, wishing to watch this for a little longer. It was nice to see Anakin like this, in a bit of a different role, smiling and laughing with the kids, still as goofy as he always was, but at the same time he had this aura of a responsible, skilled master around him, one that only made him that much more attractive. His longish hair and open robe were simply a cherry on top, probably her favourite parts of his appearance that day... And every other.

The Force quickly alerted Anakin that a familiar soul was nearby, and it wasn't long before he spotted Y/N in the door and smirked at her immediately.

"Seems like we have an observer," he said loudly, making all the younglings turn to her. "How long have you been there?"

"Oh, sorry, professor." She laughed. "Maybe I wanted to join the class, huh?" she added in a playful tone, making him chuckle.

Anakin simply could not stop himself. "Really? Don't tell me you finally decided to learn how to hold a lightsaber properly?" 

She opened her mouth in disbelief as she heard that, then walked up to him to smack him on the arm.

"Don't do that, kids," she said quickly as some younglings reacted with laughter.

"You heard her, kids." Anakin grinned. "Do not smack each other, even if you're messing around." He shot Y/N a knowing look, a clear sign he said that not for the kids, but just to mess with her.

She leaned in a little to whisper into his ear. "I'll strangle you once they're gone."

Anakin gave her a sly smile. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Y/N."

There was something in the way he said it that made a shiver run down her spine. She wasn't sure what, but he just did something to her - however, she had to compose herself quickly.

"Oh? Wanna bet?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"You're on." He sniggered, then cleared his throat and turned to the younglings, speaking loudly. "Now, as I was saying before we got so rudely interrupted," he shot her a quick look, "there are many stances that can help you in a fight. Some are meant to help you keep balance, some are meant to defend you from being disarmed. Like this one."

Anakin demonstrated the stance, his moves sharp and precise, his muscles flexing as he did, and Y/N watched him just as carefully as the younglings did, if not more. When she caught herself doing that, she immediately shook her head.

"Oh, no, kids, he's doing it wrong. Let me show you."

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Anakin raised an eyebrow, smiling cheekily.

"Why don't we show the kids the moves in action?" She crossed her arms on her chest, and the kids immediately started whispering amongst each other in excitement.

"Are you suggesting a duel?"

Y/N shrugged. "Just to show the kids what to do." She turned to the younglings. "Do you want to see?"

Cheers erupted among the younglings. They were more than eager to see two experienced Padawans demonstrate a duel for them, and some of them were already trying to predict a winner.

"Alright then. Let's do it," Anakin said to Y/N's delight - she knew he would never give up on a challenge, especially if he got to show off.

She removed her lightsaber from the belt around her waist and ignited it. The L/C glow painted her face as she held the weapon in front of herself.

"Don't worry, kids." She smiled at them sincerely, then turned to Anakin with a smirk. "Your professor will be unscathed."

Anakin smirked right back at her, igniting his own lightsaber and getting into position, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's not me I would be worried about."

They both forgot about the younglings as they started to duel. Neither of them really intended to hurt the other, but that did not mean there wasn't anything interesting to watch. The kids gasped and sometimes even yelled in awe as two Padawans wielded their weapons, blocking each other with precision, avoiding blows of their opponents with swift movements. At first it was hard to tell who had the upper hand; they were both skilled, and even though Anakin had the advantage of being taller and just bigger in general, Y/N was smaller and could move a bit quicker. The kids were cheering on them both, reacting almost to every move.

However, Anakin's strength - or maybe his smug smile that distracted her greatly - was what gave him the advantage. He disarmed Y/N, and the younglings gasped collectively as her lightsaber rolled over the polished floor. Anakin smirked as she stood in front of him, defenseless, and pointed his weapon at her heart.

"Do you yield, Padawan?" he asked, as cocky as one can be. Y/N already knew she wasn't going to hear the end of it.

"Fuck you," she mouthed so the younglings would not hear it, but her words were clear enough to him, causing him to chuckle.

"Is that all you got?" he whispered, then spoke louder. "Do you yield?" He kept his lightsaber pointed at her, trying not to laugh.

She let out a defeated sigh, then put her hands up.

"Okay, okay, I give up." She sighed again and Anakin lowered his lightsaber and turned it off, smiling as though he was the king of the world. 

"Sometimes, children, even if you really don't want to... You have to admit defeat," she added towards the kids.

"And this is how we disarm opponents, younglings." Anakin smirked, then bowed in front of the kids dramatically, for what they gave him a round of applause. Y/N rolled her eyes, then used the Force to pull her lightsaber back to herself.

"These poor kids having to put up with you..." she said to him quietly, shaking her head as the younglings kept on clapping.

"Oh, they love me," he replied proudly. "Right kids? Is my class fun?"

The kids erupted in cheers, making Y/N sigh again as she knew Anakin was loving every second of it.

"Sure..."

"You're just jealous because I'm a better teacher. I understand." He put a hand on her shoulder in mock comfort. "Not everyone can be as great as I am."

For that, Anakin got himself another smack on his arm.

"Hey!" He laughed. "Just because I can take it doesn't mean you should keep doing it!"

Despite his words, he did not stop smiling for a second, and the younglings were starting to giggle, too. "Kids, don't do it unless you wanna get punished."

"And how are you going to punish me, huh?" Y/N whispered. "Put me in the corner?"

It was almost as if a fire glazed over Anakin's eyes as he smirked and replied quietly:

"You'd be surprised."

She swallowed. He did something to her again, it was clear by the tingling sensation overcoming her body. The feeling was so overwhelming she wondered if he could sense it through the Force.

"Well, this will be all for today, younglings." Anakin turned to the kids. "I hope you enjoyed the class and my victory. Now off to dinner!"

The moment the kids started filing out, Y/N smacked him on the arm again.

"Hey!" He looked offended and amused at the same time. "Now you're just being mean."

She shrugged, smirking. "Someone has to keep you in check, Skywalker."

He bit his lip. "Maybe I like you keeping me in check?"

She wondered if he saw the effect these words had on her, as she had to swallow to compose herself. Heat was beginning to spread onto her 

cheeks anyway, making it all harder to reply.

"Cheeky bastard," she hissed. "You should be glad there's someone willing to sacrifice themselves for the job."

Anakin just grinned at her. "What are you up to now?"

She shrugged. "Dinner, I guess."

"Oh, right. It's that hour... I'll go with you then." He walked up to the door and bowed slightly. "Ladies first," he said just to tease her, and it worked.

She snorted as she walked out of the room. "Not you pretending to be a gentleman after literally pointing your lightsaber at my throat."

Anakin seemed completely unbothered at that. He chuckled as he followed her out of the room and then walked beside her through the corridor.

"Oh, excuse me, missy," he tried to poke her in the ribs, but she jumped to the side quickly, "but I believe it's you who suggested that duel."

"Just for the kids!" She laughed, but then got a bit more serious. "But in all seriousness, Anakin, I admire your work. These kids seemed to really like you. I would never take you for a teacher, but it seems like you're doing a good job."

"Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot. I really try to make it work for them, you know?

After dinner, which was not lacking constant banter, they both headed to their respective quarters with smiles on their faces.

Y/N began her next day at dawn. Master Yoda always strongly recommended meditation, especially after experiencing strong emotions, and she definitely had a hard time forgetting what Anakin made her feel the day before. On one hand, they teased each other like always, but on the other, she felt there was something else, something that never occurred to her before.

The meditation room was empty at that time of the day, allowing her to bathe in the morning sun. She sat crossed-legs in front of the large windows, allowing the rays to hug her body with pleasant warmth. She wasn't wearing her usual Jedi robe, just a white, tight tunic, allowing her to move swiftly.

The quietness of the empty room really helped her focus on her breathing, on communicating with the Force. With her eyes closed, she allowed herself to give into the meditation completely, taking slow, deep breaths. Peace was overcoming her entirely for quite some time, until...

The Force told her someone was there, in the room, somewhere behind her. A very familiar presence, one she knew so well she had no problem in sensing who it was. There went her efforts...

She smiled to herself, not opening her eyes. "Hmm... I'm sensing an idiot."

A familiar chuckle echoed in the spacious room. Anakin could not help himself; he also sensed her presence there while walking by the room and he didn't intend on losing the opportunity to tease her. The thing was, she was even faster to do it than him, and that may have been one of his favourite things about her. 

"Is that so?" he replied innocently, slowly approaching her from behind. "And where is he?"

She smirked as the sound of his voice confirmed what the Force already told her. "There he is."

"Oh, so I'm an idiot?" he teased as he stood right behind her, close enough for his robes to brush against her back. It did cause some tingling in her, a pleasant sensation one could crave.

"Yeah, but I kind of like that," she admitted before she could even realise how it might have sounded. Anakin struck right back.

He smirked. "Lucky me. So are you into idiots?"

That question sent a shot of adrenaline through her entire body, one that made her quiver slightly. It was flat out flirting, no one could deny that, and it was the last thing she was supposed to be doing, the very thing she tried to protect herself from by meditation. Yet there he was, Anakin Skywalker, the very menace she could not refuse.

"Why, are you applying for the position of my crush or something?" she bit back, her tone playful, but there was some nervousness in the back of her head, even though she knew he would take it as a joke.

Her eyes were still closed, but she could sense him walk to stand in front of her, some of his body blocking the sunlight.

"Do I even need to apply? I'd say I win the auditions without doing that."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me I'm wrong." He grinned. "I have many admirers, but..."

"Many admirers?" She smirked, keeping her eyes closed, which made it so much easier not to get charmed by his smile. "Are we talking about these younglings? Aged eight or something?”

"Oh, just admit that you're jealous, Y/N."

She took a moment before responding. Maybe she was. Maybe just a tiny bit. She knew he had admirers and at the same time, she could not blame them, he was very easy to be smitten with. But that definitely wasn't something she was going to admit.

She snorted. "I am very much unbothered, thank you very much." 

"Mhm..."

She knew he was not buying it, but it was all a part of their little game they both absolutely adored.

"You really want me not to focus here. And here I thought I could meditate today." She shook her head, still keeping her eyes closed.

"Oh, am I distracting you?"

This was an understatement.

He stood directly in front of her, blocking the sunlight, then squatted so their faces were at the same level. 

"Why don't you open your eyes for me?" he asked, smirking, almost as if he knew she could see his face through the Force.

"Because I don't want to get out of my meditation state."

"Oh, so if you saw me, you wouldn't be able to concentrate, huh? Can't blame you, I am quite charming after all..."

She sighed, feeling the cockiness radiate off him. "Does your ego still fit this temple or should we build it an extra room?"

He sniggered. "I'd say it's big, but it's for a reason. I am pretty awesome, after all."

"Oh? And what else is big about you, Skywalker?"

Risky. This question was risky, but she couldn't help herself. The urge to flirt with him was strong, and the fact that her eyes were still closed gave her more courage.

Anakin did feel the atmosphere in the room change slightly when she said that, but he did nothing to release the constantly growing tension between them - on the contrary, he was enjoying it. 

She could not see him, but she knew there was a smug smile on his face in that very moment. 

"My lightsaber is quite big."

Y/N coughed, trying not to look for any deeper meaning. "Is that so?"

"How long are you going to just sit there pretending you do not want to see me?"

She sighed again, refusing to open her eyes. "Obi-Wan must be a saint for putting up with you."

"Oh, come on." Anakin rolled his eyes. "Obi-Wan would be the last person to call a saint. He is very patient, but do not give him that much credit." He chuckled.

"But if he has you as his Padawan, he must be doing some sort of penance."

Through the Force she could see that Anakin rolled his eyes once more, making her snigger. He didn't reply, taking a moment to look over her body, enjoying how the tunic hugged her curves; it wasn't often he saw her without the robe, which hid all the best parts. He couldn't help but wonder what that tunic was covering, too.

"Does your silence mean I win?" She teased after a moment. "Can I continue my meditation in peace?"

He let out a sigh, one she did not quite like. "You really want me gone, huh?"

That was, of course, not the case, even if her meditation was ruined.

"You are welcome to join me," she said quickly, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You know I'm not the best at being silent," he said eventually with a small, somehow nervous laugh. "But if I can do it with you, I'm willing to try. Will you teach me?"

Finally, for the first time, Y/N smiled genuinely and opened her eyes. There he was, attractive as always, a meter in front of her, giving her a smile that could melt hearts.

"There we go. These beautiful eyes of yours." He beamed, and she swallowed quickly, so he wouldn't see the effect these words had on her.

"I think you could do with some meditation." She chuckled. "Sit in front of me then."

He obeyed eagerly and settled himself on the floor right in front of her, cross-legged. She didn't even think of telling him he should keep some distance; he sat as close as he could to her, their knees touching. She did not comment on that, but her body did react, sending a heatwave through her as the Force whirling in that small space between them seemed to be almost vibrating. These were definitely not good conditions for meditation.

She put her hands on his shoulders, almost absent-mindedly. "Sit up straight. Relax your shoulders a little."

He obeyed, and she could see he was truly listening. At that moment, it was difficult to stop herself from touching him just once more. Although it was unnecessary, she grabbed his wrists delicately and guided his hands onto his knees.

"Keep your hands here," she said softly, glancing at his face to look for any indication that he might have not liked the touch, but the smile on his face couldn't be missed. "And close your eyes." She brought her hands to his face as if to demonstrate, and that was quite the intimate touch. Anakin must have noticed that, too.

"Are you sure you need to do that? I can close them myself, you know."

A blush creeped onto her cheeks. She got lost for a moment there, she really did, but how could she not?

"Oh, sorry for trying to help you, Skywalker," she retorted to save herself. He smiled, and that was the last thing she saw before closing her eyes again, but that view stayed etched into her mind.

"Okay... And what now?"

"You breathe. You reach out. Nothing exists but you and the Force. I'm not here, the room is not here, the temple is not here... Deep, nice breaths."

"Alright," Anakin replied, genuinely wanting to listen to her advice. He was usually too reckless, too hotheaded for something like meditation, however, he was willing to learn - especially if it meant spending some time with her, one on one.

"Is there anything else I should do?"

"No blabbering." She chuckled. "Just focus on your breathing."

And so he did, trying to listen to her advice, truly enjoying that moment. However, it was hard to feel completely at peace when she was this close, their knees still touching, and the Force screaming at him that she was there. Her presence was soothing and exciting at the same time, making him feel things he knew the Jedi Council would not approve of. Fortunately, there was no Jedi Council in that room, nobody to judge his feelings... Unless Y/N sensed them.

It felt somehow intimate. Sitting there with her in complete peace and silence, breathing, the Force whirling around them, the rays of sunlight hugging their bodies... No words were spoken, but an invisible bond seemed to be forming between them, and Y/N noticed it too.

Anakin could not help it. Focus was never his strong suit, especially in her presence, and so he opened his eyes to look at her, enjoying her face from up close. She didn't seem to sense that and kept sitting there with nothing but peace on her face.

She really looked beautiful. Her face was relaxed completely, and he could see each and every detail of it like never before. He did miss her eyes - they were much prettier when open - but there was something else he could focus on, and that were her lips. Rosy, innocent, and just so kissable, although Anakin should not even think about it.

And yet he did.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," he said quietly, his tone warm, lacking any playfulness. He was sincere, there was no doubt about it.

Y/N was caught off guard so much she opened her eyes immediately. Anakin's voice was quiet, but in that vast, empty room, even the smallest whisper was noticeable. Her heart started pounding against her chest as she found his face much closer than before.

"Oh?" was all she could say as he looked at her, a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. "Do you... Really think so?" she asked, as she had to be sure.

"I have always thought so," he admitted loud and clear.

Anakin's voice echoed against the walls. Once it was gone, the room went dangerously quiet; the only sound they could hear was Y/N's heavy breathing. What was she supposed to do now, when he was staring at her lips, giving her a clear idea of what he wanted to do? The Force was pulling her towards him, not away.

Anakin couldn't stop himself. He's never been this close with her, and, as if it wasn't enough - alone. Her lips were irresistible, and so was the Force pulling him towards her. He felt dryness in his mouth he didn't expect to feel at that moment. It seemed ages before he even moved, but when he did, everything happened quickly. He leaned in even closer, a bare inch from her lips, and her heart began speeding up; it was the last thing she expected him to do. She could hear that pounding and became a bit scared of how close they were, yet did nothing to distance herself. It was a decision he made in a split second - before he could change his mind, before he could lose the courage, and before he could hear his Jedi conscience - he kissed her. 

It was a short kiss, but full of so many emotions they had been both suppressing for a long time, emotions that finally reached its destination. For a moment, they were both overwhelmed by happiness, until the guilt started to kick in, and they pulled away reluctantly, as if someone was trying to disconnect two magnets constantly searching for the other.

For a moment, they both just stared at each other. Y/N's cheeks were flushed; she wondered if he could see that, but was that really what she should be worried about? They were breaking the Jedi Code they both swore to obey; that kiss confirmed to them they were both already attached to each other.

The silence seemed to be endless, before Y/N cleared her throat and finally spoke, trying to articulate any comprehensive noise in the state of complete shock.

"Anakin... I..."

"I know. We should not have." Her voice seemed to wake him up, as he let out a disappointed sigh. "But I can't help the way I feel. I listened to the Force."

She swallowed and looked down. "I did, too."

The silence devoured them after that. They were both conflicted, feeling guilty and euphoric at the same time. How were they supposed to ignore the pounding of their hearts, the only thing they could hear at that moment?

"We have to forget about this," she said finally, knowing this was the only reasonable option. But were they reasonable at all...?

"I know." He swallowed. "But... I don't think that will be possible."

Their eyes met again, and Y/N could not think about anything else other than how much she wanted to kiss him again, more confidently this time, to let herself notice the details the first kiss was too shocking to allow her to register... But she could not, just like him, as he almost had to use the Force itself to stop himself from leaning in again.

"I'm sensing Obi-Wan." Anakin sighed. "He's somewhere near. I'd better... I'd better go."

"Yeah..."

Neither of them wanted to part, but they knew that physical separation might have been the only answer to restrain their desires at that moment. They had to stop before they would do something they would regret.

The problem was, they did not regret that kiss.

Three long days passed without them seeing each other as Anakin was assigned some minor missions, but he didn't stop thinking about that kiss even for a second. Even Obi-Wan pointed out his Padawan seemed a bit less focused, but Skywalker quickly dismissed it. However, the tension between him and Y/N was more present than ever, even stronger than before that kiss.  Now that he knew she was just as drawn to him as he was to her, keeping himself in check was agonising.

Y/N could barely handle her thoughts, too. That's what led her to the Jedi baths that one evening; she knew no one usually used them very late, and now, more than ever, she needed the hot water to relax her muscles - and maybe her emotions, too.

The baths were completely quiet that night. The air was humid and warm from the hot water kept in big pools, making it a bit harder to breathe once you entered. Spacious room dimly lit by a small light source in the corner enveloped anyone there in a calm, cosy atmosphere. 

Y/N stood at the edge of the pool in just her robe and untied it, then let it fall to the floor. Completely naked, she slowly submerged herself in the hot water, allowing it to hug her muscle by muscle, until it covered her up to her collarbone. She sat there and took a deep breath, allowing the sweetly-scented foam to stick to her skin.

Every time she closed her eyes, her mind took her back to that moment. The kiss that made her body feel as though it was on fire, the kiss that she craved to experience at least once more. Would that be such a sin? To enjoy this rush of dopamine once more, the intimacy the Jedi were deprived of?

The silence of the room was only disturbed by the soft splashing sound every time she moved. She kept her eyes closed, breathing in and out steadily as if meditating, trying to trust the Force and wherever it was leading her thoughts to.

Her eyes flew open when both the Force, and the sound of the door opening alerted her that someone was near. She looked towards the entrance, and her eyes quickly confirmed what her heart already knew; it was him.

"Anakin?" she said in surprise, her voice echoing against the walls.

Seeing him now made her whole body tense despite the relaxing water. Thoughts of how to react or what to say flooded her mind completely; how were they supposed to act now? Like nothing happened?

"Hey, Y/N," he replied in such a tone that made her decide to play it cool. Act like nothing happened. Forget. That was what they were supposed to do, right?

She watched him come out of the darkness as he approached her; he was wearing just a robe and had a towel on his shoulder. He was there just for a bath, she told herself, although her heart made her think otherwise. She decided to do what she was best at - tease him, just to release a little of that tension.

"How come the baths are always empty... And when I decided to come, you're suddenly here too?" 

Anakin chuckled softly. "I'd say the Force led me here."

He kept his eyes on her. They wandered to her shoulders and collarbone, his mind racing as it imagined what could be hidden below, underneath the foam. To say she looked beautiful to him was, no doubt, an understatement. Anakin wondered how much longer he could keep himself in control of his emotions, getting hot under the collar.

"How fortunate you can always say it's the Force," she teased, surprised how easy it was to do that despite the elephant in the room.

"I am a lucky guy, huh?" He smirked, then walked to the side of the pool, keeping a small distance from where she was sitting. "So... Can I join you?

Y/N swallowed hard. She did not know how to imagine both of them being in one room, so close to each other, naked. At the same time, she knew she would be a fool to say no. He was absolutely irresistible, especially while smiling like he was at the moment.

"Be my guest."

He gave her another small smile, then put his towel on the floor. His hands were just about to start untying his robe when his eyes locked with hers.

"I have to take my clothes off."

She chuckled. "Yes, that's how bathing usually works."

Anakin shook his head in disbelief. "When did you get this feisty, love?"

A shiver went through her entire body when he called her that, but she didn't let him see it. Instead, she bit back again.

"I was always like that, Ani. Maybe you need to be a bit more perceptive."

"Oh, I will be perceptive, trust me."

She cleared her throat as he noticed Anakin's eyes wander to where her chest was raising under the foam as her breathing became heavier.

"I will look away." She turned her head to the side. "You can take off that robe comfortably."

Anakin did not comment on that, for he could not find a good answer. On one hand, he was thankful, on the other... Would he really mind if she looked?

"Right then..."

Anakin began slowly untying his robe as Y/N did everything in her mind not to look. But with the corner of her eye, she could see just a bit of that toned, perfect body she had dreamed of; Maker, if she could just...

Completely naked, he stood there for a moment, as if pondering what to do now. Eventually, he slowly lowered himself into the bath, a safe distance of around a meter away from her.

She looked up finally. The foam was covering him up to his nipples, but it still left uncovered enough of his body for her to stare at. She tried to remain composure, but with every passing moment it was beginning harder and harder to ignore how attractive she found him.

Y/N wondered what to say in order to make the situation a bit less tense. She coughed loudly, then took a deep breath.

"Well... How did your latest missions go? Anything out of the ordinary?"

Anakin seemed surprised by the question, but he quickly recovered.

"No, just some usual escorts. Everything went smoothly."

"Good to hear."

The conversation was extremely awkward, and Anakin had enough of it even after just these few words. He decided to cut to the chase.

"And I've been thinking about you all the time."

She took a deep breath. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, as she had been nothing but thinking about him, too, yet him saying it out loud made her heart race, just as much as his earlier appearance.

"Y/N, tell me... Do you regret what happened?" 

Anakin asked directly.

"Of course I don't," she blurted out, "I... I only wish we could do it again. But I know we shouldn't."

"We shouldn't, yes, I know that, too." He swallowed, then looked her up and down. "But I can't control myself right now, Y/N. Not when we're here like this and you..." His eyes focused on where the foam began covering her body as he let his imagination run wild again. "You look breathtaking."

"Anakin..."

She only heard water splashing as he moved closer to her. They both almost shivered as their naked arms touched, and so did more of their bodies underneath the water. It could be lethal, that touch, more dangerous than any weapon in this galaxy.

"Why can't we do it again? Would this be such a crime?"

He leaned in just a little, yet enough to make her feel hotter, and it had nothing to do with the water. Force was whirling around them again, seemingly pushing them towards each other, yet Y/N tried to resist... One last time.

"Our Masters would not like that," she whispered in such a tone that let Anakin know she already made up her mind... To his benefit.

"Yes, they wouldn't," he said quietly, cupping her face with his hand and caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. He looked into her eyes, both affection and desire glowing in his own ss he asked:

"But would you?"

Only a soft sigh managed to escape her lips before Anakin captured them with his own. There it was, the dream, the trance, the absolute bliss of kissing him again. It could have been real fire flowing through her veins when her hands wandered to his hair, tugging on it desperately in an attempt to bring him even closer. She could die right there and then, fulfilled.

The baths, the temple, the whole galaxy seemed to be fading away as Anakin's other hand landed on her back. His fingers caressed her bare skin with undeniable need, exploring mindlessly as his head was clouded with the taste of her lips, soft, sweet, irresistible.

The idea of getting caught didn't even cross Anakin's mind at that moment. His focus was on her and only on her, on that body he was ready to worship.

They pulled away after what seemed like an eternity, but still stayed close, their foreheads leaning against each other.

"I want you," Anakin whispered, his hand moving from her cheek to her nape almost possesively. "I want you so bad, Y/N."

These words were enough to make her forget any doubts she might have had about this, as they could have got caught... But did anything really matter then? Anything other than Anakin, his smile, his large hands on her body, his eyes piercing through her?

"I want you too," she whispered back, and soon found herself pressed against the edge of the pool as Anakin's lips met with hers again.

He kept one hand on her nape as he allowed the other to wander, giving her goosebumps as he went. Eventually, he began massaging her thigh underneath the water, slowly but surely moving towards her abdomen.

Lips were not enough for Anakin at that moment. Drunk on desire, he began planting kissing down her jaw, then slowly reached her neck, allowing himself to taste it in ways more than one. The moment he decided to go for just a soft bite, the quietest of moans escaped her lips, echoing loudly in the empty room along with the splashing of the water.

"I could listen to this all night," he whispered, hot breath blowing against her neck and adding to the sensation.

"What if someone hears?" she said in a rush as she caught herself willing to give him many more sounds to enjoy.

"Then they will meet with my lightsaber..." he replied as his kiss became more and more feverish, and she could not even find the strength to argue, dizzy with the pleasure all of this was bringing her.

Slowly but surely, with endless enthusiasm, he began planting passionate kisses down her collarbone. He wanted to go even further, but the foam stopped him.

"Can I?" he rasped out, breathless from the constant kisses.

"Yes," she panted.

Having receieved the permission, Anakin grabbed her by the hips and lifted her slightly in the pool, uncovering her breasts. He took a moment to take in the sight, one that made his heart pound even faster. She expected to feel shy, but for some reason, she did not - she wanted him to see all of this.

He began kissing her further down, his hands on her hips to keep her steady. But he couldn't forget about the view, about the curves he had just uncovered, and let himself lose control. His mouth found one of her nipples, and he licked it just barely in order to see her reaction.

She gasped, a shiver going down her spine. "Anakin..."

"You liked it?"

"Yes..."

"Then I won't stop." He smirked, as he gave her one more lick, one that made him feel drunk. "You're addicting."

His mouth took care of her first nipple, then the other, pulling a few moans out of her as they hardened. She put her hands on the edge of the bath to keep herself steady as his lips and tongue worked wonders on the sensitive body. She craved him, all of him, and just his mouth was beginning to not be enough.

He felt her hips buckle under his hands, so he took that as a clear sign she wanted to go further just as much as he did. He stopped kissing her, gave one last glance at the closed door that could be opened at any time, then decided to fuck it again.

"I want to take you, right now," he whispered into her ear, sending fire through her body.

"Then do that," she rasped in response, almost 

taking him by surprise at how eager she sounded.

He sat down, then pulled her onto his lap in the water, the splashing sounds mixing with their panting. She ran her hands down his chest, slowly, as if trying to remember each and every muscle she only could look at before...

And then her hands reached between his legs, this time getting a groan out of him. Their eyes locked and they kissed hungrily once more, before Y/N positioned herself... And slowly took him in, all of him, her clit throbbing.

The new sensation made them both pull away to gasp for air. She needed a moment to adjust to his size, then steadied herself by grabbing his shoulders.

"They would kill us for this," she breathed out eventually, thinking how there was no escape now... No turning back.

"But what a sweet way to go," he whispered, his smirk sending a wave of excitement through her. She was ready for whatever he had in store for her.

His hands were back on her hips, digging into them to keep her in place.

"I've never wanted anything else more," he said huskily, leaning his forehead against hers. "You... I want you, Y/N."

"It doesn't get any closer to having me, Anakin," she replied quickly, giving him a clear sign that now they could both move.

And so he did, slowly at first, before they both found their pace. Splashing of the water echoed against the room as they moved against each other. Anakin seemed to get off on the ability to fill her up completely, pushing his hips as far into her as he could. And it seemed to do the trick, pulling a moan after moan out of her while his mouth went back to her neck.

The amount of sensations was overwhelming for her; his hands strong on her hips, his teeth just barely grazing the tender skin on her neck, him dragging his cock with all the force he could master, all of their breathing and water splashing echoing in her head... And, as if that were not enough, there was the constant rush of adrenaline coming with the thought that they might get caught at any given moment. She knew he could send her over the edge easily...

"You feel... So good..." she moaned out, rocking her hips to meet his. She threw her head back, allowing him more access to her neck as he continued the absolute mania of licking, sucking and biting.

Suddenly, she heard him let out a loud groan, the grip on her hips loosening when he moved them down to grab her butt. 

"I'm..." was the only thing he managed to get out before two powerful pumps that felt like tearing her apart, and soon, he filled her to the brim, breathing heavily in pleasure.

Anakin did not even cool down before his hand wandered under the water, straight to her clit, and he began rubbing it quickly just to bring her to the edge that much faster. A gasp, a moan, and a few rocks later her nails left trails of red on his back when her walls clenched around his cock.

She cried out in pleasure as the orgasm rocked through her, allowing her to experience emotions she never even thought possible. They both stopped moving, and she fell onto his shoulder, trying to catch a breath while the last moments of bliss faded away.

How could feeling so good be such a sin...?

"Well, now... Now I'm definitely not forgetting about this," Anakin admitted, planting the softest of smooches on her head, so different from the hungry kisses that now marked her body. "But I'm afraid Obi-Wan might sense my thoughts about this from a mile away."

She laughed to herself, then raised her head to give him one last longing kiss on the lips.

"Well, how did you say it... What a sweet way to go."

[finelinevogue]

life goes on

summary - just a tiny blurb of post tour engagement talk

a/n : this contains a very brief mention of cancer, so be aware of that xx

word count : ~1k

pairing : boyfriend!harry x reader

The sun was setting just down past the mountains.

It had been a busy day and everyone was exhausted. You had all gone on a couple of yachts out to sea to dolphin watch and then come back and swam in the sea onshore.

After the end of tour, Harry had invited all of his family out to spend a month together in his gorgeous Italian house in the countryside. It was perfect for everyone, because it had endless garden land, a hot tub and a large swimming pool. It was a great house for the kids.

Harry’s family’s children were hear, and could be currently heard running around the garden with Nerf guns Uncle Harry had bought them to play with.

Currently, everyone was sat outside on the large patio area. There were bean bags, L-shaped sofas and other various comfortable chairs for people to sit on and none were spare.

“H?” Gemma asked, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Toilet I think.” Harry answered.

“When are you and Y/N getting married then, H?” Harry’s uncle, Dave, asked.

Harry laughed in shock and a few people cheered to that idea.

A lot of people were nursing beers and a few others with various cocktails they’d made for themselves. You had helped Harry set up a help-yourself bar for everyone to make whatever they wanted.

Harry himself had a Corona in hand, with a lime in the top because apparently that’s the best way you take it.

“Oh, let them be!” Anne shushed her brother up. “They’re still in their honeymoon phase.”

Anne watched as her son got all shy, blushing as he thought about how in love he was with you. Anne smiled, knowing her boy would always be happy with you by his side.

“They’ve been in that phase for six years now. The poor girl will run if he doesn’t ask soon.” Dave piped up again.

“Y/N can ask me too, y’know.” Harry suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“We all know you’re too romantic to let Y/N do that.” Someone else piped up, to which they all agreed.

“Heyy!” Harry protested, but deep down he knew they were right.

Harry had always wanted to get to ask you the big question. Being engaged and looking forward to his own wedding has been something he has looked forward to, ever since watching his first romcom.

Harry won’t settle for giving you anything less than the perfect proposal.

“I do want to be alive to see you get married, love.” Harry’s nan, Marge, chimed in, making everyone laugh.

“You will be, nan. I promise.” Harry held up his beer in promise to his nan. “And anyways, why aren’t you all nagging at Gem - whom is also still not married.”

Harry knew exactly why.

“Don’t believe in marriage, H.” Gem said. “Plus Michal says it’s too difficult choosing a ring.”

“That is true.” Michal nodded and agreed, making Gemma laugh and cuddle closer into his side on the sofa.

Harry looked at them and then towards the house, missing you after only two minutes. He wondered where you were.

“Have you gone ring shopping yet, H?” One of Harry’s aunts, Linda, asked.

“Yes.” Harry shot his head back around to face the conversation.

“Is it going to break the bank?” Dave asked.

“Nothing could dent that boys bank, Dave.” Linda laughed.

Harry smiled along, knowing the ring safely tucked away in his suitcase was just what you had asked for. It had been a reasonable price and it’s beauty outshone everything else.

“Y/N trusts me to pick out the right ring.”

“Good lad.” Dave nodded onto Harry.

“Excuse me a minute.”

Harry put his beer down on the floor and left his family to go in search of you.

He wandered into the house and because it was very open, he was able to tell you weren’t downstairs. He shouted your name up the stairs, but no one responded.

“Babe?” He called again, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

He was getting worried now and ran up the stairs two at a time. He wandered down the hall and straight into your shared bedroom.

No one was on the bed and no one was in the bathroom.

“Y/N?” Harry shouted again, a little more sternly this time. “Where the fuck is—”

He looked in and out of all bedrooms upstairs and the bathrooms too, but no sign of you.

As Harry rushed back down the stairs and opened the front door. He was ready to shout your name again when he saw you sitting the hammock by the front garden gate alone.

He closes the front door and furrowed his eyebrows as he walked quickly over to you.

“Baby? Where have you been?” He asked, dodging in between the cars as made his way to you.

You looked up at him and smiled, but it was one that did not reach your eyes.

Harry watched as you brought a small tissue up to your noses and wipe underneath. He put together, as he moved closer towards you, that you had been crying.

“Baby…” Harry said softly, coming down to crouch in front of you.

You swallowed a lump in the back of your throat and rolled your eyes at your own emotions. Harry was nothing but patient with you, waiting for you to gather up whatever thoughts you wanted to say.

Harry stayed crouched down in front of you, hands clasping yours to stop you from picking away at the skin by your nails - a nasty habit he was constantly telling you off for.

“It’s my mum. She’s back in hospital.” You sadly smiles, watching Harry’s face drop too.

Harry let out a tut and a heavy sigh, sagging his head in sadness.

“Cancer came back. She’s been in for a month and has only just told me.” Your words started to come out in splutters towards the end of your sentence as you began to cry again. “Fuck, m’sorry.”

Harry popped his head at your apology. “No, don’t you start apologising for things that don’t need an apology. Don’t care that this is celebrating post tour. All I care about is you and seeing that smile on your face. If you haven’t got a smile today, that’s okay but we’ll work together to put one back there again.”

You nodded your head in understanding.

Harry moved to sit next to you, laying you both down on the hammock. Harry sat so his feet still touched the floor, but you moved so your whole body was on the hammock and you could tuck yourself into his side. Harry rocked the two of you slowly and rubbed his hand up and down your back, whilst you closed your eyes and listened to the sound of Harry’s heartbeat.

“We can go see her when we’re back, can’t we?” You asked.

“Of course. Why do y’ask?”

“Just checking, in case you had music plans or anything.”

“Baby. You know I’m yours now for the foreseeable future.”

“I know.”

“We can go see her every day if you want.” Harry suggested, “And also. I don’t care what you say, I’m paying for any extra treatment and care to make sure she’s as comfortable as she can be.”

“Ha—”

“No I’m not arguing with you on this, love.”

“But…”

“Yeah, your butt is lovely, I know.” You could hear his smirk as he patted your ass lightly with his hand.

That put a little smile on your face anyways.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

“It’ll be your bank account someday soon too.”

And you smiled again, knowing the prospect of an engagement was soon approaching.

[wlntrsldler]

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat | luke castellan

based on this post in luke's pov.

warnings: loser!luke a little bit, percabeth crumbs and teasing from them, swear words, luke being jealous

i. i used to call you my best friend, way back before you were my everything.

"beth, you need to drop it," luke groaned, toying with the armor on his body. the young girl had been stuck on this conversation for hours now. ever since luke showed up to the athena cabin to talk strategy (there was no strategy talk, it was a ploy to get luke alone so she could knock some sense into him), annabeth had been going on and on about you and luke and your relationship.

"i'm just saying, you need to make a move."

"you have been saying that," luke checked the watch around his wrist. he tapped on the glass, "for about an hour and seventeen minutes."

"i'm sorry, but we're tired of watching you guys give googly eyes to each other and not do a thing about it," she replied, trying to keep up with luke as he walked towards the woods. luke was using his height and long legs to his advantage, hoping that she'd finally give up. (he should've known better; annabeth never actually gave up on anything.) "even percy asked me what was going on between you guys and he just got here like ten minutes ago."

"we do not give each other the googly eyes," annabeth shot him a pointed look. luke paused, pursing his lips, "fine, i give her googly eyes but she doesn't reciprocate."

"i knew you were dumb, but i didn't think you were a fucking idiot."

"hey, language," he tutted, crossing his arms over his chest. he can see the crowds of campers gearing up for capture the flag. "who taught you that word?"

she rolled her eyes, "sorry, but 'freaking' didn't have the same oomph."

"we're done with this conversation, 'kay?" luke walked away, shaking his head. under his breath, he mumbled, "fucking kids, man."

from behind him, he heard annabeth call out to him, "and you wonder where i learned the word!"

luke chuckled, twirling his sword expertly as he approached the group. he spotted you a few feet back talking to percy. the kid looked scared out of his mind, but after you reassured him that he probably wouldn't sustain any life-altering injuries, his demeanor relaxed.

luke walked over to you, immediately placing an arm around your waist. you knew that it was luke before you even got a look at him. you nudged yourself closer to him as you ended your conversation with percy.

"you'll be alright kid," you said, offering him a genuine smile. "i know clar has been giving you a hard time, but she's just like that. she'll warm up to you."

luke could tell that percy didn't really believe you based on the look on his face, but he also saw percy's eyes flicker to the lack of space between you and luke and knew that it was his time to go.

percy rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat, "alright, thanks, y/n. i appreciate it."

"no problem, percy. i'm sure beth wouldn't let anything happen to you anyway."

as percy walked away to find annabeth, you twisted your body to face luke. you beamed at him in a way that luke could only describe as cute. whenever you talked to him, the crinkles by your eyes appeared and your cheeks pushed up on your face, a slight tint of pink dusted over them.

"hi, luke," you greeted, "ready to win?"

"yes, ma'am," he mirrored your smile. he adjusted the strap on your armor, lightly grazing his fingers over your exposed collarbone. "you gonna show off the skills i taught you?"

"of course," you paused, "i might even be better than you now. maybe i can teach you some things."

he softly pinched your hip, making you squeal. he laughed at your reaction. "don't get cocky, dove."

"i'm just saying," you slowly peeled yourself away from him, but held his hands in yours as you moved backward. "one day the student becomes the teacher, castellan."

"that day is not today, but i'm loving this confidence."

you sent him a wink before joining your siblings. luke felt his knees buckle at the simple gesture. his heart was hammering in his chest and he was half-sure that the people around him could hear his heart thumping against the armor, like a drumbeat. he was glad that his helmet was hiding his face because annabeth and percy were now looking at him, both of their hands in a "thumbs up" gesture in the air.

ii. and it may not mean much but your plates are in his sink and your sweater's on his bed.

your team won (of course you did), but the victory came second to the claiming of percy. percy didn't make it to dinner, no doubt stuck talking to chiron and mr. d about what it all meant, but he was back in time for the celebratory bonfire.

percy found annabeth and luke grabbing some cookies on the snack table when he finally gave up trying to understand the prophecy for the night. luke threw an arm over his shoulder, "forbidden child, how you holding up?"

"i don't really want to talk about it. i honestly don't even know how i feel right now."

"that's fair," annabeth said, outstretching her hand to reveal a handful of oreo cookies. "want some?"

"thanks," percy took a cookie, his eyes scanning the bonfire for any other familiar (and kind) faces. his eyes landed on you. "i do want to talk about that, though."

luke and annabeth's eyes followed percy's to find you talking to an ares kid. you were sitting far from the fire (luke knew you hated how the smell of smoke lingered on your clothes.) luke's eyes narrowed, head tilting in question because he'd never really paid attention to the kid before. james? jackson? j-something? he was racking his brain trying to remember the kid's name.

"they look cozy," annabeth stated through a mouthful of oreos. "he's cute."

"no he's not," luke argued, looking at his sister in disbelief. "he's like okay looking, i guess, but he's nothing like special. i don't know. do you think he's cute percy?"

"dude, you have issues."

whether luke chose to ignore percy's comment or genuinely didn't hear him, didn't matter, because luke was already riled up. he shouldn't go over there, right? you were just talking to the kid. gods, he really should know his name. "plus, he's an ares kid. he's like the enemy. y/n wouldn't do that."

the two kids shared a look, trying to hold in their laughter. luke was too preoccupied with looking at you to notice them anyway. his eyes were on you like a hawk. he watched as you moved over on the log you were sitting on to make room for him. luke's eyes widened when you locked eyes with him. you smiled at him, offering a little wave, before returning to your conversation.

"did she really just do that?"

"let someone sit next to her...?" annabeth asked, dusting her hands on her pants to rid of the crumbs. "yeah, it is allowed."

luke chewed on his bottom lip, "i don't like the look of this."

percy rolled his eyes, voiced laced with sarcasm. "really? what a surprise."

iii. my baby, spare me all the rest. please just tell me that nobody else touches you like i do.

luke was going crazy. he could count on one hand the amount of interactions he's had with you over the last two weeks. at first, he tried to tell himself that you were just busy. you had a lot of things to do, but then he started noticing that you didn't seem busy when jake asked to hang out. (luke scoffed when he found out the boy's name. of course, his name was jake. typical.)

it felt like luke was getting stabbed in the heart every time he saw you walking around with jake, his arm thrown over your shoulder while you laughed at his (probably unfunny) jokes. you called off your training sessions with him to go practice your archery with jake (he wasn't even that good) his usual seat next to you during meals were suddenly occupied by the ares boy. he even saw him walk you back to your cabin one night and he wrapped his arms around you in a hug like he wasn't going to see you the next day.

luke had grown grumpy and everyone noticed it, but nobody was willing to ask him why you and him stopped being attached to the hip all of a sudden. nobody was brave enough to.

the final nail to the coffin was when he wandered into the dining hall, making his way over to chris (because that's where he sat now) and he saw you in an unfamiliar hoodie. plastered over your chest was the insignia for the ares cabin.

enough was enough.

luke stood outside your cabin while everyone else was giving their offerings to the gods. he was trying to figure out what to say to you but his brain was going a million miles an hour. all the words blurred together into a gigantic mess. he was never good with words or explaining himself when it came to you. he never really had to tell you anything before, you always just knew.

sighing, luke mustered up the courage to knock on your door with his head hanging low. when you opened the door, luke could've died in embarrassment because he just started talking, like all of the lines he prepared just spilled out of his mouth.

"please dump him," luke pushed past you to pace around the floor of your cabin. "i don't know how serious your relationship is with him but i am begging you to dump him. you belong with me. i miss you and i haven't seen you really in weeks and it's killing me, dove. i don't know what to do because you keep canceling our plans to hang out with him and i feel like i'm losing you. and-and you're wearing his clothes now? if you were cold or something, you know you could always wear mine! i literally have a drawer under my bed of things that are reserved for you. i sprayed my cologne on them and everything because i know you like it, but you went to him? i just-"

luke stopped pacing and finally looked at you. you were hiding your giggles behind your fist. luke furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before his eyes trailed down your body. oh.

you were wearing his shirt. you walked over to him, reaching up to grab his face, "are you done?"

he was calmer now, "please dump him."

"i can't do that, luke."

"why not?"

you laughed at his whiny voice, "i can't dump him because i'm not dating him."

luke blinked, "you're not?"

"no," your rubbed his face with the pad of your thumb, "we're just friends. he's actually been helping me get over my crush on you."

luke's head was spinning. he definitely read the situation so wrong. "your what?"

"oh, castellan, please," you were blushing now. "it started out with jake wanting to ask me out but i told him about my crush on you and how i felt like nothing would ever happen between me and you. he suggested that maybe i should distance myself from you, at least until my crush went away, but the longer i was away from you, the clearer it became. i'm not getting over you any time soon."

"please don't ever get over me."

"you're a dork," you teased, but you smiled at him again. that special smile you reserved for him. "i can't believe you never noticed i liked you."

"i can't believe you didn't notice i liked you."

"will you shut up and kiss me, please?"

you didn't need to tell him twice. "yes, ma'am."

[7s3ven]

ATHENA'S GIRL. luke (pjo) - pt. 1

trailer > part 1 > part 2 > part 3

( masterlist )

IN WHICH... Luke's second quest isn't exactly a heroic one but he doesn't have the power to reject it. Who knew it would lead him to a prestigious high school where his hardest mission would be trying to befriend a snappy demigod.

"Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you. I see you changing from how I've designed you. Have you forgotten your purpose?"

Warnings : modern au but camp still exists, Luke doesn’t betray

A/N : I signed up with a blogging side job and they asked if I had any previous blog experience. I said no because I wasn’t about to admit that I run a one shot blog acc on Tumblr 😭

—

“What is wrong with you?!"

Heads turned to look at the H/C-haired girl who had shouted in a voice too loud to be inside a library. She was standing up, having shoved her chair back moments before. She clenched her hands into fists.

"Do you find joy in torturing me with your obnoxious presence? Is that it?!" She exclaimed at the brunette standing in front of her. She angrily grabbed her pile of books, messily shoving them into her bag. "Honestly!" She let out another groan as she loudly stormed past the doors.

"Well, that went smoothly, Luke." Chris, who had been watching the scene behind an upside down book, said.

The brunette boy with curled hair sighed, glaring at his friend, Chris. "I'm only trying to protect her. I don't know why she's so bitchy." Luke scowled. "I don't get why our quest was to protect some girl."

"Chiron said she doesn't have a satyr guide." Chris retorted, "That's why we're here."

Luke scoffed. "I can't even peacefully talk to her, let alone peacefully talk to her. She'll never come with us to camp." He swiftly threw his hands up in surrender.

"It's either that or the monsters. And if she doesn’t come with us, we fail.”

Luke stiffened at the mention of failing a quest. He knew all too well what that felt like. The jagged scar gruesomely painted across his face was proof of that.

“Just… befriend her.” Chris said as Luke stood up, ready to walk out of the library.

“Easier said than done. She hates me, Chris. And she hates you for being friends with me. So if neither of us can befriend her, how are you going to tell her about camp? It’s not like her dad will. He abandoned her for gods sake!”

Y/N, to put it simply, was an orphan. Her dad left her on the steps of a random house after her mother, whichever god she was, disappeared.

“Okay. Uh, what do we have in common with her then? And why does she hate you? I never understood that.” Chris questioned, desperate to think of ways to connect with Y/N before the monsters sensed her.

“I… made her get an F on her science project because I accidentally ruined it.” Luke sheepishly smiled.

“… You deserve all the insults from her then. But to answer my own question, we’re all demigods. That’s the most we have in common. I told you we should’ve taken Annabeth.” Chris uttered, gesturing to their surroundings.

“She’s a young kid." Luke retorted, "This is a high school. People will know something is wrong.”

“Or they’ll think she’s a child genius which, for the record, she is.”

Luke wasn’t sure how to feel about this quest. His first one had ended in absolute disaster so he was lucky to even be chosen for a second. But was a fire-breathing dragon worse than a high school girl who, if she needed to or even just felt like it, would stab you? Luke would take the dragon again because at least it didn’t spew out every insult known to man.

“I gotta get to this after school meeting.” Chris piped up, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “Some kids forced me to join. Find her and talk to her. Who knows, maybe you’ll get along. Eventually.”

Luke rolled his eyes as his friend jogged off to who knows where. Finding Y/N wouldn’t be hard. As creepy as it sounded, he had been watching Y/N for moments just like this.

He quietly whistled under his breath as he walked to the cafe across the road, immediately spotting Y/N in her usual seat beside the large window. She was, to no one’s surprise, reading a book.

Luke pushed open the door, the bell attached to it chiming softly. He made an instant beeline for Y/N. “Why so many books?” He blurted out, raising an eyebrow at the amount of novels strewn over the table.

Y/N lifted her head, frowning at the sight of him. “These are my cafe books.” She said, looking down at her book once more. Luke slid into the seat across from her.

“You need four cafe books? Why four?”

“Well, I need a novel and a biography book.”

“You’re reading Fyodor Dostoevsky as a novel? That’s your definition of light reading?” Luke picked up the book, almost laughing. “And some of it is in Russian. You know Russian?”

“Somewhat. I’m learning it so I can read Dostoevsky in the original.”

“And the Edgar Allen Poe?”

“Short stories. And Norman Mailer is a great essay writer so I wanted to check him out too.”

Luke huffed, “Jeez, writer. Reading Dostoevsky, learning Russian, reading all of these books. You’re crazy.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes as she stared at him with her heavy gaze. “Why do you call me that? Writer? Are you making fun of me?”

“Why would I need to do that? I call you writer because you want to be a journalist, right?” Luke leaned back in his seat, “I’ve read some of your essays, by the way. Don’t get mad at me. They were great. You really seemed to like the Russian revolution.”

“I’m more interested in the royal family, actually. Not so much in the Bolsheviks and all that politic stuff.” Y/N placed the book she was reading down, a truce sign in Luke’s eyes.

“Oh, she’s smart, pretty, and interested in the slaughter of a royal family. Are you perhaps training to become a serial killer? I hope I’m not your next target.” Luke teasingly grinned as a mischievous glint shone in his eyes.

“Castellan, I have a question.” Y/N sat up straighter, “How is it that you got into the school? Don’t get me wrong, you’re street smart but you aren’t… academically smart. Are your parents filthy rich?”

“My dad’s a deadbeat.”

“Did you cheat then? I won’t tell anyone. I’m only curious.”

“You wound me, writer. No, I didn’t cheat. Is it so hard to believe I passed the entrance exam?”

“Yes.” Y/N said without hesitation.

Luke stared at her with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Ouch. Now you’ve added salt to the wound.”

Luke had already acknowledged that he wasn’t gifted in the academic department. But there was more to life than writing articles and scribbling down overly complicated math equations.

“Wait a minute,” Luke sat up. How was it that Y/N could draft a perfectly constructed essay when she had dyslexia? “Don’t you have a reading problem? Dyslexia? Are you sure you didn’t cheat?” He meant the last bit as a joke but he instantly knew he made a mistake when Y/N’s eyes darkened.

“I have no need to.” She jeered, grabbing her cafe books. And just like that, their little moment of peace was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Never accuse me of cheating again. You got that, Castellan?” She harshly poked his shoulder as she walked past him.

“Hey, you forgot your Dostoevsky- and she’s not even listening to me. Great. Okay.” Luke sighed as he grabbed the book, observing it. It seemed well-loved because the novel was almost falling apart and its delicate pages were stained brown with coffee and tea.

Luke cracked open the book, raising his eyebrows at the sight of highlighted words, pen marks, and sticky notes inside. “She likes annotating.” He muttered to himself, running his hands over the pages.

The writing stopped near the end of the book and Luke realized it was because she had yet to finish it. An idea burst into his head and he quickly exited the cafe, clutching the book close to his chest. His usual routine would be to wait for Chris outside but he strolled back into the library, eyes landing in a group of giggling girls.

“Hey, ladies.” Luke boyishly smirked at them, which almost caused them to melt. “Do you have any sticky notes and pens I could borrow?”

That’s how he ended up with a pile of sticky notes and a multitude of pens at his disposal. Luke couldn’t read that well due to his godly side but he sure tried. Luke had heard about how a book girl’s love language was someone else annotating a book for her. In this case, this was Luke waving the white flag for good.

“Yo, Luke, you ready to head off?” Chris returned an hour later, just as Luke was finished scribbling on sticky notes and placing them carefully on the crumbled pages. Chris arched an eyebrow. “You can’t read.” He stated.

Luke rolled his eyes. “I know but this is me trying to befriend her. Trust me, it’ll work.” The brunette led his friend to Y/N’s locker, easily picking it open with a bobby pin he found on the floor. “Say hello to friendly Y/N.” Luke grinned as he placed the novel on the top shelf and closed the door.

“If this works, I’ll give you my dessert for a week.” Chris piped up

Luke chuckled, putting all his faith into his plan. “It’ll work. And deal.”

•

Chris and Luke watched Y/N like hawks as she opened her locker, letting out a small yawn as she did so. She spotted the book immediately. As she flipped through the pages, something unexpected happened that left Chris gaping.

She smiled. Her pink-tinted lips curved into a bubbly smile as she read something and she even let out a quiet laugh. As she turned her head, her gaze locked with Luke’s. She sent him a nod of acknowledgment before leaving to get to class.

“Looks like I’ll be having extra dessert.” Luke cockily uttered, teasing his friend.

“I can’t believe it actually worked.” Chris clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Better luck next time, buddy.” Luke tilted his head back as he laughed. “Get to class. We can’t blow our cover.”

Luke’s first class was with Y/N. Actually, all of his classes were. And that was on purpose. He had to keep a close eye on her in case anything happened. Nothing ever did, which was unusual. Monsters sensed demigods as soon as they turned twelve but Y/N was Luke’s age and still hadn’t run into one. Luke found it strange.

He sat down in his chosen seat and turned his head, surprised to see Y/N sitting beside him. “Impotence means the inability to do something effectively.” She spoke, looking at him. Luke was at a loss for words as his lips parted.

“What?” He stupidly questioned.

“‘The fear of appearance is the first symptom of impotence’. You put a question mark next to impotence.”

“Oh.” Luke could recall doing that. “I guess I did.”

“You don’t write very well.” Y/N said. “At some point, you started writing in Greek. You know Greek?”

“To an extent.”

Y/N quietly hummed. “The ability to go from English to Greek is somewhat impressive. Your Greek is better.”

Luke almost smiled at the backhanded compliment. “You know, writer, I always took you as a Jane Austin girl. Pride and Prejudice and what not. How come you’re reading Crime and Punishment instead?”

Y/N shrugged. “I want to know more about Russian culture.” She simply said, opening her science textbook. Luke stared at her.

“You want to know more about Russia? I’ll show you. Come on.” Luke tugged Y/N out of her seat much to her surprise. She gasped.

“But class.” She said, but Luke ignored her.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll love it.” Luke reassured her as he pulled her out of the room.

“I’m not sure I will.” Y/N groaned, trying to dig her heels into the ground to slow Luke down. “We really should go back to class.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in worry while Luke clicked his tongue.

“No. We don’t.”

Before Y/N knew it, she was outside the school building and walking down the road behind Luke. “Where are we going?” She asked, receiving no reply.

“Wait here.” Luke said, pausing in front of a large wired fence.

“Are you sure you aren’t the serial killer here?” Y/N muttered, almost scoffing. Luke jumped, easily grabbing onto the fence and climbing up. “You look like a monkey!” Y/N exclaimed. Luke quietly chuckled, reaching the top.

“You’re funny, writer- Woah!”

Y/N gaped as Luke tumbled down, harshly hitting the ground. “Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes wide. Luke groaned as he stood up, clutching his shoulder.

“I’m fine. I just have to rearrange my shoulder real quick.” He said, grunting. Y/N watched in horror as Luke grabbed his own shoulder, readjusting it with a terrifying crack.

“That’s not normal.” Y/N said, cringing. “Your shoulder should not be doing that… oh, my gosh! You need to see a doctor soon. That crack was disgusting!” But Luke ignored her.

“You can climb, right?” Luke questioned.

“I am not climbing and falling like you.” Y/N sneered. She looked around, spotting a door. “I’m glad I’m not dumb like you.” She pushed the door open, mockingly staring at Luke. “Voila. No need to look like a monkey.”

“And there our truce goes, writer. I’m going to beat you up now.”

Y/N lightly laughed, rolling her eyes. “You can’t hit a lady.” She warned.

“Oh, you’re right. Damn me for being a gentleman. If only I was a girl. I could slam you.” Luke teasingly slung an arm around her shoulder as he led Y/N through the woods. “Chris and I found this place by accident. I thought you’d like it, especially after seeing your obsession with books. That’s not normal, by the way. It’s creepy. You treat books like your friends.”

“For your information, I have friends.” Y/N snapped.

“You have one friend. And she’s not even at the school.”

“So? Who cares. Besides, I talk to Sehee.”

“Sehee Kim hates you.”

“Yeah. But she’s toned down. We’re acquainted now.”

“Whatever you say, writer. Close your eyes.” Luke slapped a hand over her face, concealing her gaze. “Don’t peek. It’s a surprise.”

“If you plan on killing me, don’t eat me. I’m not into cannibalism.”

“You wrote an essay on all the media’s that portrayed cannibalism. The hills have eyes, that plane crash with the sports team. What else am I forgetting?”

“The Bean clan. Technically, that wasn’t a show or movie but the hills have eyes were inspired by it. At least, I like to think so.” Y/N paused, “Wait, you read the essay?”

“You’re a model student, writer. Of course I read your work. It took me a few days.” Luke grinned, though Y/N couldn’t see it. “Alright. You ready?” Luke rested his chin on Y/N’s shoulder as he lowered his hands, emitted a small gasp from Y/N.

“This place… what the…” She was speechless. In front of her was a beautiful, old library. Vibes of ivy wrapped around the shelves yet the books still looked functional. Albeit, a little old but they didn’t look like they’d turn to dust if she touched them.

“It’s an old library. Abandoned but still pretty. All of the books here are in Russian. You like it?”

“I love it… Castellan.” She gently smiled.

“I come here when I need time to think.” Luke sighed to himself, gesturing to a small corner where a blanket and a few pillows lay. “I can’t read in general but it’s comforting.”

“How’d you know I have dyslexia?” Y/N asked, arching an eyebrow.

Luke shrugged. “I had a feeling.”

“To answer the question from yesterday, yes. I do have dyslexia. But I envied children who could read so I got help. More like I begged the orphanage to get me help. I wanted to read and write so I did.”

Y/N ran a hand over the books, letting her fingers trace over the delicate golden details. Luke watched as she walked past the sturdy wooden shelves, a gleeful skip in her step.

“What’s your favourite book?” Luke asked as Y/N opened an aged book, staring at the words carefully printed in black ink.

“Oh. I actually have it with me.” Y/N began, digging around in her bag to pull out a small paperback. She showed it to Luke. “I want to die but I want to eat tteobokki.” She uttered. Luke stared at it, eyebrows lifted.

“You read… self-help books?”

“Well, it’s more like a biography or a memoir. It doubles as a self-help book. And yes. Is that a problem? It's an opportunity to learn how these type of books are written."

Luke shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I just wasn’t expecting it. I mean, why do you need help? You seem to have your life figured out. Studying, Harvard, journalism."

Y/N softly cleared her throat as she stared at him. “Castellan, I firmly believe that everybody needs help. Even just a little bit. And my life is literally falling apart if I’m not in school. My orphanage is crumbling to the ground and I’m probably going to be kicked out soon. On top of that, I think I’m going crazy.” Realising she was ranting too much, Y/N took a breath and stopped talking.

“We’re all crazy in a way, writer.”

“No. I’m actually crazy… Castellan, I see things… things normal people shouldn’t see. Creatures… weird things… things I can’t describe.” Y/N pulled at the ends of her hair. Luke was quick to grab her hands, stopping her.

“I understand, writer. Trust me. You may think I don’t, but I do.”

“You hallucinate too?”

“It’s not hallucinations. It’s real. I know I probably sound crazy. You see strange animals, right? Like, monsters?”

Y/N turned her head, staring at Luke with wide eyes. Y/N silently nodded. “How… how did you know?”

“I need you to listen to me, writer. And don’t call me insane or judge me or any other mean thing you like to do.” When Y/N still didn’t say anything, Luke continued. “How do I put this… You’re a demigod. I am too. Chris as well. Your mother is, uh, a goddess. You’re a half-blood. And eventually… monsters are going to chase after you.”

Y/N gawked at Luke for a few long minutes before she looked away. "You're crazy."

"I'm not crazy. I told you I'm not."

"Okay, not crazy. You're mad, out of your mind, deranged, demented. You're a lunatic, unstable, unbalanced. Non compos mentis!"

"Are you speaking in Latin right now?"

"We have to recite the school song on the spot. We get extra credits if we say it in Latin. You didn't know that?" Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're... not lying. Gods and goddesses actually exist... don't they?" Luke sighed, nodding his head.

"I'm sorry to put all of this on you now but we really have to go. It's unusual that the monsters haven't sensed you yet. We have to find Chris before"- Luke was cut off by a loud roar. Y/N gasped, clutching onto Luke.

"What was that?" She gasped.

Luke pulled Y/N up, holding her tight. "We have to go. Now. Come on." Y/N's hands shook as she tried to shove the old book back into its place. Luke grabbed it, cramming the book into her bag. "Just take it. Take the book!" Luke grabbed Y/N's wrist, pulling her out of the library.

"Whatever that thing was seemed close. We have to hurry." Luke and Y/N ran out of the forest and barged past the door to the metal fence. "Chris will meet us at the road. Come on!"

There was another roar and Y/N shrieked. A blast of flames engulfed the fence, burning away at it. "Oh, my gosh... what is that?! Is that a fucking dragon?!"

"So you can swear! I never expected that!" Luke exclaimed as he stood in front of Y/N, drawing a sword.

"You have a fucking sword too?! What the fuck!" Y/N screamed, "What is going on?!"

"Stop cussing! Y/N, I need you to listen to me. Run. Run as fast as you can and find Chris. Please." Luke pushed Y/N back.

"What? No! I am not leaving you with that... that beast! And I don’t really what to be alone too!” Y/N furrowed her brows but Luke was persistent.

“Go! Go!” He shouted. Y/N spun around, sprinting away. She heard Luke’s sword clash with the dragon’s hard scales and she looked over her shoulder.

“Find Chris!” Luke shouted again.

Y/N gasped as she burst through the vegetation, almost crashing into Chris. “Oh, my fucking god! Chris! Castellan- I mean Luke is fighting against a dragon! What do we do?!” Panic glazed over Chris’ eyes.

“Y/N, stay here. It’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon!” Chris ran off. Y/N shakily inhaled as she looked around. The road was barren and there wasn’t a car in sight.

“This is fine… totally, inexplicably fine.” Y/N muttered, thickly gulping. But her panic flared up again when she felt a presence behind her.

She shook as she turned around, her head slowly lifting to stare at the dragon. “… Oh, I’m fucked.” Y/N’s bag felt heavier than it did before. It slid off her arm, crashing to the ground. Y/N scrambled back as the dragon blew a mouthful of burning smoke through its sharp fangs.

“Nice boy… or girl. Or are you gender-neutral? It doesn’t matter.” Y/N nervously chuckled as she slowly kneeled down to search for something, anything, to defend herself. Instead of a sharp pen or maybe a heavy book, she pulled out a golden brass spear with electricity crackling through it.

“Oh… this works.”

The dragon growled as its beady eyes watched her trembling form. Y/N swung the spear at the dragon, managing to hit it with a lucky shot. The dragon roared, throwing its head back in pain. Y/N landed another blow and managed to dodge the beast’s claws.

“Man, am I glad I took those sports classes now!” Y/N shouted, ducking. She swung the blade of the spear ay the creature, slicing a scale off. Y/N yelped as blood oozed out. “Oh, that is revolting.” She wrinkled up her nose.

The dragon, seemingly very unhappy with Y/N’s wide use of vocabulary, grunted as it stalked towards Y/N with heavy steps. Y/N gulped. She gripped the spear tightly, trying to think of what to do. As the dragon neared, her survival instincts took over and before she knew it, she was hurling her weapon at the dragon’s chest. It groaned in pain as the tip impaled its flesh before disintegrating into a fury of golden specks.

Y/N panted as her spear clattered to the ground. “… I’m glad javelin was a requirement at school.” Luke and Chris arrived at the scene a moment too late, staring at the golden flecks in surprise.

“You… took down a dragon?” Chris asked in shock while Luke was silent as he subtly lifted a hand to touch the scar on his face.

“Yes. Now, can we get out of here before we get slaughtered like the family from the hills have eyes?! If I die, I can’t get into Harvard!” Y/N exclaimed, picking up her spear that had transformed back into the old book from the library.

“She’s right.” Finally, Luke spoke up. “We need to get moving. The stronger monsters have already sensed us. More will be coming.”

"Wait!" Y/N shouted, causing both of the boys to pause. "Oh, my gosh... What about Harvard?! I can't get into Harvard with all these monsters running after me!"

"You didn't tell her?" Chris asked, glancing at Luke.

Luke quickly shrugged in confusion. "I told her about camp! But I may have left out the part where she has to go if she doesn't want to be slaughtered..."

"What?! No, I'm not fit out for camp! I need to go to school and study so I can get into Harvard and study journalism so I can become like Christiane Amanpour!"

"We'll explain more at camp." Luke uttered, wrapping his hands around one of Y/N's arms while Chris did the same on the other side. The two boys dragged her away, ignoring how she kicked and screamed, mainly about Harvard and how her career was ruined now.

Eventually, she calmed now. The trio now calmly walked along the empty road with Y/N in the middle. “I mean, at least it can’t get worse than a dragon.” Y/N said in an effort to raise spirits.

Above, thunder rumbled as rain began to pour down. Y/N loudly clicked her tongue, “Never mind.” She grumbled. “But hey, can’t get worse”- Lightning crackled and hit a tree near Luke. He jumped as the leaves went up in flames, though they were quickly distinguished by the large droplets of rain. “Okay, but surely”- Luke cut Y/N off.

“Please… writer, stop talking. We’ll hide in that cave until the rain stops. It’s getting dark soon too. We officially leave tomorrow.” Luke uttered, pointing at a nearby hole in the rocks. Y/N jogged for cover while Luke and Chris took their time, not caring about the rain because they were already soaked to the bone.

“So, you call her writer? Cute.” Chris mockingly smirked as he knowingly winked.

“Yeah, so what? What do you call Clarisse? Oh, that’s right, you haven’t confessed yet. You have the right to judge me when you confess.” Luke walked away while Chris was left standing there, speechless.

“Touché.” Chris muttered under his breath.

•

Luke woke Y/N the moment the sun rose. She groaned as he shook her awake, sleepily rubbing her eyes. “What do you want?” She muttered, trying to kick him away.

“Time to get moving before any more dragons come.” Luke grinned as Y/N quickly sat up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, writer. Come on, we’ll get breakfast at the train station. It’s the fastest way to camp.”

It was a thirty minute walk to the nearest train station and in those thirty minutes, Luke would not stop talking. And Y/N thought her rambling was bad.

“Why do people like peanuts anyway? They taste so… nutty. I don’t like peanut butter. The look of it, the taste of it, the texture, the way it sticks to the roof of my mouth. Ugh! Gross.” Luke faked a small gag while Y/N slowly nodded.

“Do you usually talk this much?” She questioned, recalling the days where Luke hardly spoke up in class unless he was replying to a girl in love with him.

"No. Not unless I've got a pretty girl next to me who's too smart for her own good." Luke grinned while Y/N rolled her eyes at his pathetic flirting.

“Have you got money? Once we get to the station, I would suggest we buy tickets first. Food can wait. Besides, the train should have food too.” Y/N said, checking her watch. "When's the next train? We should try and catch the earliest one."

"Jeez, who made her in charge?" Luke whispered to Chris behind Y/N's back.

“What? You think you’d be in charge?”

“Well, this is my quest after all. Plus, I thought there’d be a voting. You know, a show of hands.”

Chris sent Luke a look. “Don’t be like Percy, man. She’s like our Annabeth. She’s obviously in charge. And I’m like, uh, Grover.”

“And let me guess,” Luke deadpanned, “I’m Percy.”

“Yeah. Always trying to change the system into a voting thing. Just let the pretty girl do the work and we won't get killed."

"I can hear you, by the way." Y/N butted in, staring at the two boys with an unimpressed look.

"That's the point." Luke replied.

"The train station is right over there. I'll buy us tickets." Y/N said, outstretching her hand.

"Huh? Why do you have to buy the tickets?"

"Because, genius, it's suspicious to see two guys with a girl. They’ll think you’re kidnapping me. Which, mind you, you technically are.” Y/N ran her hands through her messy hair to smoothen it down, “The faster we leave, the better.” She brushed the dirt off her skirt and adjusted her wrinkled blouse so she could fit in more with the crowd.

Luke begrudgingly handed over a part of the given money to Y/N. She smiled, which only fuelled his annoyance. “After we buy tickets, we can look for food if we have time.”

“Why can’t we split up?” Luke interrupted, earning an eye roll from Y/N. Chris silently watched as they bickered, not wanting to get involved. It was like they were in class again, always going back and forth until the teacher forced them to stop.

“Splitting up would be dangerous. We have to stay together. But when I buy the tickets, don’t follow me. Hang back.”

Luke had no choice but to agree with the plan.

“So,” Chris shuffled closer to Luke, “Still think we should have a voting system?”

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303 @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @luvvfromme @y0urm0m12

[katsu28]

through the lens

pairing: jamie tartt x reader 

summary: a richmond win, a trip to ola’s, and a camera is all it takes to find out how jamie tartt really feels about you

warnings: swearing ofc, reader is afc richmond's team photographer, 2.5k

a/n: humbly inviting begging anyone and everyone to drop ted lasso requests from this list or this one in my inbox <3 i write for jamie, roy, sam, dani, and isaac! now pls enjoy the result of my jamie tartt brainrot 

The atmosphere in the locker room was positively electric. 

AFC Richmond was fresh off their first win in a very long time, and everyone was beyond ecstatic, buzzing with residual adrenaline and pride on a game well played. All the players were in a huddle in the center of the room, jumping at each other with nothing but pure joy in their eyes. 

All you could do was try your best to capture the moment without getting in the way of the festivities, which you somehow managed by climbing up onto one of the benches in front of the lockers as you snapped picture after picture of the team getting their celebration on. Nobody really paid you any mind throughout, until you turned your camera on one Jamie Tartt, who was already looking right at you the second your viewfinder focused on him. 

He beamed, lifted his hand up in a small wave, and for a split second you thought he might’ve started to make his way over to you, but he was caught on the shoulder and redirected by an overjoyed Dani Rojas. You swiveled away from Jamie and towards where Colin and Isaac had started some sort of chant that you could barely make out over the ruckus. 

Focusing on them gave you the chance to let your heart rate settle back down after sharing that split second moment with Jamie. It was pathetic, really—pining over someone like him.

More of a silly little crush than anything, you knew it would never lead to anything because you’d rather a sinkhole open up in the middle of the road and swallow you up than tell Jamie that you liked him. But that didn’t stop your feelings for him from growing. He’d come back to AFC Richmond someone different—sweet and empathetic and the biggest supporter of his fellow Greyhounds—which made it that much harder to keep your crush under wraps. 

Hell, Keeley had figured it out within weeks of his return and accidentally let it slip to Roy. He’d very gruffly assured you that he hadn’t told a soul, but you were sure that the whole team knew about it by now. Everyone except Jamie. You’d never been so glad for his thick head. 

“Alright, I know y’all are excited about the win, I am too but listen up!” Coach Lasso’s voice cut through the commotion, hands waving over his head to get his players’ attention. At the drop of a hat, every single one of them fell quiet, eagerly awaiting what their beloved coach had to say. 

You were looking forward to it too, not only because a Lasso signature speech was always a great opportunity to get raw, unfiltered photos of the team, but because he always had something positive to say, no matter what the outcome on the pitch had been. The amount of love and care Ted Lasso had for his players was his strong suit, and it showed in everyone’s respect for him. 

“I’m real proud of what all y’all did out there on the pitch tonight. I know I say that after every match and I mean it every time, but this one is just a little bit sweeter. I appreciate every single one of you boys more than you could imagine,” He continued, looking to address each person. They looked like kids again, giddy with glee as they soaked in their coach’s praise. 

You took shot after shot of everyone in the moment, so enveloped in your craft that you didn’t notice someone had come to stand beside you until you let your camera hang. That was when you noticed Jamie, inching closer with an innocent look on his face until he saw you looking down at him. 

“Hiya,” He said, playfully nudging your leg with a cheeky smile. “Gettin’ a good view up there?” 

“Shouldn’t you be listening to your coach?” You shot back, fighting the urge to pick your camera back up and take a shot of his lopsided grin and stupidly endearing twinkle in his eye as he looked up at you. 

“Nothin’ I haven’t heard before.” Jamie shrugged, but he turned back around to look at Ted.

Even though he wasn’t paying attention to you, it was hard not to pay attention to him. That was a problem you’d increasingly been running into, not being able to focus when Jamie was around. You thought you’d had it under wraps, but it seemed like you’d developed a sixth sense for whenever he wandered into your vicinity. And lately, that sense had been pinging a lot more than usual. 

Maybe you were reading too much into things, but it seemed like Jamie had been popping up everywhere you went in the facility. Granted, it was mainly the pitch and the locker room hallways, but it flustered you all the same. One brief conversation about even something mundane like weekend plans or the weather paired with a smile and a cheeky wink before he disappeared around a corner and you were left wondering what you’d been doing in the first place. 

Ted was closing out his speech by the time you’d remembered you were actually supposed to be doing your job right now. You jerked out of your thoughts, snapping a few photos of the coaching staff before he finished up for the night. “Now go ahead and let loose, golden goose!” 

“I’m pretty sure it is geese, Coach,” Sam chimed in, giving him a good natured smile.

“You know what I mean! Go have some fun, celebrate, all that jazz. But not too much fun because I expect to be seein’ y’all bright and early tomorrow morning for practice. Remember, the early bird gets the worm! See, I know I did that one right.” With that, Ted waved the team off, retreating back into the coaches’ office with Coach Beard on his heels and leaving them with all their pent up energy. 

“Sam says we’re all going to Ola’s to celebrate!” Bumbercatch exclaimed, drawing a roar of approval from the rest of the team. 

“You comin’ with us?” Jamie asked you hopefully, tilting his head to the side a bit. Warmth bloomed on your cheeks at the prospect of him wanting you to tag along. “Catch the festivities, give the people what they want?” 

Oh. He was asking because you were their photographer. Not for the other foolishly hopeful reason you were thinking of. Of course. 

“Yeah, I’ll tag along. Gotta catch you boys in your natural habitat, don’t I?” 

Jamie’s mouth lifted into a cool smirk. “‘Course you do. You can catch a ride with me, if you want.” 

“Oh! Um, only if it’s not too much trouble.” You could only hope you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.

He nodded, extending a hand up towards you to help you down from your perch. You accepted it maybe a bit too eagerly, because your step down from the bench put you a little closer to Jamie than you’d planned, barely a few inches between the two of you. You swore you almost stopped breathing when his chest brushed against yours as he inhaled a sharp breath. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and it almost looked like he was as stunned as you. 

You both mumbled an apology, words tumbling over each other messily as you stepped apart. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Yours went straight for your camera, busying yourself with a few random buttons as if it were a defense mechanism. Neither of you could look at the other for a good while, not until you got into Jamie’s car and were on the way to Ola’s to meet the rest of the team. 

“So. What’d you think of the game?” 

“S’good! You did great, Jamie,” You exclaimed, excited now. It was true, Jamie had been on fire tonight with a goal and two assists. “All of you did great.” 

“Should I pose for ya next time? Give ya a proper action shot?“ He sounded only half joking. “M’trusting you to make me look good, y’know!” 

“Posing is overrated. I like the shots I get when you lot get out there on the pitch. They’re natural.” 

“But what if I make a stupid face when I pass the ball? Those can’t be any good.” 

“They’re called candids, and I happen to think they look better than your promotional shots.” 

“Bullshit! I looked sexy in those shots and you know it.” 

While he wasn’t wrong, you had a point to prove now. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three in your head before picking your camera back up, swiveling in your seat and snapping one, two, three pictures of him. 

Jamie’s brow furrowed at the shutter clicks, giving you a confused glance over in your direction. “Oi! What’s that for?”

“That’s a candid.” You said simply, ignoring your heart pounding a million miles a minute against your ribcage. You flicked through the photos, pleased to see that they’d come out just as you suspected—perfect. 

“Not even getting my good angle, some photographer you are,” He muttered, giving his head an overexaggerated shake. 

“All your angles are good, Jamie,” You scoffed. “And you don’t need me to make you look good, ‘cause you’re doing it just fine on your own.” You didn’t realize what you’d said until a beat later when he looked extremely delighted, but every part of what you said was true. 

Even caught off guard and driving, Jamie Tartt looked unfairly good. The lights off the dashboard washed over his handsome face in a warm light, making him look softer than the harsh lights of Nelson Road did. 

On the football pitch, he was tough and cocky, mouthing off to opposing team with the sole purpose of getting under their skin, and the lighting reflected that. He was Jamie Tartt, a striker with a right foot kissed by God, one of the greatest footballers in Richmond history. In this car, here with just the two of you, he was at ease. His guard was down, his facade gone. He was just Jamie Tartt, a boy from Manchester. That was the Jamie you’d grown some not-so-small feelings for. 

Ola’s was definitely quieter than any pub in Richmond would’ve been, though you suspected that the team rather enjoyed it this way. They loved and appreciated their fans, but it was nice to be surrounded by friends as opposed to being gawked at the whole night. Even so, someone had turned on music with a heavy beat that thumped through the restaurant and everyone was having a good time. 

It was the perfect opportunity to grab a few more quick shots of the team and you took it gratefully, milling around the place for a bit snapping pictures here and there before coming back to your seat to flick through everything. You had to see what you could give the PR team to put on Richmond’s socials. 

A pint of beer slid in front of you drew you away from your camera, but it was mostly the smiling Jamie who’d slid into the chair next to you. He leaned in a little closer to be heard over the chatter of the restaurant, bracing his arm on the back of your chair. 

“D’you ever stop working?” 

“Meaning?” 

“Nothin’ bad! I just mean…every time I see ya you’re nose deep in that camera, barely get t’see your face.” 

“The point of my job is to see your face, not mine,” You joked, growing more nervous at the way he was looking at you, like he meant he actually wanted to see your face more instead. Jamie’s expression softened into something fond, knee bumping against yours gently, fingers brushing against your shoulder. His touch sent a feeling not unlike static shock through you, racing through your veins and sending your heart thundering loudly in your ears. 

You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you and leaning closer still, so close you could see a smudge of dirt from the pitch on his neck that he’d missed, the flecks of gray in his blue eyes. 

“S’shame. Got a face too pretty to be behind the lens all the time. Prettier than mine, even.” 

“Stop it,” You mumbled, but there was no real force behind your words. Jamie thought you were pretty. It made you feel giddy inside. 

“No, you stop it. You’re stunnin’.” He insisted, looking entirely sincere. 

“You’re just saying that.” 

“M’not. I mean it.” Jamie shook his head vehemently. You pressed your lips together, denying it still. “You don’t believe me. Here,” He was quick to grab your camera off the table carefully, leaning back a bit and hitting the shutter button determinedly. You’d barely managed to stretch an arm over your face before the flash went off. He squinted at the tiny screen, studying it for a few seconds before smiling proudly. 

“Think I finally know what’s so good about those candids you keep talkin’ about. That one’s a keeper.” He was firm in his words, turning the camera around to show you the picture he’d taken. Part of your face was obscured by your outstretched hand, but you could see most of your smile and a gleam in your eyes that you didn’t know you had until this very moment. You liked it. 

“D’you wanna go on a date with me sometime?” He asked hopefully, fiddling with the edges of his shirtsleeves. Warmth flooded your cheeks in an instant. “A proper one, where I can come by yours and ring your doorbell and give you flowers and all that shit.”

“Someone give Lust Conquers All a ring, ‘cause Jamie Tartt is a changed man!” You shouldn’t have been cracking jokes right now. It definitely wasn’t the time, but you couldn’t help yourself. It escaped before you could take it back. 

But Jamie just rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright, have a laugh. You didn’t say yes.” 

“I also didn’t say no.” You pointed out, scooting a few inches closer to him. He returned the gesture, sliding towards you until your knees pressed together. You were inches away from each other, again, but this time it was different. This time, you knew how he felt about you.

“That’s still not a yes.” He said softly, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it had you not been as close to him as you were right now. 

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and his eyes fluttered shut. “How’s that for a yes?” 

“S’good. Missed the mark though. Should be more like…” He trailed off, sneaking a quick peck to your lips before grinning sheepishly. “That.” 

“Sneaky boy.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was anything but annoyed. “Good thing you’re cute.” 

He preened at your compliment, giving a little self satisfied smile. “And a good photographer?” 

“Decent. If football doesn’t pan out, maybe I could make you my assistant.” 

“That mean I get to spend all day with you?”

“If you can handle it.” 

Jamie’s lips quirked up into a soft smile and he kissed you again, a little longer this time. His hand moved up your shoulder around the back of your neck tenderly, a blooming warmth against your skin. “I’ll manage.” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[romeosharpae]

“SAVE YOUR TEARS”

theodore nott x reader

content warning : extremely toxic relationship, cursing, public sex, mature language, explicit adult content, rough sex?, degrading, theodore nott x female reader, oral (f receiving), toxic! theodore nott.

parts : 1,2,

You're sure that if you were to ask anyone with common sense what they thought about you and Theodore Nott's relationship, they'd say it should be against Wizarding law.

"I don't want to talk!" You reprimanded, folding your arms over your chest with a huff. Theodore Nott simply rolled his dead-like blue eyes at your enraged lie.

Looking up at him, you could've sworn a twisted smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "C'mon baby, you're hurting my feelings." He mocked your soft voice.

"You don't have feelings." You mumbled, frustration growing in your voice. Theodore lowly chuckled, leaning his face down to kiss you but you turn away. "Get off of me, Nott, I need to go to Transfiguration."

Theo wrapped a veiny hand around your forearm when you tried to push past him, pulling you back to the stone wall. This time Theodore placed both his hands aside your head, trapping you between him and the wall. From the look on his pale face, you could tell that he knew you were still upset.

But how could you not be?

"Go back to wherever you were last--" Theodore scoffed loudly, drowning out the seething words leaving your lips.

"Are you kidding me?" He snapped. Even though you hated when he used that tone towards you, you weren't to back down. No, you were not about to apologize to Theodore and end up on your knees seconds later just to stop his yelling this time around.

"Funny. Those are the same exact words I repeated last night as I waited around thirty minutes for you." You shot back.  "You know, Theodore.. I really do hate y--"

"Watch your mouth." He warned.

"What's her name, huh?" You continued. Theodore's jaw clenched from anger. He can handle every insult you threw his way, but Theodore really hated when you accused him of being with someone else. "Is it Greengrass? She didn't learn from the last time I dragged her by her root--?!"

You recalled the last time one of Theodore's hook-ups confronted you, and the amount of Slytherin's it took to get you off of her. As previously said before, you were a sweet girl, but the side of you that Theodore brought out, wasn't as friendly or sweet..

"Shut up, you're not even that type of girl." Oddly enough, Theodore was right, you were not the type of a girl to threaten to physically hurt someone, especially over him. The more you thought about it, the more stupider that you sounded by saying that.

You were so stupid.

Had you not been stupid you wouldn't be in this predicament with the emotionless Slytherin brunette. You would've ran for this hills the moment he made it clear your relationship was just a friend-with-benefits dynamic, knowing you wanted more. Theodore knew you were stupid, so vulnerable, and he took advantage of that.

And that made your eyes began to well with tears, eyesight becoming blurred. Before you could even get the chance to control yourself, you began sobbing loudly. How could it even be possibly to hate someone yet love them as much as you do Theodore Nott?

Lucky for your image, everyone else was in class, or you would've looked like a complete maniac to the bystanders.

"Fuck..." Theodore deeply exhaled. The sobbing only became louder as he wrapped his arms around your figure, the heat from his body which was usually comforting seeming insufferable. "What's wrong..? What did I do?"

"Everything!"

You pushed yourself away from him, completely catching your lover off guard. During the years that you've known each other, never have you pushed him away. Even if he was the reasoning behind your distress, you still allowed him to comfort you.

"My best friend hates me!" You cried out, sadness easily detected in your tone. "She won't even talk to me!"

"Why would she hate you?"

Hate was complete exaggeration and you definitely knew that. Hermione Granger actually doesn't hate you. But you don't doubt for a moment she was extremely upset and disappointed with you; You, and everybody else could see the anger on her face when Theodore walked with you, hand-in-hand, inside the Great hall the morning following your rekindling at the Black lake.

"Umm, because I keep putting myself in the same unhealthy situation with you--" You said the obvious and your voice cracks.

Unhealthy situation (toxic).

Despite you being upset in the moment, you knew to avoid having Theodore's patience with you snapping, you shouldn't call it that.

He hated when you or outsiders would name your relationship that.. He claimed that although it had its flaws-way more than the common couple, it wasn't toxic.

But it was!

"Merlin." Theodore hissed, irritated. "Why does it matter what she thinks, Y/N?" Theo's continued rambles make you frown. "Granger and Weasley can not even admit they like each other--Why would she even care?"

"Because she's my friend!"

You could tell he wished she wasn't..

"Friends care about each other, Theodore. Unlike you and yours, me and Hermione are not just friends because it makes us look good." You started hypocritically, and a small frown spreads on the brunette's lips. "So of course she's not going to want me to be with someone who treats me like.. crap!"

You were telling the actual truth. The little patience that he had for you during your outburst has fully vanished as he grabbed the back of your neck, harshly forcing you to look into his dark blue eyes. "Don't say that, Y/N."And you could see the anger rising in his face although he had no right to be mad,

Hermione would tell you that the worse part about you and Theodore's situation was that you knew he disregarded your emotions yet you still went back. It ashamed you how Theodore had you wrapped around his finger. And you fully knew that a toxic relationship was bad enough, but it was even worse if both parties knew the reality of it.

And perhaps that's what led you sob even louder in the moment. Or why you wrapped your arms around Theodore, letting your emotions off into his chest. The brunette's hands slides up from your neck into the back of your head, rubbing you in comfort.

"Aren't the two of you suppose to be in class right now?" Flinch, who guarded the corridors questioned nastily.

If looks could kill, Flinch would be unresponsive on the ground from the way that Theodore turns to glare at him. You pulled away from him, despite the protest your body was giving you, and wiped your tears. There's Concern is written over the squibs face as he watched pull yourself together.

Your attempt to walk away and to Transfiguration fails against when Theodore repeated his earlier action by pulling you back to him. "Stop crying." Theodore's large hands cups your face, bringing you to meet him in a gentle yet powerful kiss.

Merlin, you really hated Theodore, just everything about him. But unfortunately for your sanity, you found yourself loving those same things undefinably.

Did Theodore Nott love you?

You found it sad that you knew the complicated answer to that overly question.  Yet here you were standing, knuckles practically forced between your lips, one leg pressed into the wooden bookshelf as Theodore ate you out like a starved man.

His tongue was roughly swirling against on your clitoris, annually sucking up the juices he earned from you. Your heart was beating rapidly, chest heaving up and down. And you didn't know weather this adrenaline rush was from the pleasure you were feeling or because you were in the schools library.. Or because on the other side of the bookcase was Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

A person who Theodore had just wrongly accused you of flirting with and wanting to fuck, and the other who probably wishes upon a well that you'd leave him alone. Clearly, the brunettes motives behind wanting to take you right here were clear. And had he not preformed a silencing charm on the two of you, your sure they would've heard your whining and his sucking, slurping, and curses. But a silencing charm wouldn't have stopped someone, anyone, from walking by and seeing the two of you in this obscene state, and that makes you throb, lowly moaning.

"Theo--" You sob.

Theodore growled against your wet flesh, bringing your body closer to him by the hand that he had on your waist. "You want more?"

Despite it being so sick, you nod.

And you knew the sickness behind this situation was what caused that large smile to smile across his full pink lips. He pushed your leg further back into the bookshelf, allowing himself more access before burying his face in-between your thighs once again.

You were absolutely terrified of what would happen had somebody saw you like this, vaginal area on display as the same boy you'd just been fighting with in the courtyard made a embarrassing mess out of you, the rumors that would be spread about you would tarnish your reputation for sure.

You squeeze your eyes shut, butting down further on your knuckles as you roll yourself against his pleasuring tongue.

You could feel your release approaching, probably only one tongue swipe away from getting it out of you. But Theodore ripped his mouth away from you, like you did not deserve your release, and it's gone with the wind. He was such a tease, and you really hated that. Theodore slapped your hand away when you tried to pull his head back between your thighs. Theodore stands to his feet, towering over your height like a tree as usual, and you watched as his fingers frantically went to unbuckle his belt. The desperation clear, the burning fire, behind his eyes as he started at you lets you know that Theodore Nott was seriously about to fuck you until were completely incoherent.

Harshly, Theodore manhandled you around until your back was facing him. Now, your chest was pushed up against the cold bookshelf and due to a few missing books, you could currently see both Hermione and Harry sitting down at a table, studying. Had one of them looked up and stared in your direction, your sure they'd see your face. This makes you hiss out, wanting to look away but Theodore roughly grabbed your jaw, keeping you in place before you could even get the chance.

"Hold it," He breathed out, and without a second thought you scrunched up the plaid school skirt you wore in your hands. Your breath hiked, "'He's no good for you, Y/L/N'" Theodore gritted in your ear, mocking your best friend. Before you could defend her honor, you felt him buried deep inside of you.

"Why don't you fuck my other best friend instead?" Your body knocked into the bookshelf at every hard thrust he gave you. From the way Theodore had you stretched around him your jaw drops, a strangled moan escaping from it loudly. "But you'd like that wouldn't you? He's what you want?"

You would admit that Harry Potter was an attractive boy. He was nice to you, always offered to help you with things, or walk you back to your house after class. And to say that you never thought he liked you would be a lie. But why would you want anything to do with Harry when you had Theodore?

Your eyes squeezed shut. At your lack of response to his question, Theodore pounds into you painfully harder, no doubt realizing that you are actually thinking about the question. "But I'm what you need, Y/N. He can't ever do the things that I do to you, remember that." You whine like a neglected infant at that, for more perhaps?

You stand up on you are tipped toes, attempting to brush an little bit of the pleasuring pain you were feeling but Theodore wasn't going for it. He wrapped his hand around your throat, forcing your back to his chest, whispering harshly in your ear, "Stop running, Take it."

Your pull your lower lip between teeth, attempting to stop yourself from screaming as you finally came undone. Tears began to fall from your glistening eyes, landing on the white button up blouse that were wearing.

Theodore ruts himself into you even harder, holding you in place by your throat to get himself off and nearly cutting off your airway. Although you didn't entirely mind.

As previously said, you enjoyed everything Theodore Nott had to offer you, even the not exactly mentally sane stuff. Theodore finally pulled himself out of you, and you were that he was about to finish. That was until he spun your around to face him, placed his hands underneath your kneecap, and hauled you up. Without even having to be asked,  you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You also took Theodore's lips into yours without having to be asked. Your trembling hands catered his face, tongue sliding over his in an extremely sloppy manner.

But the kiss was disconnected, your teeth baring with a hiss when he slips back in you. Theodore was pace was different this position, a lot more slower and deep, almost meaningful. "You think he'll still like you if he saw us?" He challenged, panting heavily.

"You wouldn't even care, would you?" He chuckled, giving you a smile that displays all his pretty pearly white teeth. "Because I'm all you need, right?"

You nodded your head, agreeing.

"Merlin Nott, you're such asshole!"

You had not even realized that you were crying.. not until you felt Pansy Parkinson hands brush against your cheeks. Her other hand was on your back, attempting to soothe you but it was failing to work.

Theodore looked at you with dead eyes. Yet even then you could see the amusement behind them, almost taunting you. And that made you that much angrier. You picked up an object from the table, launching at the brunette. "I...I hate you! S-So much!"

Theodore dodged it, the same way he does every time you tried throwing something at him while arguing. "Crazy little bi--"

Crazy?

Truthfully, you were in disbelief at the word that just escaped Theo's mouth. How dare he have the nerve to say you were behaving crazy? How dare he? Not when Theodore just basically called you clingy and told you to fuck off in front of his friends.

The embarrassment hurt just as bad as any other time he denied your relationship in and out closed doors. How could he just call things off whenever he felt like it? And you realize that you gave him that confidence by crawling back each time he did.

You're the reason that Theodore felt so comfortable treating you like something off the bottom of his shoe whenever he felt like it. And who was to say that that would change if there was a label on your situation?

"Why do you keep doing this to me?!" You spoke to him and his jaw clenched. "Merlin What did I do to deserve this?" You cried more to yourself this time.

Ever since you welcomed Theodore back in your life at the Black Lake, you have found your self crying so much more. Why did you have to love someone so nonchalant? So evil Why couldn't you love someone like Harry.. or even Draco Malfoy would be better.

Anything was better than someone that was selfish like Theodore Nott. You have dug yourself into this to insane misalliance because you have allowed him to be so selfish with your love that he didn't even deserve.

“Y--You don’t even deserve me...” You admitted said to him, sniffling. “So hey Nott, fuck you.” You wanted to launch something else at Theodore, shout, cry some more but that was the reaction that he wants from you. “Fuck you, Theodore Nott!” His jaw clenched at those words, expression twisting.

He wanted to see you insane at his hands, break yourself until you had other choice but to come to him comfort.

You snatched yourself out of Pasny’s grip, Theodore wore an expression that you couldn’t quite read because it’s so unfamiliar. Regret? Confusion? You couldn’t tell.

And for that you could not contain yourself from throwing a pillow at him. “You will never find someone better than me!”

You both knew that.

Then you breathlessly laughed, “And that’s disappointing because you’ll never ever have me again, Theodore Nott.”

Part four >>>

[slightly-depressed-sloth]

Details I noticed in my third watch through of Nimona:

(I’m so normal about this movie)

Ballister’s sword originally had a G engraved on it which has been made into a makeshift B via scratchings.

My guess is that the sword either used to be Goldenloins or his families and Ambrosius gave it to Bal at some point as kids (given that Ambrosius is the only one I can think of with a G name)

Also about the sword: people have been pointing out the religious themes (like with the T in “true villain” looking like a crucifix) on that note the symbol on Bal’s sword in this shot looks a lot like the Christian fish

Ballister literally hopped the fence and broke into the knights practice to beat up a dummy as a kid before getting tackled by a bunch of knights

I just thought he was doing an obstacle course when I saw it before but nope! This makes everything about him becoming a knight so much funnier. Also the fact they have this footage? Amazing 100% Ambrosius has it saved to tease Bal with, no way he isn’t embarrassed about that

On a sad note; dang the institute really drilled in “do what I say, be a good kid and don’t break the rules” cause Bal as an adult didn’t even want to break the rules when his life was on the line vs as a kid breaking and entering into an ongoing knight practice while being chased

The director asks Ambrosius for a sword during the roof scene but Ambrosius looks at her and back at Ballister before telling her she needs to get to safety

He saw how angry she looked and knew she’d try to hurt Bal so he sent her away instead

Where Nimona as Ambrosius broke the wall on the miniature of the city being foreshadowing for the end of the movie

Bal batting Nimona off when she starts mocking him for caring about what Ambrosius thinks

So clearly a recurring conversation given Bal’s ‘whatever’ gesture here lmao

Ambrosius being really timid with this crowd of people and overly polite

He’s chasing down a criminal/the love of his life and barely even says excuse me 😭😭 and he half heartedly asks them to move before immediately folding and giving an autograph, we love a man whose great at public speaking but still has social anxiety

Ambrosius’ eye roll as soon as Todd shows up

(He’s so done with him)

Todd’s actual name being Thodeus

Idk why I just assumed this was a different guy the first watch through