#keep forgetting to edit it for 2 years...
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sleepyvib-es · 2 days ago
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Hey, sorry to bother you if you're busy but what is going on with the aparent pjo script leaks rn?
Hey <3 so apparently some scenes of Nico's script got leaked and from the post i saw, they describe them as "Nico is more stoic and serious from the get-go while Bianca is more brave and outgoing." Bianca apparently remembers their childhood but Nico does not. He feels like he's "living in his sister's shadow" (set up for that one Hades scene maybe but with tv show Hades also having different personality I don't know how that's going to work). Bianca is apparently Percy's age and had a personality shift as well.
We don't know if the leaks are real or not but Becky did make a comment that has a lot of people thinking that there is a high possibility of all this being true.
EDIT: It's important to note that even if the script leaks are real, it doesn't mean they're final. Things can very well be different by the time s3 airs!
I went back and read the first few chapters to refresh my memory on how they were both described when we first meet them:
As we know from the titan's curse, nico was this happy ten year old kid (according to grover) who was excited to know that the gods, monsters, and heroes from his favorite game were actually real. What makes Nico's arc in the books so heartbreaking is that he did not start out as being pessimistic and sad. Nico di Angelo as a character was a breath of fresh air. This was a happy kid who had his child-like innocence taken from him the moment he found out his sister was dead. It's important that Nico starts out as hopeful and as happy as he did in the books because not only is this such an important aspect of his character but also because this was the first time the audience experiences a major character death and it really hammers in how utterly fucked up it is to be a demigod (if the first 2 books didn't convince you of that).
I want to also note that even though we remember him as being happy, Nico was still a kid. Nico was scared.
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I'm just highlighting this because I feel like a lot of people forget. Moments before he was the excited kid who was amazed that all of this was real, he was a scared child first.
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Even when standing up for his sister. What about these scenes give the impression that he is stoic and serious and not nervous and afraid?
To these changes I'll say: why are we doing this? why are we meshing nico's, i guess you could say future(?), outward personality with the one he had before experiencing the Horrors. I say this lightly because nico from the books was never a rude character. He was never someone that needed to be taught how to politely talk to people or make conversation. This is the same character that befriended a goddess, who was the first to notice her when no one else has. Nico having a bright personality when we meet him and still being so full of hope and kindness even after everything that happens to him is so important to me.
Bianca in the books was rightfully a bit more cautious. She was the one who would ask questions before accepting everything that these literal strangers were telling her.
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Bianca worried. She had no choice but to be the caretaker, the responsible older sister who always needed to keep herself and her brother safe. Bianca is indeed brave in the way she demands answers from Dr. Thorn (the manticore) and everyone else but it wasn't because she was a girlboss tm. It's because she had to be:
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But despite all of that, despite being bold enough to demand answers, she was still scared.
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And for as much responsibility she carried, she was still just a child. She was this 12 year old kid and her being this young with so much on her shoulders while having absolutely no support system is quite literally relevant to her character like this is literally the reason why she joined the hunters:
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Bianca being percy's age doesn't take away from how heartbreaking her story is but it does make me wonder why. Why are we aging her up? Is it too much for the audience to see the reality she faced for what it is? Is it easier if Bianca is portrayed as a 14 year old girlboss and not as the 12 year old child she so clearly was? This isn't me saying that all of this is okay to go through as long as you're 14+ btw because obviously not but it does make me question the writers. The books were targeted towards kids as well so saying "oh it's for kids of course they're toning down the horrors" as reasoning for all this falls flat to me personally.
Also, I understand wanting to make bianca a more well rounded character (there is valid criticism of how her character was handled in the books) but do the writers really only have one way of "adding depth" to their female characters? I haven't seen the full script and this may very well all be fake but it's like... if there's one thing the books got right, it's that these kids were allowed to be scared. Bianca was allowed to be worried about her first quest considering her lack of experience. She was the one, along with her brother, who needed to be saved from the manticore! and that's okay.
It doesn't make it anti-feminist to show female characters needing to be saved. It doesn't make it anti-feminist if your female character does not start out as badass and brave. It doesn't make it anti-feminist for the new girl to be less experienced or less knowledgeable of the world she just found out is real compared to the main characters. May I repeat, this is a child. A 12 year old child who was asked to make a choice right after witnessing another child fall off a cliff. Bianca was hardly given any time to process everything that had just happened, and then she makes a choice for herself that strained her relationship with her brother right before she was picked to go on a doomed quest. Bianca di Angelo should be allowed to feel scared, relieved, anxious, angry, sad, and confused and still be a strong female character.
To put it simply: everything we've seen so far from leaks is a mess. The way the di angelo siblings are described does not stay true to their characters from when they make their first appearance. Fans are rightfully upset at all these (supposed) changes because I mean... these are characters we've known and loved for nearly two decades. We love them just as they are. Nico's introduction to the story is iconic. I can't for the life of me imagine why anyone in the writer's room would want to ruin such a solid character lmao
Another reason why people are complaining is because if the leaks are real, it means that Will Solace apparently makes an appearance in s3. If we consider the timeline from the books, Will isn't a character until the last olympian. It seems like the writers are speed running solangelo, just as they did in s1 for percabeth. I personally would have liked to see Will as his own individual character first. If we had to have will appear earlier than he did in the books, I would have loved to see him as a background character (same with charles, silena, etc). It would be nice to see will as a camper, a younger brother, a friend first before immediately pairing him up with nico. Again, I don't know how it all will play out in the show but having the first time we meet will also be the first time he meets nico just feels ... rushed? fan servicey? I say this as someone who loves both these characters and ships them.
As a fan of bianca, nico, and will I want better for these characters. I want the source material to be respected. There is a way to move them from one medium to another without drastically changing who they are. Also this is a personal pet peeve of mine but richard please not everyone meets their soulmate when they're 12-14. The first person you befriend does not have to be your future lover. I see a lot of fans being excited for this because they get to make cute tiktok edits of their favorite characters and ships and like ... sure. okay. Do you not care that they fundamentally aren't the same characters you know and love though?
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puckinghockeygirl · 2 days ago
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The Alchemy
Leon Draisaitl x Reader
A little blurb for the masses as I work on the next Nico x Maia installment!
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Mentions of illness, mentions of toxic family, mentions of death of a parent, toxic/mean comments online, cyberbullying, other than that no warnings I believe!
“I love this song.”
You turned to look at Leon, your hair frizzy and unbrushed as you smiled sleepily at him. “Can we turn this up? Can we play the whole album?”
“As soon as I’m done at the pharmacy, babe.”
You groaned. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m literally getting you meds for your cold right now. I could not be any more fun.” You could hear the smirk in Leon’s voice, and to no surprise, when you looked over, it was planted firmly on his lips, his eyes focused solely on yours. 
You smiled at him again, despite your pounding headache and stuffy nose. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Leon hopped out of the car with a kiss on the cheek and strutted inside. You watched him with heart eyes the whole way. 
You’d met Leon, funnily enough, at a hockey game. He, of course, had been playing, and you had been watching. You knew of him–that is, you knew that he played hockey. You weren’t an Oilers fan, though. 
You were a Canucks fan. 
(Still were.)
You’d caught Leon’s eye during warmups. You’d been sitting in the third row, not up against the glass per se, but close enough. You were wearing a blank Canucks jersey gifted to you by your brother–he’d splurged on the tickets for Christmas, and had thrown in a jersey. You’d never been to a game, though you’d had it on your bucket list for years and had been a hockey fan for far longer than that. You’d never been able to afford it before, and even if you had, it felt like a waste compared to what that money could do in case of an emergency. 
Leon would tell you later why he picked you out of a crowd of Oilers fans. 
“You were so happy,” you remembered him telling you. “That smile on your face…I don’t think that’s something that I could ever forget.”
Things had escalated quickly from there. 
In between the first and second periods, someone from the stadium had rushed up to you with an Oilers jersey. You’d refused to put it on, but on closer inspection, you realized that the thing was inscribed on the back. 
For the Canucks fan, it read. I’d like to be the one that makes you smile like that. 
That had been inscribed on the 2, and on the 9, Leon had left his phone number. 
You’d blushed for the rest of the game, and when you’d called him, and even now, sitting in his car, terribly congested and running on limited sleep as he bought you cough medicine three years later. 
You loved him. 
You and Leon had been blessed thus far to keep your relationship secret. The Oilers WAGs knew about you two, of course, but other than that, you and Leon were a closely guarded secret. You didn’t go to public events or charity fundraisers together, you didn’t ever sit with the WAGs when you went to games, always in a different section in the arenas instead of private suites. You didn’t post about each other for Valentine’s Day, didn’t post pictures of your (brand new) engagement ring to your Instagram. All of this because you were, for lack of a better word, a normal person. You worked with the NHL occasionally, your company one that they contracted out to a few times a year to do promotional commercials and editing, normally around playoffs time. Besides those select few times, though, you were normally working with companies that were struggling to get the word about their product out. That was your job–you designed marketing campaigns, redesigned logos and branding, turned old companies new. At this place, you didn’t make much money, but you liked your job, and it was good for where you were at this point in your life. 
You were snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s door slamming closed. You glanced over at him as he held up two different medications–a cough suppressant and a decongestant. “Left or right?”
You pointed at the decongestant and he laughed, handing it to you with a bottle of water. You both sat there for a few minutes as he made good on his promise from earlier, connecting his phone to the car and playing the Taylor Swift song you’d asked him to turn up earlier. Before you knew it, you were clasping his hand on the center console, fingers intertwined, fast asleep.
***
You woke up to text messages. 
The repetitive buzzing of your phone against your nightstand was an interruption to what had been a perfectly fine evening into the morning. 
What you saw on your phone, however, changed all that. 
LIZZE: Hey, what the hell?
SISSY: You’re dating a hockey player–an Edmonton player, no less–and you didn’t tell me?!?
BRO: Hey, just wanted to give you a heads up…judging by the calls from the family, everybody knows about Leon now.
Attached to your brother’s message was an article from some sports gossip website. Through sleep-heavy eyes, you scanned the article. 
A New WAG Has Entered the Chat–Leon Drai-SIGH-tl Caught In Pictures Kissing Mystery Girl. 
You would’ve snorted at the headline if you stomach weren’t already churning. 
It didn’t stop churning. Not when you read through the article. Not when you saw the pictures, innocent ones, of Leon kissing you on the cheek in the car, of you kissing his hand, of your hands intertwined. And not–certainly not–when you saw the comments. 
Ugh, great, another slut to compete with. 
Guy could do better. Has he seen this girl?
Bet she’s just in it for the clout. 
Bet he’ll hit it and quit it. He’s not the type to settle down. 
Skank needs a brush, Jesus. Has she seen herself?
She looks sick in these pics, guys. 
The comments kept going, one after the other, so cruel and vile and just mean. You didn’t understand. You hadn’t done anything. You’d stayed out of the picture. You’d stayed quiet. All you did was fall in love. 
You clapped a hand over your mouth, still sick as Leon strode into the bedroom. You knew he wouldn’t be in bed when you woke up–he’d been bringing you tea and cough drops and breakfast in bed for as long as you’d been sick. Still, it was a shock to see him, striding around in just pajama pants, hair mussed as he talked into his phone, the thing clasped in his white-knuckled grip.
“I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care what you need to do. I need you to fix it.”
Leon caught sight of you, curled up on the bed, tears in your eyes, and softened for a minute. “Oh, baby, come here.” He hung up on whoever he was on the phone with; his PR person or his agent, you presumed. 
Leon’s touch was warm, but it didn’t do anything to reassure you as he climbed into the bed. He wrapped his arms around you, gently pulling your phone from your grasp. “Not right now, baby. Don’t look at that.”
“They’re saying…” your voice faltered. “Leon, they’re being so mean. I don’t even know these people. I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Leon pulled you closer to his chest. “I know. I know, I’m so sorry baby. You don’t deserve this, any of this.”
“I just–how did this happen?”
“Someone–a fan or something must’ve spotted us.” Leon sighed deeply through his nose and muttered some very inappropriate words in German. “They took pictures, obviously. They got around somehow. The only consolation is that nobody seems to have identified you yet.”
You shook your head. “My family knows. My brother told me.”
Leon had met your brother. In fact, he was the only member of your family that Leon had met. You’d long ago cut contact with the rest of your family–Jess (your mother), your sister. Your father had died when you were a teenager, though he’d never been anything but loving and supportive. Your brother, though, he was good. Great, really. He’d moved out when he was eighteen, and had taken you with him. You had been fourteen at the time, and you still cried sometimes thinking about all the ways your brother had saved you and provided for you. Leon had become fast friends with your brother, and your brother had been the one that Leon had ultimately gone to to ask for his blessing to marry you. 
Another sigh from Leon. He held you just that much tighter. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to find a way to fix this, baby, I promise.”
“I don’t think there is a way, babe.” You felt yourself tremble a little bit. “I think this is just how it is now.”
Leon kissed the crown of your head. “Okay. Okay, if I can’t fix it, then I can get people to stop talking. I can do that.” You watched the gears turn in his head. “I can do that, but I need your permission to do what I want to do.”
Less than thirty minutes later, Leon was in a suit, striding out the door, and you were weeping into the arms of Lauren, Connor’s fiance. 
***
The lights were brighter somehow than they normally were. 
Leon shuffled uncomfortably in his seat in front of the cameras and the reporters and tried not to touch his hair. When he remembered why he was doing this, he was filled with rage–but when he remembered that he was doing it for you, his blood cooled just a bit. He thought of you crying in Lauren’s arms as he’d had to leave and his heart ached. 
That was all pushed to the side as the press room quieted, and all eyes turned to Leon. 
“I wish I could say good morning, but it hasn’t been one.”
A ripple of laughter started to spread throughout the crowd. 
Leon didn’t smile. “That wasn’t a joke.”
The room fell silent again. 
“The fact that I have to be here right now is ridiculous, and quite frankly, the only reason I’m doing it is because it involves the person I love most in the world.” Leon swallowed. “I’m here regarding the images that are circulating online today of me and a woman. No, I will not say her name. Whether or not she is identified is up to the public, unfortunately, but I will not be the one who does that to her. The woman in those photos is my fiance.”
There was an outcry from the press, all of them clamoring and raising hands and microphones. 
“I’m not done. The woman in those photos is my fiance. I met her three years ago. She is brilliant, and funny, and silly, and beautiful, and I love her. The fact that our privacy was invaded so grievously is shameful. To whoever shared those pictures, I hope you sleep well at night knowing that the love of my life is crying at our home right now because I had to leave to address all of the things that are being said about her.” Leon shook his head. “You people online, you’re vile. The things you’re calling her are unforgivable, even more so because you have no idea who she is. You have no right to do such a thing. You have no right to say something about someone you know absolutely nothing about. Let me be very clear.” Leon looked down on the press, his heart beating steadily, calmly, patiently, like it knew exactly what kind of promise he was about to make. “If I receive any questions about my personal life, about my fiance, about our relationship that are not cleared with me beforehand or aren’t cleared by my fiance personally, if people who claim to be fans of the Oilers organization and of me continue to say the things online that they are saying, I will request a trade, and I will not come back. And if that doesn’t discourage you, then let me be even clearer in my intentions–if any personal attacks on my wife or our relationship continue, I will no longer play in the NHL.”
Another uproar from the crowd. Leon just looked down on them, like they didn’t matter. Like they were nonexistent. 
He simply kept looking into the camera. Spoke into the mic. 
“Hey, baby. Turn off the press conference now, okay? It’s over. Promise.”
At home, you didn’t second guess your fiance. You reached for the remote, taking it from Lauren’s hands, and turned off the TV. 
The day was a wash, sure. 
But the man who was going to be your husband, who had already become the love of your life?
Well, he was just the best thing that had even happened to you.
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binary-sys · 11 days ago
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we need to redo our pinned i think...
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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 1 year ago
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Turns out I can still learn something new about my favorite band: Ron Blair played the fucking cello on "The Wild One, Forever"?!
It was confirmed by Tom Petty who said: "He doesn’t play the cello," Petty said of Blair. "He just fashioned out enough that he could play the chorus."
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moonlightwritingf1 · 1 month ago
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Just a Picture | LN4
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⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° summary ━━━━━━━ After four days of silence, Y/N was drowning in heartbreak, replaying the fight that started it all—a photo of Lando in a club, looking far too close to another girl. It triggered every insecurity she'd tried to bury, and when she confronted him, things spiraled—accusations, shouting, even a panicked flinch that neither of them could forget. Then he showed up at her apartment, looking just as wrecked as she felt, desperate to explain, desperate not to lose her. 
⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° word count ━━━━━━━ 10k
⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f and m receiving), creampie?, slow sex, lots of 'I love you's
⚘.ᥫ᭡⋆˚✿˖° author's note ━━━━━━━ I guess this can be part 2 to The One He Couldn't Let Go if you squint a bit.
Based on this request.
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It was late afternoon. Y/N was in her apartment, the dark clouds outside mirroring the storm brewing in her thoughts. She paced across the polished hardwood floor, arms folded tightly over her chest, her posture radiating tension. The living area—modern décor, a minimalist gray couch, glass coffee table, and tall bookshelves filled with novels—felt both too big and too small all at once.
Her phone lay face-down on the dining table, silent for the past three days. Not a single call from him since that explosive argument. She glanced at it again, half-hoping it would light up, but it remained still. She bit her lower lip, trying not to let the swirl of angst devour her. The image from that damned photo online had replayed in her head non-stop. Just a random snapshot—but enough to trigger months of tension that had been quietly building between them.
A year ago, when she first met Lando, she had never imagined she could be standing in this place—both physically, in her apartment, and emotionally, consumed by heartbreak so intense that it threatened to break her from the inside. And yet, she remembered how it all started. He had breezed into her life, courtesy of a mutual friend, with that mischievous grin and those unexpectedly soft, bright eyes that seemed to look right through her. At first, she’d tried to keep her distance. He was a playboy, or so all the rumors said. She had read the articles, seen the gossip, heard the stories from random acquaintances who claimed they knew him. She doubted he was the type to stay faithful. She doubted he was the type to take relationships seriously, given all that she’d heard about his partying, about the way he used to message random girls on Instagram. It was the exact opposite of everything she wanted or needed.
Yet he had pursued her relentlessly. Flowers would show up at her apartment every week—delicate bouquets of roses, peonies, lilies. Expensive gifts, random text messages in the middle of the day just to say he was thinking of her. He found out about her favorite authors and sent her limited-edition books. He discovered her love for certain designer bags and surprised her with them, even though she told him a hundred times that she didn’t want him to waste money on her. She had tried to play hard to get; she had shut him down over and over, telling him that she wasn’t convinced, that he’d break her heart. She had tried to remind herself that once upon a time he had been in a relationship, still rumored to be cheating, going to clubs, and partying with random women. All the gossip. All the pictures. She didn’t want that kind of heartbreak. She believed he would revert to his old ways at any moment.
But then, five months ago, she finally gave in. Five months that had begun the strangest, most wonderful, and most complicated relationship she had ever experienced. From that moment, everything between them had been intense, nearly suffocating in its passion, overshadowed by her lingering doubts and his determination to prove her wrong. Every kiss felt like a confession of how badly he wanted her to trust him. Every time he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, she glimpsed in his eyes a silent plea that she believed in him. And slowly, she had begun to let her guard down. She let him in further than she had let anyone before.
That is, until four days ago, when her phone blew up with messages and notifications from mutual friends, from acquaintances who had seen it on social media: a photograph of Lando in a club with an unknown girl pressed very close to him. The angle of the camera made it look suggestive, as if he were leaning down into her ear, or maybe even nuzzling her neck. The girl’s arm was around his shoulders, and it looked like she was whispering intimately to him. The moment Y/N saw it, her stomach dropped. She hadn’t known rage so pure, not since childhood memories that she tried to bury. And in that moment, every single doubt she’d ever had about him came roaring back. She confronted him that night in her apartment, the memory of that confrontation still burned into the walls.
Four Nights Ago – The Fight
The moment Lando stepped into her living room, Y/N’s hands were shaking from anger. She had texted him: We need to talk. Now. And he’d come over immediately, wearing an expression of anxiety mixed with confusion. He must have known the rumors were swirling online.
“What the hell is that?” she demanded, pointing her phone at him, screen displaying the offending photograph. She didn’t realize she was almost yelling from the get-go. “Care to explain, Lando?”
He swallowed hard. His cheeks reddened. She wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or guilt or both. “It’s… nothing,” he said, raising his palms defensively. “That picture—God, I didn’t even know someone snapped that. It’s not what it looks like.”
Her words came out in a hot rush, unfiltered. “Oh, it’s not? Because it looks like you’re cozying up to some random girl at a club—just like the old days, right?” She breathed in sharply, unable to stop the venom streaming out. “I knew it. I always knew you’d go back to your old ways sooner or later.”
He stepped closer, frustration written on his face. “I wasn’t cozying up to her. She was a friend of a friend. I was leaning down to hear what she was saying because the music was too loud. That’s it. It’s a stupid camera angle.”
“Camera angle,” she repeated mockingly. “Right. Always an excuse. You act like I don’t know you have this… this history. Messaging random girls. Sleeping around. Even when you were with someone, the rumors said—”
“Rumors!” he interjected, voice cracking with frustration. “They were just rumors! I told you a hundred times, I never cheated on anyone. If I had a reputation for partying, it was because I was young, going to clubs, sure, but I wasn’t hooking up with every girl who came near me. And I’m sure as hell not hooking up with them now!”
Her face twisted with anger she couldn’t contain. “Don’t you dare lie to me. You know how insecure I already feel. You know what I’ve been through, Lando!” Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them back, refusing to cry. “You should’ve been more careful. You should have thought about how that picture would look. How it would make me feel.”
He ran a hand through his curls, agitated. “For God’s sake, Y/N, I can’t control every photo or every rumor. I’m an F1 driver. People take pictures. I’m sorry that it happened, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Sure. Just like you never did anything wrong all those other times you got plastered with groups of girls, right? God, how am I supposed to believe you, Lando?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. She could see him holding back his own anger. “Because,” he replied in a voice that trembled with repressed fury, “I’ve been bending over backward for months trying to prove to you that I’m not that guy. Do you think I spend all this time showering you with gifts, messages, and time, just so I can go out and hook up with random girls? That’s not me anymore!”
he shook her head, her voice laced with contempt that came from the deepest pit of her insecurities. “We can never know for sure, can we? God, I can’t stand the idea that I let you in, and you do something like this.”
He took another step toward her, eyes flashing. “Don’t put this all on me. You came into this relationship—if we can call it that—assuming the worst about me. I’m always on trial with you, Y/N. You never truly trust me.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “Well, if you want my trust, then don’t get photographed cuddling with random girls!”
He breathed heavily, exasperation rolling off him. “I told you, it wasn’t cuddling. And I can’t believe you’d think I would cheat on you. After everything we’ve shared.”
For a long moment, they stared at each other, hearts pounding, both of them caught in the throes of powerful, conflicting emotions. Then she lifted her chin, refusing to budge. “Get out,” she said quietly, but her tone was menacing in its finality.
He froze. “Y/N, please. Don’t do this.”
She shook her head. Her vision blurred as tears threatened to spill again. “Get. Out. Now.”
Lando’s expression turned furious and wounded. “Fine,” he spat. “If you won’t even listen to me, what the hell am I supposed to do?” In his frustration, he flung his arm up, wanting to run his hand through his hair, but in that split second, it looked like his hand was coming toward her in a fast, menacing way.
She recoiled instantly, a panicked flinch, arms defensively curling toward her face, eyes wide in fear. A rush of adrenaline spiked through her. It was so fast, so involuntary, as if a primal reflex told her that he was about to hit her.
His entire demeanor changed in an instant. The anger drained from his face, replaced by a haunting sorrow. “Y/N,” he whispered, voice breaking. “You think… you think I would—?”
She just stared at him, still trembling. She hated that her body had interpreted his movement as a threat. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, guilt mixing with the cocktail of fury and heartbreak in her chest. “I— I just… you moved so fast.”
He took a shaky step backward, heartbreak contorting his features. “I would never lay a hand on you,” he said, voice trembling. “How could you even think—?”
She pressed her lips together, her cheeks burning with shame. But the anger was still there, too, overshadowing everything. “Just get out,” she repeated.
He stared at her for a few long seconds, pain written on every line of his face. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel, storming out of the apartment. She heard the door slam behind him. It left her standing alone in the silent living room, her heart pounding loud enough that she thought it might burst through her chest. She sank onto the couch, tears finally spilling.
The Four Days of Silence
Now she was on day four without a call, text, or anything from Lando. At first, she’d been so angry she told herself she wouldn’t care if he never reached out again. But after the first 24 hours, the doubts crawled in. Had she overreacted? Was that truly just an innocent picture? She battled with herself over and over, replaying the confrontation in her head, fixating on the moment he raised his arm to push his hair back—how she flinched, how his eyes turned to raw agony.
Guilt ate away at her. Yet the betrayal—and the fear that he was still that same playboy—remained. She wasn’t sure she could handle being with someone who always had rumors swirling around. It was making her question everything.
But she also missed him. Terribly. She missed his laugh, that boyish grin in the morning when he’d wake up next to her, the way he’d wrap his arms around her waist from behind while she was doing something mundane like making coffee. She missed how he would gently brush his fingertips down her cheek while watching TV, how he was always so enthusiastic about introducing her to his friends—well, the few times she’d let herself be around his circle. She missed that warmth and attention, how being with him made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t felt in a long while.
Late into the nights, she lay awake in her bed, staring at the city lights, tears wet on her cheeks, imagining him in Monaco or at his family’s home, maybe even with that unknown girl. The worst part was that she realized, in her chest, that she truly loved him. A truth she had tried to ignore because acknowledging it made her feel so vulnerable.
She hated herself for flinching, for letting him see that she thought he could physically harm her. She knew enough about him by now to know he wasn’t violent. That flash of panic had come from a dark place in her mind, shaped by her insecurities. She didn’t know if he’d ever forgive her for that. Or if she could ever forgive him for being so careless in that photo.
Day three passed. Then day four. She was pushing through work, eyes rimmed with dark circles from lack of sleep, snapping at her coworkers who asked too many questions, trying to bury herself in spreadsheets and emails.
The Afternoon of the Fourth Day
She had just gotten back to her apartment after another draining day at the office. She kicked off her heels by the front door, passing the large mirror in the entrance hallway. She lingered a moment, studying her reflection—searching for something she could never quite name. She tried to straighten her shoulders, to seem more composed than she felt, but the familiar ache of doubt had already settled in.
She always worried that Lando, with his flirty ways and well-known preference for a certain type, would eventually look at her and realize she wasn’t enough. It hurt that she cared so deeply about this. She hated that she cared. She wanted to be that fierce girl who didn’t need anyone’s validation. But with him, she felt so out of control sometimes—like all the confidence she’d tried to build kept slipping through her fingers the moment he smiled at someone else.
Letting out a shaky breath, she headed to her bedroom, planning to change into something more comfortable, maybe sweatpants and an oversized tee. She rounded the corner into her living room—and froze.
Lando was there, standing by the window, looking out across the glittering skyline of London. He had his luggage next to him, as if he had come straight from the airport or something. Her heart jumped to her throat. Anger, relief, love, and pain swirled inside her so violently that she couldn’t even speak for a moment. 
He turned at the sound of her footsteps, eyes meeting hers. She saw the exhaustion on his face, the shadows under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days either. His hair was disheveled, the curls an unruly mess, and he wore a fitted black hoodie and gray joggers. Under normal circumstances, the sight of him might have made her breath catch with desire, but now, there was only tension.
They stared at each other in silence. Her eyes filled with tears again. She loathed that she cried so easily these days. “How did you get in?” she finally managed, her voice cold.
“I still have the key,” he replied quietly. “You didn’t ask for it back.”
She swallowed. Right. She hadn’t. Maybe that was a subconscious sign she wanted him to return. “You can’t just barge in here.”
“I didn’t know how else to see you,” he said, voice trembling with raw honesty. “You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I kept sending messages the first two days, you never replied. I got scared you’d blocked me, or that you never wanted to see me again.”
She scoffed, though hearing he’d tried to call made her guilt spike. She had left her phone on silent, or face-down, ignoring the messages—convinced she had to remain strong. “And so you decided to ambush me at home?”
He clenched his jaw, taking a step forward. “I couldn’t stand the silence anymore, Y/N. It’s been killing me.” He paused, searching her face with a mixture of desperation and anger. “I’m sorry for everything. But you have to understand, that picture—it was nothing. And I hate that you believed otherwise. It feels like you don’t trust me at all.”
“Because you’ve given me reasons to doubt,” she snapped, tears threatening to spill once more. “I’ve seen the rumors, the pictures, the girls you used to be with. I can’t— I don’t know how to handle it. It hurts to even think about. I can’t stand the idea of being compared to those bikini-model types you used to party with.”
His eyes widened. “Compared to them? Y/N, I’ve never once compared you to anyone. I—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, I know I made mistakes in my past. I slept around. I partied. But that was before. This last year has changed me, especially these five months with you.” He paused, voice trembling, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”
Her throat was tight. She exhaled slowly, all the anger and hurt rising again. “Then why did that picture look so—so intimate?”
He rubbed his face. “I was talking to that girl. She was leaning in because the music was loud. I wasn’t even there for long. I’d gone out with some mates, had a few drinks, and left early. I swear to you, I wasn’t flirting or anything close to that.”
She folded her arms protectively, glowering. “And I’m just supposed to believe that?”
He looked at her with a heartbreak so profound that her stomach twisted. “I wish you would,” he whispered. “Because it’s true.”
She stared at the floor, tension coursing through her. The silence pressed down on them. She recalled the image of his arm moving up four nights ago, the absolute terror she felt, that flicker of fear that he might hurt her physically. She forced her eyes up to his. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, voice catching. “For thinking you’d hit me.”
His face contorted with anguish. “That… that moment,” he said, voice shaking, “I can’t even describe how it felt to see you flinch like that. Like you believed I could do something so horrible.”
She sucked in a breath, her lips quivering. “I just—I don’t know what came over me. It was a reflex. But everything else I meant. I can’t stand the way you have these shady pictures circulating. The rumors. And I hate feeling like I’m one in a long line of random women in your life. It eats me alive.”
His eyes were red, and he seemed to hold himself back from crossing the room to comfort her. “You’re not just another woman,” he said, voice brimming with emotion. “I would never see you that way. I love you, damn it. Don’t you get it? You’re everything to me.”
She swallowed, her heart thumping so loud it filled her ears. “You say that,” she answered raggedly, “but it’s so easy to say. What if you get bored, or you find someone else, or you want someone who wears skimpier clothes—someone who has the perfect body or an easier attitude?”
He scoffed softly, a pained look crossing his face. “Skimpier clothes? You think I care about that? Y/N, I love you for you. You can wear a shapeless potato sack, and I’d still think you’re breathtaking.” He licked his lips, stepping closer, but still leaving a couple feet of space, as if cautious not to invade her bubble if she didn’t want it. “I don’t want any other woman. I want you. I hate that all these rumors, these illusions, keep driving a wedge between us.”
She turned away, crossing to the couch. She rested her palms on the back of it, trying to steady her breathing, trying not to let the tears fall. “I can’t… forget. When I see pictures like that, it’s like a knife to the chest.”
He came up behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body. Very gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, but she didn’t pull away. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I could erase my past. I wish I could protect you from seeing that photo. But I can’t. All I can do is promise you I wasn’t cheating, nor do I ever want to.”
Anger still simmered beneath her skin, but she also felt the longing, the deep ache to reconcile with him. She wanted to lash out, to blame him, but she was so damn tired of fighting herself and him. She turned around slowly, looking up at him. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” she asked hoarsely, tears pooling in her eyes. “Why didn’t you show up earlier?”
He inhaled sharply. “I tried calling. When you didn’t answer, I was worried you’d blocked me or that you needed space. I also needed to cool down. After how we yelled at each other, I— I was afraid you wouldn’t even look at me.” A trembling laugh escaped him. “I didn’t want to drive you further away. But last night, I realized I couldn’t handle another hour without trying to see you. So I packed my bag and flew here this morning.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, fresh tears running down. “I hate you,” she whispered, though her tone was heartbreakingly vulnerable, betraying how she felt the exact opposite.
He grimaced, eyes moist. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I’ll do anything to make this right.”
For a moment, she couldn’t respond. She just stared at him through the haze of tears. Something inside her cracked wide open—the dam that had been holding in all the emotion. In one swift motion, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. She felt his heart hammering beneath her cheek.
He hesitated only a split second before he crushed her against him, his arms wrapping around her waist so tightly as if he was afraid she’d slip away at any moment. The tears she’d been holding back poured out, and she felt his body shaking too. They stood there, locked in an embrace that trembled with raw anguish.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again into her hair, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“I hate that you made me doubt you,” she whispered, voice muffled by his shirt. “And I hate that I’m so insecure. But most of all, I hate that… I can’t let you go.” She let out a choked sob, closing her eyes. “I love you too. And it hurts so bad because I’m scared you’ll destroy me someday.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’d rather die than hurt you,” he said, voice cracking with sincerity. “I’d rather die than lose you.”
The tension and heartbreak in the air shifted palpably, turning into a different kind of electricity. They pulled back just enough to look at each other, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Their faces were inches apart, breath intermingling. Then, wordlessly, as if drawn by a magnetic force, their lips collided in a fierce, desperate kiss.
She tasted salt from her tears as he kissed her, but the urgency in the press of his mouth overwhelmed her senses. Her hands slid up around his neck, fingers tangling in his curls. He held her face between his palms as though she were something delicate—yet the kiss itself was anything but gentle. It was raw, intense, filled with the pent-up longing of four days of agony and an entire relationship’s worth of insecurities.
They broke apart for a brief moment, gasping for air, foreheads touching as they tried to form words. But no words came. Only that frantic hunger to feel close after so many days of pain and confusion. They resumed kissing, deeper this time, tongues and teeth clashing, breath ragged. She moaned softly against his mouth, her body igniting with the need to be consumed by him.
“Bedroom,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to speak. His eyes were dark with longing, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
She grabbed his hand and led him down the short hallway. The moment they entered her bedroom, the tension redoubled. Even the air felt charged. The blinds were half-drawn, letting in the golden glow of the late-afternoon sun. The duvet on her bed was slightly disheveled, and she had thrown some clothes on it earlier that morning. The entire room smelled like her faint vanilla perfume and the leftover anxiety of the last few days.
She turned to face him, breath quivering. He reached for her face, cupping her cheek. She looked up into his eyes, still rimmed with leftover hurt. She reached for his hoodie, and he helped yank it off, tossing it aside. The next second, he was kissing her again, guiding her toward the bed. He peeled off her blouse, his hands shaking with the intensity of the moment, exposing her skin to the cool air and his heated gaze.
His lips moved down her jaw, her neck, gently nipping at the sensitive flesh there, drawing out soft gasps. Her fingers fumbled with the waistband of his joggers, pulling them down. Every movement was frantic, desperate, as if they both knew that making up like this was both a healing and a reaffirmation of what they meant to each other.
She sank onto the bed, and he followed, settling above her. Their mouths found each other again in a searing kiss, tongues dancing as their bodies pressed together. She could feel his heart beating wildly. She let her hands roam over his torso, savoring the warmth of his skin, the muscle that flexed beneath her palms. He groaned into her mouth, his voice husky with need.
“God, I missed you,” he breathed. He lowered his head to kiss down her collarbone, his breath hot against her skin. “I was going crazy not hearing your voice.”
She arched against him, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed by how much she had missed him too. Her nails lightly raked his shoulders. “Don’t ever disappear on me again,” she murmured, breath hitching. “Don’t leave me like that.”
He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. The raw emotion in his eyes almost made her dizzy. “Never,” he promised, and he sealed the vow with a slow, deep kiss.
Their hands explored every inch of exposed skin, reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies as though it had been years rather than mere days. Slowly, carefully, they stripped away the barriers of clothes. Each article of clothing fell to the floor or was pushed aside on the bed, along with the tensions and fears that had weighed on them. He caressed her curves, pressing gentle kisses to her hip, her waist, then trailing his lips up to her neck. She whimpered softly, allowing herself to be lost in the sensations.
He loomed above her, completely naked, his body trembling with the intensity of the moment. His hands slid down her arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before he moved up her body again. His lips found hers in a searing kiss, hot and desperate, as if he were trying to make up for every second of the four days they’d spent apart. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands tangling in his unruly curls, pulling him closer, as though she could fuse them together and never let him go again.
When he finally broke the kiss, his lips didn’t stray far. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her temples, each press of his mouth a silent apology, a promise, a plea. His breath was warm against her skin as he trailed kisses down her jawline, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. She shivered, a soft whimper escaping her lips as her head fell back against the pillows, her body arching instinctively toward him.
“Lando,” she breathed, her voice trembling with need.
He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he kissed across her collarbone, his hands moving down to her shoulders to steady her. His lips moved lower, leaving a trail of fire across her chest. He lingered there, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, his breath hitching as if he were savoring her. She could feel his hunger, his desperation, and it mirrored her own. When his mouth finally closed around her nipple, she gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair.
He sucked gently at first, teasing her, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud until she was squirming beneath him. Then he sucked harder, drawing a sharp cry from her lips. She could feel the heat pooling low in her stomach, her body responding to him as it always did, as if it were wired to crave him and him alone. His fingers found her other breast, kneading and teasing, and she moaned, her back arching off the bed.
“Lando,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own ragged breathing.
He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire, his lips swollen from kissing her. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I can’t get enough of you.”
She reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of everything that had happened between them hanging in the air. But then he leaned down, capturing her lips in another kiss, and all the tension, all the doubt, melted away, replaced by an all-consuming need.
This time, when he pulled back, his hands moved to her hips, lifting her slightly so he could slide further down the bed. His lips trailed down her stomach, leaving a path of fire in their wake, and she shuddered, her hands clutching at the sheets. He kissed her hips, her thighs, his breath warm against her skin, and then his mouth was on her again, sucking and teasing, his tongue darting out to taste her.
She cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily, and he groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her still as he continued to worship her with his mouth, his tongue flicking over her sensitive flesh until she was trembling, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
“Lando,” she moaned, her voice breaking. “Please.”
Lando didn’t lift his head, not yet. His hands tightened on her hips as he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to trace the slick, sensitive folds of her pussy. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her, and she whimpered, her thighs trembling on either side of his head. He could taste her, her arousal, her need, and it drove him wild. He loved her like this, so open, so vulnerable, so completely his. His tongue delved deeper, exploring her, savoring her, and she cried out, her hands fisting in the sheets.
“So fucking sweet,” he murmured against her, his breath hot. “I could taste you forever.” His voice was rough, dripping with desire, and it sent a shiver up her spine. He pulled back slightly, his lips closing around her clit, and he sucked gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. She arched off the bed, her moans echoing through the room, and he groaned, the sound muffled against her.
He lifted his head just enough to speak, his lips glistening with her. “You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice low and reverent. “I fucking love your pussy, Y/N. I love how you writhe for me, how you moan for me.” He kissed her again, his tongue slipping inside her, and she gasped, her hips bucking against his face. He held her steady, his hands firm on her hips, as he drank her in, every sound, every taste, every shudder of her body.
He loved this—he lived for this. The way she fell apart for him, the way her breath hitched and her cries grew louder, the way she trembled when he touched her just right. He loved the way she moaned his name, the way she clutched at the sheets, the way she surrendered to him completely. He loved knowing that he could make her feel this good, that he could bring her to the edge and push her over, that he could make her his in every possible way.
His tongue flicked over her clit again, faster this time, more insistent, and her moans turned into desperate cries. “Lando—please—I’m so close,” she gasped, her voice breaking. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. He sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue working her relentlessly, and she came with a sharp cry, her body convulsing, her hands clawing at the sheets. He didn’t let up, drinking in every drop of her release, until she was panting, her body limp and trembling.
He finally lifted his head, his lips wet, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he said, his voice rough. He crawled up her body, his hands framing her face as he kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips. “I love making you feel good,” he murmured against her mouth. “I love hearing you moan, feeling you shake, watching you fall apart for me.”
She reached for him, her hands trembling as she cupped his face. “You’re incredible,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I love it when you worship me like that, when you make me feel like I’m the only thing that matters.” Her eyes were soft, filled with adoration, and he kissed her again, gently this time, savoring the way she melted into him.
“You are the only thing that matters,” he said, his voice low and earnest. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you—your body, your mind, your soul. I love making you feel good, I love hearing you moan, I love watching you come. I love you.”
She smiled, a slow, sweet smile that made his heart ache. “I love you too,” she whispered. She pulled him down, her lips finding his, and they kissed, slow and deep, their bodies pressed together, their hearts beating in sync. For the first time in days, the world felt right again.
He pulled away from her lips reluctantly, his chest heaving, his cock throbbing between them as he hovered above her. “I need to be inside you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. “I can’t wait anymore.” His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he guided her closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between her legs.
But she shook her head, her eyes filled with need, her lips swollen from his kisses. “Not yet,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I need you in my mouth first. Please, Lando. Let me taste you.”
He groaned, his head falling back as he fought for control. “Fuck, Y/N—I want to be in you. I’ve been waiting for this for days.”
Her hands slid down his chest, her nails lightly scratching his skin as she moved lower, her fingers wrapping around his hard cock. He hissed at the touch, his hips jerking forward instinctively. “I know,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “But I need this. I need to feel you in my mouth. Let me, please. I’ll make it good for you.”
He looked down at her, his eyes burning with desire and frustration. She was begging him, her voice dripping with need, and he couldn’t deny her. Not when she looked up at him like that—with those pleading eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered, his resolve crumbling. “Just—just for a minute. Then I’m inside you.”
She didn’t waste another second. Lando lay back on the bed, his head resting on the pillows, his chest rising and falling rapidly as she positioned herself between his legs. His cock was already leaking precum, the tip glistening, and she could feel him twitch in her hand as she stroked him slowly. She licked her lips, her mouth watering at the sight of him, at the thought of tasting him, of feeling him on her tongue.
Without hesitation, without teasing, she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head. He groaned loudly, his hands fisting in the sheets as she sucked him deep, her head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm. One hand rested on his inner thigh, her fingers digging into his skin, while the other stroked the base of his cock in time with her movements.
She looked up at him, her eyes locked on his as she sucked him, her lips stretched around his length. The sight of her—her lips wrapped around his cock, her eyes filled with hunger—was almost too much for him. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and she moaned around him, the sound vibrating through him, sending jolts of pleasure racing down his spine.
“Look at you,” he breathed, his voice rough with arousal. “Fuck, you’re so sexy like this. You love having my cock in your mouth, don’t you? You’re such a good girl for me, Y/N. Such a fucking slut for my dick.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t stop. She loved when he talked dirty to her, when he called her his slut, his good girl. It made her feel wanted, desired, and it only made her suck him harder, her movements becoming more desperate, more eager. Her hand moved from his inner thigh to his balls, her fingers gently massaging them as she continued to suck him, her lips and tongue working him relentlessly.
She could feel him throbbing in her mouth, could taste the saltiness of his precum on her tongue, and it only made her want him more. She loved the way he felt in her mouth, the way he filled her, the way he made her feel so alive, so connected to him. She loved the way he moaned her name, the way his hands tightened in the sheets as he tried to hold himself back. She loved the way he looked at her, his eyes filled with desire, his breath hitching as she sucked him.
For Lando, it was almost too much. The sight of her—her lips wrapped around his cock, her eyes filled with hunger, her hand stroking him, her fingers massaging his balls—was driving him wild. He loved seeing her like this, so turned on, so eager for him. It made him feel powerful, desired, and it made him want to give her everything she begged for. He loved the way she looked at him, her eyes locked on his as she sucked him, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He loved the way she moaned around him, the way her body trembled with need. She was his, and he loved every fucking second of it.
But he couldn’t let himself come—not yet. He wanted to be inside her, to feel her tight, wet pussy around him as he spilled himself deep inside her. He gently pushed her away, his hands trembling as he gripped her shoulders. “Enough,” he said, his voice rough with need. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
She pulled back, her lips swollen, her breathing ragged, her eyes filled with longing. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desire. “Please. I need you.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands moved with purpose, gripping her hips firmly as he manhandled her onto her back again, her body sinking into the mattress. She gasped, her hands instinctively reaching for him as he positioned himself above her, his weight pressing her into the bed. His eyes locked onto hers, intense, brimming with something deeper than desire—something raw, emotional, and unspoken. He hovered for a moment, his breath ragged, his chest heaving, before he shifted, guiding himself toward her entrance.
She felt the tip of him brush against her, hot and insistent, and a shiver of anticipation ran through her. He paused, his hands framing her face as he leaned down, his forehead pressing against hers. She could feel the tremble in his body, the way he was holding himself back, trying to control the primal urge to claim her. His breath mingled with hers, shaky and uneven, as he whispered, “I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”
And then, slowly, achingly slow, he entered her. She felt every inch of him as he pushed inside, her body stretching to accommodate him, the sensation both overwhelming and electrifying. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to steady her breathing. It wasn’t just the physical sensation that made her head spin—it was the way he looked at her, his eyes never leaving hers, his expression a mix of reverence and desperation. It felt like he wasn’t just entering her body; he was reclaiming her heart, her soul, every piece of her that had been fractured by distance and doubt.
For Lando, the moment was equally intense. The warmth of her body enveloped him, tight and welcoming, and he groaned, his head falling forward as he fought to keep his movements slow, controlled. He could feel her trembling beneath him, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps, and it made him ache with a need that went far beyond physical. He wanted to lose himself in her, to drown in the way she felt around him, but more than that, he wanted her to know how much she meant to him. How much he loved her. How he’d do anything to keep her, to protect her, to make her feel cherished.
He stayed inside her, not moving, his body flush against hers, their breaths mingling as they stared into each other’s eyes. The stillness was charged, electric, as if the world had paused just for them. She could feel him twitching inside her, the way his body seemed to throb with the effort of holding back, and it made her ache with a need that was almost unbearable. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling, her hands clutching at his back. “Please… move. I need you.”
But he shook his head, his hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I want to take my time with you. I want to show you how much I love you, Y/N. How much you mean to me.” His words were soft, tender, but there was a fire behind them that made her heart race. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss, his tongue exploring hers as if he were trying to memorize every inch of her.
He pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m yours. Always.” His voice broke on the last word, and she could feel the sincerity in it, the weight of his promise. It was as if he were trying to pour every ounce of his love, his devotion, into that one moment.
She whimpered, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. “I love you,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion. “I missed you so much. Please, Lando… don’t let go.”
He kissed her again, his movements slow and deliberate, his hands roaming her body with a reverence that made her heart ache. He worshiped her with his touch, his lips, his words, as if every inch of her were sacred. His hands slid down her sides, smoothing over her skin, before he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples in slow, teasing circles. She arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as her body responded to him instinctively.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he leaned down to kiss her neck, her collarbone, the sensitive spot just below her ear. His lips were warm, his breath hot against her skin, and she shivered, her hands tightening in his hair. He took his time, exploring every inch of her with a patience that made her ache. 
“Lando,” she breathed, her voice pleading, her hands tugging at his hair. “Please… I need you. I need you to move.”
But he shook his head again, his hands sliding down to her hips, gripping her firmly as he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. “I’m not going to rush this,” he said, his voice steady despite the fire burning in his gaze. “I want to make this last. I want to make you feel how much I love you, Y/N. How much I’ve missed you.”
His words were a balm to her soul, soothing the raw edges of her heart, but they also made her ache with need. She could feel him inside her, hot and thick, twitching with every breath, and it was maddening to have him so close, so still. “Please,” she begged, her voice breaking, her hips lifting slightly in an attempt to get him to move. “Please, Lando… I need you to fuck me. I need you to make me feel good.”
He groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily at her words, but he held himself back, his hands tightening on her hips. “I will,” he promised, his voice rough with desire. “But not yet. I want to savor this. I want to savor you.”
She whimpered, her nails digging into his back as she tried to pull him closer, but he stayed still, his eyes locked on hers, his expression filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache. She loved this side of him—the way he could be so soft, so gentle, even in moments of intense passion. It made her feel cherished, adored, and it made her love him even more.
Finally, he began to move, his hips rocking against hers in slow, deliberate thrusts. The sensation was maddening, each movement drawing a soft cry from her lips as she writhed beneath him. He kept his pace slow, his eyes never leaving hers, his hands moving to cup her face as he leaned down to kiss her again. His lips were warm, his tongue exploring hers in a way that made her head spin, and she moaned into his mouth, her hands clutching at his shoulders.
For her, the slow, deliberate movements were both agonizing and intoxicating. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, the sensation building slowly, steadily, until she felt like she might explode. She could feel him inside her, hot and thick, filling her completely, and it made her ache with a need that was almost unbearable. She wanted more—needed more—but he held back, his movements controlled, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache.
For Lando, the slow pace was equally intense. He could feel her around him, tight and warm, and it took every ounce of his self-control to keep from losing himself in her. He wanted to savor this moment, to make it last, to show her how much she meant to him. He wanted to worship her, to make her feel loved, cherished, adored. And he knew that the only way to do that was to take his time, to draw out every second, to make her feel every ounce of his love.
He kissed her again, his lips moving against hers in a slow, deep rhythm that matched the pace of his thrusts. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips, his voice trembling with emotion. “I love you so much, Y/N. I’m never letting you go.”
She whimpered, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as she kissed him back with a desperation that mirrored his own. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please, Lando… don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He kept his pace slow, deliberate, his thrusts deep and steady as he continued to worship her with his body, his touch, his words. He kept kissing her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders, his lips lingering on every inch of her skin as if he were trying to memorize her. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if he were trying to commit her to memory.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he leaned down to kiss her again. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I never will.”
She moaned, her hands clutching at his back as she arched into his touch, her body responding to him instinctively. The slow, steady rhythm of his thrusts was driving her wild, the sensation building slowly, steadily, until she felt like she might explode. “Lando,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Please… I’m so close.”
He kissed her again, his movements never faltering as he held himself above her, his eyes locked on hers. “Let go, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”
And with those words, she shattered, her body convulsing as she clung to him, her cries muffled against his chest. He held her through it, his thrusts never faltering as he continued to drive her over the edge, his own release building steadily until he could no longer hold back. With a low groan, he pressed his face into her neck, his body shaking as he spilled himself inside her, his breath hot against her skin.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, their bodies trembling, their breaths mingling as they held onto each other. The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing, the air thick with the weight of everything they had shared, everything they had overcome.
Slowly, he pulled back, looking down at her with an aching tenderness she had never seen so plainly before. He brushed damp hair off her forehead, trailing a thumb across her cheek.
“I love you,” he whispered, voice a low rasp in the hush of the room. “I love you so much. And I’m so sorry for everything.”
She exhaled shakily, caressing the side of his face. “I’m sorry, too,” she murmured. “I got so consumed by anger and jealousy. I should have let you explain calmly. And I… I should never have doubted that you’d raise a hand to me.”
He shook his head, kissing her temple. “You have nothing to apologize for. Your fears come from a real place. I just want to do better for you. I never want you to think I could hurt you.” He swallowed hard. “I’m terrified of losing you.”
She stared up into his eyes, seeing the layers of heartbreak there. “Don’t do anything that makes me doubt you again, Lando. Please,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “I can’t take this kind of fight again.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I promise,” he said. “And if something comes up—pictures, rumors, anything—please talk to me before letting it build up in your head. I’ll tell you everything.”
She nodded, tears threatening once more, but they didn’t spill. “Okay,” she agreed softly.
They settled into a quiet embrace, his arm draped over her waist, her head on his chest. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heart, each beat reassuring her that he was here and that he wasn’t letting go. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in pink and orange hues that filtered into the room. For a time, neither of them spoke, letting the warmth of each other’s bodies and the lingering afterglow of their fierce coupling do the talking.
Eventually, their breathing evened out, and Lando shifted to lie on his side, propping his head on one hand so he could look at her fully. She blushed slightly, tugging the sheets up to cover herself, though he’d already seen every inch. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her lips felt tender from the rough kisses.
He reached out to tuck a stray strand behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he said quietly.
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. “Don’t,” she mumbled. “I’m not—”
“You are,” he insisted. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Your body, your face, your heart… it’s all incredible to me.”
“Stop flattering me,” she murmured, but she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. His genuine admiration always made her heart skip a beat.
He gave her a half-smile, though there was still a hint of sadness in his eyes. “We have to talk, you know,” he said softly. “We can’t just… pretend the argument didn’t happen.”
She nodded, the smile fading as she remembered the fiery fight. “I know.”
He took a deep breath, shifting closer so their foreheads nearly touched. “I hate that my past makes you feel insecure. But it’s my past. I can’t change it, no matter how badly I wish I could.” He placed a hand gently on her hip. “I need you to understand that I’m not that guy anymore. Maybe I was reckless before, a little shallow. But I’m not the same person I was a year or two years ago.”
She chewed her lip, eyes drifting to where her hand lay over his on the bed. “I guess a part of me thinks that once a player, always a player,” she admitted. “Like, if you’ve done it once, you’ll do it again. But I know that’s not fair. People can change.”
His fingers squeezed hers lightly. “I don’t want anyone else. I know you might find it hard to believe, but it’s true. I’m not going to ruin this for some random stranger in a club.” He paused, voice growing thick with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I love your fierceness, your shy smiles, your sarcastic quips, how you refuse to let me pay for everything even though I want to spoil you. I love the way you get all excited about a new book or a new recipe you learned. I love your body, every curve, every inch, how it feels like you were made to fit in my arms.”
She drew in a shaky breath, tears gathering again. “Lando…”
He nodded, blinking back his own moisture. “So trust me, please. Talk to me if you feel suspicious. Don’t bottle it up until it explodes. Because I can’t go another four days like this. It was pure hell.”
She closed her eyes, exhaling. “I’m sorry I shut you out,” she whispered, voice trembling. “And I’ll… I’ll try. I don’t want to go through this either. I just need reassurance. Because my insecurities are… they’re crippling sometimes. Seeing that picture brought back every fear I had.”
He cupped her cheek gently. “I get it. And I’ll do my best to reassure you. Always.”
They shared a tender kiss, a silent pact to communicate better, to lean on each other instead of letting the fear linger. After a few more minutes of hushed conversation, she excused herself to use the bathroom, to freshen up.
Stepping into the attached en-suite, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror: flushed cheeks, swollen lips, hair in wild mess. She splashed cool water on her face, trying to calm the roiling emotions. She felt lighter somehow, as if her chest wasn’t as constricted. He was here, in her home, in her bed, and they’d just poured out so many painful feelings. But they’d also reconnected intimately, forging a new bond in the midst of all the anguish.
Yet a small flicker of doubt still lingered. She wondered if she could truly accept the rumors that might come in the future—pictures of him with fans, random girls in clubs, or women who found him attractive. He was an F1 driver, he was famous, and she couldn’t shield him from the outside world. She swallowed hard, telling herself that if she truly loved him, and if he truly loved her, they would find a way through it.
When she returned, dressed in a fresh tee and shorts, she found him sitting on her bed, having pulled on his boxers. The bedside lamp was on, illuminating the curve of his shoulders, the slight slump as he stared at his phone. He looked up the moment she stepped in.
“Everything okay?” she asked softly, noticing his phone in his hand.
He grimaced. “Max and a couple of the other guys are freaking out because I went off the grid. I told them I needed time to sort this out.”
She nodded, crossing to the bed, settling beside him. “I’m sorry if I caused you trouble.”
He shook his head. “No, don’t apologize for that. They were worried, but now that I told them I’m with you, they’re pretty much leaving me alone.”
She reached for his phone, pressing the lock button so the screen went dark, then set it aside on the nightstand. “You’re here with me now,” she said quietly. “Focus on that.”
He exhaled, nodding. Then his eyes flickered to the faint bruise on her wrist, a small mark she’d gotten from accidentally knocking her hand against a table the day before. She saw him stare with concern. “What’s that?”
She glanced at it. “Oh, that’s nothing. I bumped into something at work. I’m clumsy.”
He lightly brushed his thumb over the bruise, then lifted her hand and kissed the spot gently. The tender gesture made her chest tighten. His gaze moved up to hers, intense. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “for scaring you the other night. I haven’t gotten that out of my head. The way you flinched…”
A wave of guilt crashed over her. “Lando, I said I’m sorry. It’s not you—it’s my own fear. I just reacted.”
“But the fact that you could even think I’d—” He exhaled unsteadily, closing his eyes. “I promise I’ll never move that way again. I’ll be mindful. I don’t want to trigger that reflex or make you think—”
She slid her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. “No. Don’t change how you move or exist in the world,” she whispered, voice thick with regret. “It was my own trauma or fear or something. But I know you’d never do that to me, logically. My body just panicked.”
He nodded, holding her close. “Okay,” he said softly. “But if you ever feel scared, tell me. I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel safe.”
They stayed like that for a long time, arms wrapped around each other on the bed, the soft glow of the lamp creating a cocoon of intimacy. She felt his heartbeat slow as he relaxed in her arms, his breathing growing calmer. She gently stroked the back of his neck, and he exhaled against her shoulder.
Finally, she drew back slightly, looking into his face. “You haven’t eaten, have you?”
He shook his head, giving her a wry smile. “No. I came straight here from the airport, then… all this happened.”
She offered a small smile in return. “I’ll order us takeout. Thai or pizza?”
He shrugged. “Anything you like. Though I’m kind of craving noodles.”
She nodded, picking up her phone from the nightstand, scrolling through her food delivery apps. Within minutes, she placed an order for a selection of Thai dishes. Then she set her phone aside again.
Lando let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t believe we went from screaming at each other to ordering noodles. My head’s spinning.”
She gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, it’s been a rollercoaster.” Her features turned somber as she looked at him. “Do you regret coming here?”
He reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. “Not in the slightest. I want to fix things with you more than anything.”
A gentle silence fell over them, broken only by the hum of the city outside. She cuddled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. Despite the leftover ache, a sense of relief washed over her. He was here. They were together, speaking, touching, and trying to heal.
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t34-mt · 9 months ago
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pilots have had an overall, fun fact. I don't think I've posted about them publicly for a while. freaks from moon sat'tchuckthuck (kyhuine given name in their study of astronomy on altuyur)
22-08-2024 edit: extra colors examples and an actually rendered version (oc)
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you can view the evolution of their design under the cut ->
these have never been posted before because i thought they sucked, and also just because i didn't feel like doing it. several sophonts existences in the solar system are friend-only information atm lol
the first version has been posted on their first post, as much as i still like the mecha design by itself (despite the fucked up leg placement) , i think it should only have a single pilot, and i also don't think there was much thought put behind how people sit in there etc.. So it looks a bit awkward overall. their first design was just a quick doodle i need to draw as fast as i can before i forget the idea, so it's not good LOL. its wonky, very wonky.
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this one is from march 2023, there isn't much change between the two but i still think they're interesting to have in the row. the clothes look awkward, i don't think i thought about how they'd be put on by the pilots, the layering, and so on. what used to be manipulator limbs look award too
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this is when i was trying to make them more fun. i shortened them, made them longer and blabla.. but in the end, they just looked like corgis/ dogs to me and i wasn't satisfied with that. Not that i think sophonts can't look like x earth animal, this is just me wanting to feel satisfied with my own work and not wanting to make dog 2. i don't know the exact date of this drawing, but im assuming its in late 2023
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in may 2024, the current design of pilots was made. funnily enough, it just came to me one day. My brain flashed an image and i tried to draw it as fast as i could. compared to the top drawing the limbs for carrying their youngs weren't finalized.
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the crest changing between every drawing / versions doesn't matter. because their crest changes color constantly to communicate and speak with each others. like a sort of cuttlefish skin effect, i guess pilots can still be fully white. it's just their coat for when temperatures drops. But since their moon is going through an ice age their body keeps is disoriented constantly. Workers who stay outside all year will have a winter coat constantly. But people who work / stay inside all the time are in heated environment, thus their winter coat never start up. and so on with that
heres test of the freak with winter coat ->
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their texture would be horrible, the end bits of their fur is harden, its so thick and packed and feel like velvet. even the non winter coat still feel like velvet
Despite the current design having longer legs, they're still small guys because that's more fun. Pilots are 100 cm (3ft) tall. you can pick them up (they might be sized wrong on the doodle whatever)
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976 notes · View notes
miabebe · 8 months ago
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Camp Seventeen: Chapter 2
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Pairing - Afab!reader x ot13 (Soonyoung x reader x Minghao for this Ch)
Word count - 13K
Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve got crack, smut, fluff , angst, hurt, comfort, all of it in this series, buckle up!
Previous chapter
Chapter summary - As you delve deeper into the world of the demigods, a party throws you spiraling down a road less taken. While it seems there's one member who may be able to help you with it, there's another you want to lend a hand to. And more.
A/n - I do have a taglist so comment on this post to be added! And if you enjoyed reading, please don't forget to leave feedback in the comments or tags - we've got lots of chapters to go and hearing thoughts really helps <3
Smut warnings - I'm trying this thing where I won't be adding any detailed warnings as of now now, I will be including them after 1 week instead! I'm trying to keep the suspense for those who are interested but I understand there might be some of you who are wary of reading certain things - I will be adding warnings for your sake in a week's time! (There are no trigger warnings for this fic though!)
(edited) - Sexual tension phew, fingering (f.receiving), male masturbation, oral (m.receiving), threesome, sub-ish Soonyoung, dom Minghao, slight mlm? (feeding her cum), couple of spanks, unprotected sex (plis refrain), they're kinda rough - she's struggling to breathe, Minghao is mean and a bit of a sadist, deepthroating, edging, marking, hickies, sloppy seconds, they both finish inside her, I think that's about it?
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Today you slept with both the windows and the curtains closed. 
Not just Seungcheol's eagle, even the late morning sun couldn't wake you up, leading to you casually strolling into the dining hall, late in the day. As you walked in, still dressed in your pajamas, twelve heads turned towards you, following your every step. 
Seokmin turned towards Seungcheol who's gaze was fixed on his food, like it was adamant not to meet yours. Hesitating, the former cleared his throat, taking one for the team, questioning you instead.
“You uh….didn't come to train today.”
“Yes, I didn’t.” 
Walking in, you grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and sat as far away from Seungcheol as possible. If anyone noticed the hostility between the two of you, they didn't say anything. Seokmin looked at you like he was expecting to hear more - then he realised that was all you had for an answer. 
“Why didn't you…...” 
“I got wet in the rain last night.” You munched on your fruit. “Felt sick in the morning.” 
A part of you expected at least one of them to have the decency to ask you how you were doing now but all the boys simply exchanged looks. As you frowned at them confused, Joshua finally looked at you. “Demigods don't fall sick Y/n.” 
You blinked. “What?” 
“We're half gods, so uh…. stuff like bacteria and viruses don't really have an effect against us.” 
Suddenly, at that point, the last 25 years of your life made a little more sense - you realised you hadn't ever fallen sick. You also realised that last weekend when you offered to watch a movie with Seungcheol because the two of you were alone in the house, he had declined, stating he had a cold and didn't want to pass it on. 
Of course he lied. All that man did was lie. 
Scoffing, you shook your head. “Of course we don't.”
“Is there a problem?” Minghao narrowed his eyes at you conspicuously. “Any particular reason you couldn't or didn't want to come?” 
Sighing, you shook your head. “It's just been hard getting used to things, I'm trying but-” 
“There's no room for but Y/n.” Seungcheol finally spoke, looking up. “Quest season is approaching and we cannot have a weak link on the team.” 
“Cheol.” Jeonghan cautioned, looking at him just a little sternly. “Enough.” 
Seungcheol stared back at Jeonghan like he wanted to retort but when the latter shook his head at him, he got up, throwing his plate into the sink a lot louder than anyone had expected. 
If Chan hadn’t muttered that the cab was ready to leave, you would have exploded - how dare he? He was the one who hinted at something more last night and he was the one who had left you in the middle of the storm so why was he behaving like this was your fault?? But before you could say anything, Seungcheol and the members going for morning shifts grabbed their things and set out for the day, unusually quietly. As Mingyu began to follow the crowd, you held him by his wrist, 
“Where are you going? You don’t have work today?” 
“Are you keeping tabs on me, newbie?” Mingyu bent down, smirking at you. “Can I consider you interested?” 
“Your schedules are on the white board genius.” You rolled your eyes, letting him go and pointing at it. “We need to talk.” 
Mingyu frowned, both confused and curious. 
“The house Gyu, my house. I have a final plan for it.” 
“Oh! Okay sure let’s go-” 
“Wait.” Joshua stood up shaking his head. “I don't know what's going on with you Y/n, but unlike Cheol, I cannot walk away from what I am responsible for in this camp. You're going to put that fruit down-” He pointed at the plum you just reached for. “-go shower, have a full breakfast and then you can sit with Mingyu and finalise whatever you have to.” 
“But Shua-” 
“No.” He said in a tone that you knew meant that this was not open for any more discussion as he turned towards the man who was stuffing his face with cereal. “And Kwon Soonyoung, why are your sheets still in the dryer?” 
Oh fuck. 
Soonyoung looked at you confused - you had completely forgotten about that.
“I uh couldn't carry them back in the rain last night.” He muttered, drinking the last of his milk straight from the bowl, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I'll take them now.” 
“Why did you need to wash your sheets in the middle of the night?” Hansol frowned at the man beside him sceptical and Soonyoung glanced at you but you were suddenly deeply interested in some random crack on the table surface. 
“I was bored and jerked off.” Soonyoung washed up his bowl, shaking the water off his hands. “It was a good one.”
Hansol groaned disgusted and you looked at Soonyoung scandalised as he shot you a cheeky wink before disappearing out of the hall. A part of you was kind of relieved - you were worried after last night, especially considering what he said as you were leaving. Perhaps you heard it wrong because Soonyoung seemed just as relaxed as ever, like nothing had changed. 
You were thankful for that - now things could go back to like they were before. 
Or could they? Because Jihoon was yet again looking at you like he knew everything
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“This is your final plan?” 
“Yes.”
“Isn't this the first plan you had made?”
“Yes.”
“Y/n,” Mingyu groaned. “If you wanted to do this we could have finalised it days ago.” 
“I told you, I was confused about the whole bathroom situation.” You muttered, tracing mindless patterns over the floor plan. “Let's just make the residence alone. I'll adjust with the common showers.”
“We can still arrange to build a bathroom for you.” Joshua glanced at the papers. “Since we have to divert water pipes, it'll just take a little longer-” 
“No.” You gripped the pencil tight. “I don't want anything that takes a little longer. I want this house made as soon as possible so I can shift to my own space.” 
Your adamance was definitely new but neither boys commented on it. Instead Mingyu pulled out his phone and scrolled through clumsily.
“I need to place an order for the brick and cement and sure Chan has got a decently sized cab but it's going to take a couple of trips to bring the whole load.” He sighed, not looking up. “It's going to take a couple of weeks to get the house ready-”
“No, no no.” You shook your head. This couldn't be happening. “I need my own house as soon as possible, Mingyu….” You looked away rambling as both men frowned. “I'm in my final year, I've uh got projects and submissions to work on. The library isn't well lit enough to study all night and Seungcheol's house is too far from the charging station in the Great Hall, I can't keep making such long trips just to charge my laptop? What if it rains like last night again? What if all my stuff gets wet and-”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Mingyu set his phone down and tried to calm you down. “Though if those are your concerns, you can move into my house. I live close to the Great hall and I have a loft - you won’t have any issues there.”
Oh no. No no. You weren't about to fall from the frying pan into the fire. 
“No Mingyu, what I need is my own space, like every other member of the camp.” You sighed. “And I know it's a lot to ask but I hope we can be done with it fast.” 
“I really wish I could help Y/n.” He looked at you pitifully. “You’re an architect, you know the kind of time it takes to build a house. Maybe if you had opted for something simpler, like a wooden cabin-” 
“Can you build that faster?” 
“I mean we do live in the middle of a forest and I do have automations to cut trees-” 
“How long will a wooden cabin take?”
“A few days.” Mingyu rubbed his chin in thought. “Provided it doesn't rain or-” 
“Do it.”
Both men looked surprised. 
“You're sure?” Joshua spoke up this time. “Wooden homes tend to feel colder, it would also be harder to-”
“I'm sure.” You nodded, gathering the sheets. “I'll have to make a few amendments to the layout then you can start. Meanwhile, why don't you go ahead now with the….. wood gathering?”
Mingyu nodded, stuffing his phone into his pocket, resting his face on his interlocked hands. 
“What're you waiting for Mingyu?” 
“Now as in right now??”
“Yes right now.” You looked at him like it was obvious. “Please.” 
Joshua nodded, signalling Mingyu to leave and grumbling, the bigger man left, much to your relief. Just a few more days. You could handle a few more days with Seungcheol, right? 
“You cannot.” Joshua turned to you. “You cannot survive with a group of people if you don't communicate Y/n. Do you want to tell me what's going on?”
You let out a deep breath considering it for a minute but then shook your head. “It's not worth discussing. I'll deal with it on my own.”
“Well you better do it fast because,” Joshua pulled out a sheet from his bag and slid it across the table to you. “Things are about to get a lot more hectic.”
You were too scared to extend your hand and reach for that paper. Good god, what else was in store for you. 
“Seokmin and Minghao are already covering physical training for you but being a demigod is so much more than just combat - you need to learn about this world, about its people, about the laws that govern it.” He looked at you apologetically. “I've drafted a schedule where the members will cover these different areas with you. Of course you will have time for your own obligations but you will also have to strictly adhere to the rest…..” 
Joshua's words trailed off as your eyes landed on the timetable and the names scribbled on them.
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You counted 12 names, all the members were scheduled to help you except- 
“Wonwoo.” You breathed out. “His name isn't….here?” 
“Yeah…” Joshua scratched the back of his head. “Wonwoo isn't really available for stuff like this, he's got other things to do….” 
Of course he did. He was a top secret government official, he did guard duty at night, he was working on your case too, you could understand that he was busy. 
But what you didn't understand was why he always ignored you. Even earlier when you popped into the showers forgetting that Wonwoo usually washed himself much after everyone, you had in fact, caught him butt naked. 
Any normal person would've covered himself up or at least responded to your small scream, quick turn and innumerable apologies but Wonwoo? He simply grabbed a towel, wrapped himself and walked straight past you into the locker rooms like you didn't even exist, the trademark scent of his perfume the only thing lingering behind. 
“Y/n where are you lost?” 
You shook your head. “I was just thinking about how the bath house would've been more efficient if the showers were attached to the locker room so we didn't have to walk so far in a towel to change.” 
Joshua looked at you like he didn't understand a word you were saying. Or why you were saying it. 
“It's just…. I'm just being an architect, don't bother.” You shook your head then the paper. “Thank you for this.”
“No worries.” He smiled sweetly, getting up, leaving you to your breakfast. “I see your first lesson is History of the Gods. Unfortunately I think Chan is busy with some delivery in the evening so, it'll be just you and Jihoon. I hope you'll attend the lesson earnestly.”
You nodded, giving him a hard smile. 
How were you supposed to last 2 hours with a man who read you like an open book? 
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The darkness behind your closed eyelids was supposed to be comforting. That's why you were lounging in your chair, half asleep while waiting for Jihoon to show up. But somehow, it felt like you were being watched and sure enough when you opened your eyes, the face of your instructor of the day was inches away from you.
“Jesus Christ Jihoon…” You sat up scrambling, pulling yourself away from him. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“You're tired.” He tucked his hands in his pockets walking back. “I was wondering if I should let you rest-” 
“I'm fine.” 
“-but it's strange considering you skipped training and slept all morning, yet you're incredibly sleep deprived.” Leaning back against the table he looked at you amused. “What might have happened last night that exhausted you so?” 
Words refused to leave your mouth considering you didn't know if he was teasing you or actually concerned. Given the last few days you assumed it was the former and ignored him as you began closing all the books you had strewn on the table before you. 
“I see you're doing pre reading.”
“Chan gave these to me before he left for work. He said I should read to understand better.” 
“Did you?” 
Of course you didn't. You were almost snoring away and Jihoon saw that, yet he asked the question like he wanted you to feel embarrassed about the answer. 
“I thought you were supposed to teach me.” You shut the last book and glared at him. “If you just expect me to just read off a book, I don’t see why you’re required here.” 
“Are you suggesting I leave my own class?” He raised his eyebrow amused. “I’m going to have to disappoint you but unlike some, I take what I’m told at camp seriously.” 
You glared at him like you were contemplating throwing the book straight at him and you almost did when he walked around the table, sat down on the chair and cocked his head at you. 
“For someone who is the daughter of Hestia, hospitality isn't really your trait is it?  
“How would I know, aren’t you supposed to be teaching me about this God stuff?” 
“I am.” He nodded, crossing his arms. “But it depends on how much the mortal world has already taught you.” 
“I’ve never really bothered myself with Greek mythology.” You rolled your eyes. “They’re just stories for bored children.” 
“Except they aren’t. They are your reality.” 
“Not by choice.” You mumbled. You did not wish to be an outcast in the only world you knew and thrown here. You did not wish for any of this. 
“Parentage is no one’s choice.” Jihoon sighed. “But to be a demigod is a gift. It’s a shame that you disregard your power.” 
“What power?” You scoffed. “I don’t have any….” Trailing off you gulped. 
That was a lie. 
“I am the Son of Apollo which means I was there at the Court of Delphi when the Oracle assigned you.” Jihoon reminded you of the fateful night.
The night when a couple of masked men had forcibly picked you from your dorm, throwing you into a large room of unknown people and a round crystal in the middle on an altar. No sooner than you took a scared, confused step forward it spoke - Daughter of Hestia, Camp Seventeen. 
“The Oracle only recognises those who have God's blood. So if you’re telling me you don’t have any powers and this is all a mistake, you must think I’m an idiot.” 
“If you’re so smart-” You narrowed your eyes at him. “-why don’t you do that mind reading thing you do and figure out what my powers are?”
“I can’t read minds Y/n,” Jihoon looked at you quizzically. “I’m not Athena’s progeny.” 
“Y-you can’t? But all these days…..” You blinked at him confused. “Oh my god, can Jeonghan??” 
He shook his head. “Neither can Jeonghan. Not all of Athena’s children are mind readers. I’ve only ever come across one in my life and if she wasn’t busy shuffling through everyone’s brain in the quest, perhaps she wouldn’t have been killed.” 
You opened your mouth and then shut it, unsure which of the hundred questions in your mind to ask first. 
“If you really must know, my father is the God of Medicine which makes me a natural healer.” He leaned back with a small smile. “I don’t read people’s minds but their bodies. I can tell when one is sick, or hungry….or even horny.” 
You gulped, feeling your heartbeat raise. Could he tell that too? 
“It goes without saying that a demigod's powers are associated with their parentage. So as the daughter of the Goddess of Hearth and Home, I’m assuming you have some sort of bond with fire.” 
Tightening your fists, you refused to meet his eye. 
It made sense why you never told anyone in the human world about your ability to create fire out of thin air but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone in the demi-world either. 
You had seen the powers the boys had - Seokmin was the son of Posiedon, God of the Sea, but he couldn’t create water, only bend it. And Mingyu? His father was the literal God of Fire and even he was only immune to flames. 
But you, birthing fire from thin air? Something told you that even in the world of demigods, the world where you belonged, you were a freak.
“Or maybe I’m an architect because of you know, the ‘home’ bit.” 
“I don’t think so. Your college preference is pretty much just a personal interest.” 
“Then I guess I don’t have any powers.” You shrugged. “Maybe the Oracle made a mistake.” 
“The Oracle isn’t human. It never makes mistakes.” 
“Then maybe my powers are too insignificant for us to care. I mean think about it - what can the daughter of such a goddess have to offer? I most definitely don’t have anything of value.” 
Jihoon stared at you like he had too many thoughts. 
“Do you know the life cycle of a demigod?” 
You shook your head confused about where he was going with this.
“Not everyone born half breed inherits powers and even if they do, it is dormant until puberty. At the ages of 16 to 18, demigods are at their highest energies which gives them an aura that makes them instantly identifiable - the stronger their abilities, the stronger the aura. After they are picked either by their parents or our scout force, they’re taken to the Oracle who puts them in camp where they will be best suited to train and learn to harness their powers. If a demigod isn’t placed in camp by 18, you best believe that they are dead.” 
“Huh?” You blinked. “Why is that?” 
“Because either the inability to handle their own powers will kill them or in rare cases, monsters.” 
“M-monsters?” 
“There’s always good and bad in the world. Where you have gods, you have monsters too.” Jihoon opened one of the books to a page filled with sketches of the most gruesome creatures you’d ever seen. “Most of our predecessors have already locked up many of these in the Underworld but there are still some out there, lurking around. If they sense an aura and you aren’t trained for combat, you don’t stand a chance.” 
“So you think because I’ve managed to survive the last seven years, on my own and untrained, I am powerful?” You frowned. “Did you consider the fact that perhaps my aura was so weak no one could detect me?” 
“I did. That was my first assumption till the Oracle.” He leaned onto the table. “Even Gods have to touch the orb for a reading but your mere presence lit her up Y/n. Your aura isn’t weak, it’s different and my guess is it has something to do with being Hestia's daughter.” 
You hummed, trying to make sense of things. “Well, did the same thing happen with her other children?” 
Jihoon shook his head. “We don’t know. Unfortunately for us, there are no other known children of Hestia - you are the first ever.” 
You stared at him, letting the weight of his words sink in. 
“I’m her only child?” 
Jihoon nodded slowly. 
If that were true, the whole of last week made no sense. Ever since you had discovered the temple, you had been trying to reach out to your mother every other hour. You assumed she might have been busy or probably had too many places to be to tend to you, but to learn that you were her only progeny and she still didn’t care hurt differently. 
Scoffing sadly you shook your head. “What kind of mother doesn’t care about her only child?” 
“One who is not proud of her momentary lapse of judgement.” 
“What do you mean?” 
Jihoon sighed. “Hestia is one of the three virgin goddesses, along with Artemis and Athena. She’s not supposed to have any offspring, much less one with a human. If anything, you are a walking talking symbol of her weakness.” 
“I am her child-” 
“In theory.” Jihoon emphasised. “But in reality, you’re merely a fragment of her.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
“Humans and Gods don’t mix Y/n. Hell, even humans and demigods can’t.” 
“I’m aware.” 
Jihoon took a pause before he narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “Why and how are you aware of that?” 
“Irrelevant.” You brushed off. “But if what you’re saying is true, how can demigods even come to be?” 
“Because it’s not unlike even the Gods to succumb to lust. At any time they feel particularly attracted to a human they enchant their partners.” When you frowned like you didn’t understand, he sighed and continued. “Enchantment is what we call the process of gods…to crudely put it, possessing people. Taking over their bodies, controlling them.” 
Your jaw dropped. 
“You mean they possess one person to have sex with another???” 
“Well, sometimes it’s just sex but sometimes it is love. They stay on Earth for years together till the lesser gods aren’t able to handle things and they are forced to go back.” Jihoon got up, pacing around the room. “Demigods are born to two human parents who are completely unaware about what happened with them and what their child actually is.” 
“Wow” You breathed out dumbfounded. “You mean to say I have two parents in the Mortal world and one sitting in Olympus-” Jihoon nodded. “-and neither of them care about me?” 
Jihoon looked at you like you had given him more information than he asked for. 
“I can’t speak for your mortal parents but as far as Gods are concerned, they don’t really care about their half human children…… unless they are powerful.” He locked his arms behind his back. “Demigods train for years to become worthy of their parents' attention.” 
“So being a demigod isn’t really a gift after all.” 
Sighing, Jihoon sat down beside you. “You can’t allow yourself to be governed by emotions Y/n. You are the result of a God’s lack of resistance to impulses - those who sit in Olympus have their own flaws. If you run your whole life seeking their validation, you will keep running. They will keep you running.” 
“What do I do then?” You blinked at him lost. “I think I have more than one question I want to ask the woman because of whom my life is a mess. How do I get her to notice me?” 
“Play it smart. First, learn about our world and the things that shape it. Understand how Olympus works - what the God's weaknesses are, what ticks them off, what will bring them on your side.” He turned to you. “If you play your cards right, trust me, your mother will come looking for you in no time.”
Letting out a deep breath, you whispered hesitantly. “Will you teach me how?” 
Smiling in a way that made your stomach turn a lot differently than it used to for Jihoon before, he nodded. “I'd love to.” 
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You didn’t even realise when your supposed two hour session with Jihoon dragged on till after the sun had set. 
By the end of it, you had a book full of notes stuffed in your backpack and a head full of information that your instructor had filled. As you stepped out of the library building, Jihoon offered to walk you back to Seungcheol’s house given it was nightfall and as much as you wanted to continue talking to him, you politely refused. You weren’t ready to face that man just yet but just as you began walking towards the Great Hall to grab a snack or two, your eyes fell on Jeonghan and Seungcheol whispering away near the trees. 
As you skidded to a stop in your path, they turned towards you, both surprised and relieved by your presence. When you noticed Jeonghan nudge Seungcheol making him take a step towards you, you immediately walked back, knocking into someone behind you, earning a shriek. 
“Watch it rookie.” Seungkwan muttered as you apologised under your breath. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a couple of the guys standing fully dressed like they were headed out to a party. 
“Y/n.” Seungcheol took another step, trying to get your attention again. “We need to talk-” 
“I can’t,” You walked over to the boys, placing yourself right in the middle of the group. “I’m going out tonight.” 
“Dressed like that?” Seungcheol raised his eyebrows, looking up to down at a really old t-shirt you had donned over a pair of worn out shorts. 
“Funny that a man who pairs socks with sandals is judging me about my outfit.” 
Behind you the boys snickered, glancing down at Seungcheol’s feet. 
“That’s not my point-” 
“Can you drop my bag in my room?” You looked over the leader’s shoulder at his sidekick. “Since you love roaming around that house anyways.” 
Jeonghan caught the bag you threw to him, sighing as he swung it over his shoulder. 
“Well, that would make a total of eight of us..…” Seokmin looked around, doing a headcount. “Dino’s car can take us all but it will be a bit congested-” 
“I can take my bike.” Mingyu offered, running his hands through his hair. “It’ll be more convenient for you guys and-” 
“Can I ride with you?” You turned to Mingyu, looking at him just a little pleadingly. 
Even though you were on the way to a party, you weren’t in the mood to be stuffed in a small car with a bunch of guys right now - all you wanted was some air and space away from Seungcheol. 
Shooting you a small smirk, Mingyu nodded, just in time for his mechanical bull to jog over, modifying into a slick bike the moment it neared him. As he got on, you followed him, gripping his shoulders as you clambered on. 
“Hold tight.” 
Wrapping your arms around his waist, you glanced at the two boys left behind - Seungcheol’s jaw was tight and Jeonghan looked mildly curious, eyes darting where your body pressed up against Mingyu’s back. You could tell the normally cocky Mingyu did seem slightly tense under your touch, perhaps because you were not wearing a bra and he could feel everything very clearly. 
“Shall we?” He muttered, turning on the engine. 
Sighing, you nodded, a part of you well aware that tonight was most definitely going to be a long night. 
“Let’s go.” 
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“I’ve been to funerals better than this.” 
You muttered to Seokmin about fifteen minutes after reaching the house that the boys had brought you to for the night. Your expectation had been that of a frat party, one with pizzas and chips and dip and booze instead you were looking at a living room filled with pink balloons, rose gold streamers and french appetisers. 
“Wait till Soonyoung’s alcohol goes around.” Seokmin half giggled, grabbing a canape from the table. “Things always get so much fun after that.” 
You watched the man in question pulling out some bottles from his pockets, handing them over to some boys at the corner of the room. 
The moment Chan’s car had stopped at the location, all the boys had practically disappeared. Seungkwan headed over to a bunch of people Mingyu said were some of his very close friends. No sooner than he said that, he too disappeared as did Chan, Soonyoung and Mingao. The only ones who remained by your side were Seokmin and Joshua but just as you stepped into the house, a couple of girls pulled Joshua away, leaving you with your current company. 
“Why do I feel like something about Soonyoung’s alcohol is sketchy?” 
“Maybe because it’s an illegal blend?” Seokmin shrugged before realising what he had let slip. “You cannot tell anyone. Everyone in camp will kill him and Soonyoung will resurrect and kill me.” 
Laughing you shook your head, grabbing a cracker and topping it with brie, stomach rumbling due to the lack of dinner. 
“You don’t have to keep me company Seokmin.” You turned to the man who was sweet enough to stay by your side. “I don’t wanna ruin your night.” 
“It’s no big deal.” He muttered, putting himself between you and a drunk guy leaning over you to grab a drink from the table. “I know you don’t know anyone here-” 
“I’m not looking to socialise anyways.” You confessed, piling a bunch of stuff on your plate. “I’m just going to sit outside and grab a bite in, hopefully, some peace and quiet.” 
“Oh.” Seokmin looked a little upset, like he wanted to hang out with you but before you could tell him that you didn’t mind his company, Mingyu popped by out of nowhere, pulling his friend by the elbow and dragging him away excitedly. Chuckling, you got back to piling your plate. 
“You worked up an appetite.” 
You turned to see Soonyoung hovering behind you, hands tucked in his pocket. 
“Yeah….” You shoved a spoonful of cold but nevertheless tasty pasta salad into your mouth. “Apparently spending three hours learning about Greek gods can really drain you.” 
“Jihoon can be a bit intense with teaching.” Soonyoung laughed, nonchalantly wiping the cream at the edge of your lips with his thumb. “The trick is to remind him about his workout. He'll drop everything and run.” 
“Huh.” You laughed uncertainly before struggling to swallow your bite and turning to him. He stared at you stuffing your mouth with an expression you couldn’t quite read. 
“Soonyoung we…. “ You swallowed. “We didn't get to talk about last night.”
“Oh.” Soonyoung blinked. “What about it?”
About what he said. About if you heard it right. About if he meant it. 
“About if whatever happened was…. of any use with Mina?” You diverted like a coward.
“I uh haven't spoken to her yet.” Soonyoung confessed, scratching the back of his head. “Surprisingly I haven't returned any of her calls.”
“Why is that?” 
“I don't know.” He looked at you intently. “I don't feel like doing it.”
“Is there…” You whispered softly, wondering if you should even be asking this. If you were ready for his answer. “....something else you feel like doing?”
Soonyoung nodded, his tongue running across his lower lip, his eyes darting to your mouth. Just as it seemed like he leaned in, out of nowhere, the most beautiful girl you had ever seen, threw her arms around Soonyoung's neck, pulling his mouth to hers instead. 
“Hoshi.” She mumbled against his lips, pressing her body up against him not so subtly. 
You weren't sure why exactly you were continuing to watch the two people before you shoving their tongues into each other's mouth but perhaps that's how shock worked. Though you didn't have the intention of continuing anything at all with Soonyoung, something about being interrupted this way stung differently. 
By the time they had separated, you had chugged an entire can of beer, crushing the metal in your hand.
“And who might this be?” She looked at you, pushing her hair back. 
“She's the new member of camp seventeen Y/n,” He pointed between the two of you, “Y/n, this is Mina, my uh….”
“Girlfriend.” She smiled, with an unbelievably perfect set of teeth. “So the rumours are true. The infamous all-boys-celibate camp finally has a female presence. Tell me,” Her eyes glowed. “Have you gotten your eyes on any of them? Or even better,” She lowered her voice. “Have you gotten your hands on any of them already?”
You looked at Soonyoung, utterly uncomfortable. 
“Mina, you can’t ask such things-”
“Why not? It'll be between just us girls-” 
“Please.” He pulled her back. “Last I saw you, we broke up and now you just waltz back and-” 
“I know, I know. We never should have broken up in the first place. That whole fight was stupid.” She pouted, wrapping her arms around him tighter. “Forget about it Soonyoung-” 
“Forget about it?” His expression was of disbelief. “So you don't have anything to say to me?” 
She looked away, pretending like she was thinking before turning back to him with a smirk. “Yes, I do. I didn't wear any underwear today.” 
Inwardly groaning you stared at the design of the tile hoping the ground would just swallow you instead. You wanted to get the fuck out of here since this conversation was of no interest to you but moving was impossible with both their intertwined figures blocking the way. 
“Come on Soonyoung, it's been so long and I'm in the mood tonight. The bedrooms on the second floor won’t be free for long.” 
Soonyoung’s adam's apple shifted, his words stuck somewhere there as Mina held him by the wrist and began leading him away. As he was dragged off, you expected him to turn and shoot you a grateful look, instead, he looked at you wistfully. 
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Your plan was simple - stuff your face with all the incredibly bougie food, catch some air in the patio away from all the noise and then leave with the boys whenever they were ready to go. Instead here you were, your plate somewhere unattended while you were gripping the edge of the sink, leaning over it, chest heaving as you stared into the mirror. 
Now you knew you weren’t supposed to be hogging the washroom for this long but you couldn’t bear to go out. One, you didn’t want to see Soonyoung and his girlfriend again - especially if she was going to be all over him like a leech because something about that sight made your stomach turn violently. And two, you were somehow, for no reason at all, incredibly wet.
Perhaps it was because suddenly, everyone in the party was quite literally all over each other, or because you were thinking about what happened in Soonyoung’s residence this time yesterday, or because you were just plain desperate to have something, anything inside you. 
Last night awakened something in you that you didn’t know existed and now nothing seemed to satiate the beast. Chiding yourself for being out here when you could have been in your own room, having your way with Soonyoung’s toy or your own fingers maybe, you gripped the sink tighter, feeling your heart rate rise unprompted. It was getting harder and harder to stay modest. 
The only thing that stopped you from putting your hand down your pants in a house full of sixty people on the other side of the door, was the knock on it. 
“What part of I am throwing up in here do you not- Oh!” You gasped, walking back as the door flung open and in stepped a slightly inebriated Chan. “What are you doing!?” 
“You won’t open the door….” He slurred. “It’s been so long, Seokmin was worried.” 
“How the hell did you open three locks….” You stared at the door as he slowly shut it behind him. 
“My father is the God of thieves. Are you really surprised that I can open any lock and any door?” 
“I guess not.” You muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub. “But you didn’t need to, I was going to come out-” 
“You’ve been in here for over 20 minutes.” Chan crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “I thought you passed out or something.” 
“I wish.”
Passing out would be much better than whatever was going on between your legs. 
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying the party.” 
“I’m not. I’m just waiting for us to head back.” 
“Then why ask to tag along?” He raised his eyebrow. “Does it have anything to do with the hostility between you and Seungcheol?” 
“So you noticed.” 
“I think everyone did.” Chan chuckled. “Do you want to tell me why or should I guess?” 
“Shoot your shot.” 
Chan shrugged all knowingly, “He rejected you.” 
You looked up at the boy before you so fast, you nearly fell back thanks to the inertia. 
“W-what makes you think that?”
“Sons of Zeus and Daughters of Aphrodite have a natural tendency to attract the opposite sex.” He stated like it was obvious. “Seungcheol has women swooning over him like they're in some sort of trance. He doesn't really care for them because he knows it's a mere chemical attraction thanks to his dad. Instead he just ignores them or if things get unbearable, he breaks their hearts so they snap out of it.” 
You knew Chan had to be quite tipsy to so bluntly place you in the list of women Seungcheol had rejected. It wasn't like that was it? Yesterday in the rain, he had hinted his feelings for you, he almost kissed you but….. what about what you were feeling? Was this irresistible attraction you felt towards him nothing but chemical? 
Considering how you had been feeling since Mina wrapped herself all over Soonyoung…. You wouldn't have felt that if your heart was set out on Seungcheol right? 
Then again….. it was Seungcheol’s name that left your mouth as you orgasmed yesterday. 
Staring at the floor you shook your head slightly. You could not think about last night again, not with how soaked you already were at the moment. 
“Hey,” Chan inched closer, putting his finger under your chin, lifting your face to meet your eyes. He did not however notice the way you pressed your thighs together at his touch. His eyes skimmed over the features of your face, a slight amused smile forming on his face. “You’re flushed…. Did you have any of Soonyoung’s alcohol?” 
You shook your head but were unable to shake his fingers from your face. “His blend is not my drink of choice.” 
“Oh gods, please don’t tell me you had any beer.” 
“I think I had two cans…… or maybe four?” You frowned. “I can't remember but I'm not drunk! Beer barely makes me-” 
“Y/n,” Sighing, Chan finally let you go. “Party rule number one, you never drink alcohol at an Aphrodite rager.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because Aphrodite’s children are a bunch of troublemakers. Don’t let their gorgeous faces fool you.” He brushed the hair off your face. “You must think people like Joshua are the finest to walk the Earth, but don’t judge a man without knowing his stories.” 
Joshua? You frowned. How could he be anything but a sweetheart? Soonyoung’s girlfriend maybe was an obnoxious toad but not Joshua. He was flawless. 
“You might as well have drank Soonyoung’s disgusting blend.” Chan muttered. “Why do you think his alcohol sells so well at these parties?” 
“Because his annoyingly beautiful girlfriend is a daughter of Aphrodite?” 
“Yes, but also because only the insane drink the booze served at an Aphrodite party. She may be the goddess of Love but she’s also the goddess of Sex and more importantly, her children are addicted to it.” Chan looked at you just a little worried. “Those drinks are their special concoctions of aphrodisiacs.” 
“A-aphrodisiacs???” 
“Aphrodite, aphrodisiacs - not far off huh?” He shrugged. “I’m not sure if it hit you yet - do you feel anything?” 
“No….” You shook your head. 
The correct answer was hell yes. Everything going on with you suddenly made sense but you couldn't tell Chan that, not him. 
“Are you not feeling unnaturally hot?” He looked at you concerned as he sat down beside you, his body unwittingly brushing against yours. “Doesn't the tiniest bit of proximity rile you up?” 
You didn’t answer him. You didn't need him to know just how much even his presence was affecting you thanks to those stupid sex potions.
“I should tell you beforehand, when it hits, it’s going to be intense but the longer you resist it, the stronger it gets.” You turned to him, only just realising how close his face was to yours. “The only chance you have of getting out of it…. is to give in.” 
Gulping you stared at him. The boy who was always bright, laughing around and cracking jokes like he was an old man was looking at you with unusually darkened eyes, his thighs pressed against yours, your hand inches away from him. 
The only chance you have of getting it out is to give in.
“Chan do you think….” You gulped. “...you can guard the door for a while?”
Perhaps if it were anyone but Lee Chan you would have climbed them by now. Because he was right - the more you tried to control yourself, the more you felt yourself slipping. But not with Chan, definitely not with him. He was far too sweet and innocent to be dragged into whatever mess was going on with you. 
“I might uh need a few minutes alone here.” You mumbled. 
Chan blinked like he didn't understand but when you looked away, wiping the sweat trickling down your neck in a pretty cold room, he seemed like he got it. 
“Oh y-yeah sure.” He got up quickly, not looking at you. “I'll be right outside.”
And with that he scurried out, closing the door behind him. 
The moment he disappeared you smacked your head - you didn't particularly enjoy beer anyways, why did you have to drink it tonight? If you were being honest, it was because of Soonyoung and his irritatingly gorgeous girlfriend and their unnecessary antics right in front of you face- 
No. 
No no no. 
You couldn't be spiralling with these thoughts again. Chan said the longer you resisted, it was going to get worse so you were going to do whatever it took to get this feeling out of your system. 
As you unbuttoned your shorts, you got up and leaned against the sink to avoid seeing your face in the mirror, barely able to meet your own eyes given what you were about to do. Pushing your embarrassment aside considering the need of the hour, you slid your hand past the material of your underwear, fingers feeling exactly how drenched you were. 
“Fucking hell.” You muttered. How was it possible that you were this wet absolutely unprompted and for no reason at all? What the hell was in those concoctions?? 
You thought you could just get off with your own fingers but given how easily they were sliding past your hole there was no way you could do this on your own, especially not here. Annoyed, you pulled your hand out and turned, washing it under the running water, sighing at your reflection in the mirror. Chan was right, you were incredibly flushed, your pupils were blown and the sheen of sweat was very evident - oh it was definitely getting worse. 
Maybe you could go find Mingyu and convince him to give you a ride back to camp. If you could get your hands on Soonyoung’s toy again, you could help yourself out of this. That was perhaps the best thing to do right now. 
Adjusting your hair and your clothes, you gave yourself a determined nod and opened the door, expecting to see Chan but finding someone else entirely guarding the door.
“M-Minghao.” You stuttered as he looked over his shoulder, eyes finding you.
“Party rule number two, never trust Lee Chan to do anything in a party with alcohol.” 
You should have known - he might be your age but Chan was like an overexcited child. And did Minghao just say rule number two? Did that mean he was aware….
“You’re still very aroused.” He smirked as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “I’m guessing whatever you were trying to do in there didn’t work out.” 
You groaned. “I can’t believe Chan told you-” 
“He didn’t.” Minghao shook his head amused. You watched as he ran his eyes from your face down. “He didn’t have to, it’s pretty evident.” 
“I just need to get home and I’ll be fine-” 
“I don’t think so.” He dropped his voice, his wide frame covering anyone from seeing you. “On the contrary, you might quite literally pounce on the first guy you see-” 
“You’re the first guy.” 
Minghao’s eyes darkened as he looked at you wordlessly. Strangely, you felt something shift inside you too - oh god he was right.
“How much longer-”
“There’s bedrooms upstairs you know-” 
”Are you guys done-”  
“No.” Minghao shook his head, silencing the voices behind him as he slid his bracelet off his wrist and hooked it to the door handle, eyes not leaving you even once. “Get in.” 
Surprisingly you obeyed, taking a step back, allowing him to enter as he closed the door behind him much to the disappointment of the many queueing outside. 
“Y/n,” How was his voice so much deeper suddenly? “This is the exact kind of trouble the Aphrodite children are looking for. They want the drama that comes from the inability to control oneself, you’re better than that.” 
“What do you want me to do?” You groaned. “Before you shoved me back in here, I was trying to leave and get back to camp so I can deal with it myself-” 
“The art of war lies in self control.” He slid his arms in his pockets, looking at you just like he did every morning on the training field. “As a demigod, you are at your best when you learn how to control yourself. People misunderstand how this aphrodisiac works - you don't have to give in, it does wear off after a point. Most just don't happen to be able to control themselves till then.”
“Wears off at what point because Minghao, it's been barely 20 minutes since I’ve had those drinks and I’m barely able to get a hold of myself.” 
“Which is precisely why leaving right now is a horrible idea - you don’t have a hold over yourself.” He let out a deep breath. “We can fix it. We can stay here for however long you need and you can let this pass. Consider it a lesson in your training.” 
“We’re training in the middle of a party?” 
“As warriors we’re always training.” He walked past you, sitting on the edge of the bathtub like you had been just a while ago, looking annoyingly relaxed. “Do you think I enjoy these all-pink, snooty french parties? I come here just for the drinks.” 
Your jaw dropped. “Y-you had the beer too?” 
Minghao nodded. 
“On purpose? After knowing what they do?” 
He nodded again.
“Why in the world would you do that?” 
“To practise self control.” He stated like it was obvious.
“By drugging yourself?” 
“A good warrior is one who doesn’t allow himself to be governed by any kind of emotion - lust is usually the hardest to control.” 
“So that concoction has no effect on you?” 
“It's starting to hit.” Minghao looked at you intently as your eyes flickered down to his pants, noticing the bulge. “But I'm not the kind to give in.” 
“Well I think I'm the kind to.” You muttered, throat going dry as you peeled your eyes away. Minghao didn't. “I don't know how to explain it.” You shut your eyes tight, embarrassed of the words leaving you but you knew he might be the only person who understood where you were at. “but I have this feeling like I'm being clawed on the inside, like if I don't have anything in me right this second, I might just lose my mind.”
“I get it.” Your eyes flew open to find him standing right in front of you, his face inches away. “I feel like I'm on the edge of my sanity too but you can fight it.” 
Gulping you looked at the way his lips moved, the vein of his neck stark as was his collarbone peeking from under his shirt. Before this, you hadn’t actually noticed just how handsome Minghao was. 
“l can't.” You whispered, running your eyes over his features. “Can…can you help me?” 
Leaning closer, his gaze hardened. You could see there were thoughts running in that head of his - the warrior was engaged in a battle with himself. 
“Minghao please.”
Grabbing your waist, he spun you around swiftly, trapping you between his hands and the sink, meeting your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. 
“Help you how?” 
You looked at how his mouth was right by your ear and his frame so wide behind you that he was engulfing you merely with his presence. On one hand there were his arms, veins running up them as he gripped the edge of the sink and on the other was the fact that if you just took one step back, you knew you would feel his length pressed against you - both of which were making things exponentially worse. 
“Tell me how you want me to help Y/n.” He muttered, his breath soft against your ear.
“I… you know how-” 
“I was helping. I was telling you what to do-”
“Can't you do something instead?” Knowing exactly what you were doing, you took a small step back, pressing your back against his chest and your ass against his length. “Didn't you say it hit you too?” 
You thought it was a fair enough proposition. Both of you had taken the drink so it was easy to put the blame on it for anything that might potentially happen.
“But I don't need any help.” He shook his head adamantly. “If I help you, what's in it for me?” 
“I'll owe you one.” You sighed. “Whenever, wherever, please Minghao….”
“Remember those words.” He whispered, his hand snaking around your waist to unbutton your shorts, fingers lingering over your skin. 
“W-wait.” You gasped. Though this was exactly what you were expecting when you asked for his help, as it blended into reality, you felt an uncertainty kick in. “W-what if someone opens the door-”
“A door that has the bracelet of Ares on it?” Minghao's reflection raised his eyes amused. “They'd be crazy to.” 
“b-but what if…. I'm too loud or something. Wouldn't we be in trouble?”
“Y/n.” His hand drew back just a little. “Are you sure you want me to….” 
“Yes.” You shut your eyes mortified that just the feeling of him withdrawing his touch was physically painful. “Yes please …” 
Almost instantly Minghao obeyed, his hand snaking past the material of your shorts, just the thin layer of your underwear keeping his fingers away from you. 
“Oh you poor thing, you're drenched.”
You nodded as his hand pushed aside your panties, running his digits along your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, a fingertip prodding your hole ever so slightly. 
“I'm not sure two fingers are enough for you.” He muttered, groaning. “You really want a dick inside don't you?” 
“So bad.” You whispered back. “I wouldn't even mind two of them in me right now-” 
You felt your words die in your throat as Minghao chuckled, slipping his fingers into your wet hole. “Let's start with two of these first.” 
A soft moan left you as you agreed, hands gripping the edge tighter as his digits simply stayed inside you. 
“Look at you.” He muttered in your ear. “Open your eyes and look at yourself.” 
Hesitating you obeyed, catching sight of the two of you in the mirror as his free hand wrapped around your waist, holding you in place against him. Something about the way your small frame fit against his wider one was….nice. 
You wanted to ask him to move his fingers, to give you something but before you said it, he slowly began pumping his digits in and out, burying his face in the dip of your neck. As his mouth brushed your skin, you felt yourself tense around his fingers. 
“So tight. ” He mumbled. “Oh you'd be such a delight to fuck.” 
“Then fuck me.” You moaned as his fingers picked up speed. 
“Tempting.” His voice left him like a low growl as his teeth grazed your skin. “But I'm a man of principles.” 
“Are you sure?” Reaching for the hand on your waist, you led it up your torso under your shirt, guiding him to your tits.  
“No bra?” He half groaned, squeezing it. “What a doll.”
“Don't you want to fuck me?” Moaning you tried to push your ass further against his rock hard self. “Use me and we can both be free of this-” 
“Don't be greedy Y/n.” Contrary to his words, he let a third finger join his act. “Take what I'm giving you.” 
Feeling a lot more full now, you felt your jaw slacken and no words left as both his hands took turns to harshly pump and squeeze, his mouth along your shoulder and neck, leaving painful, stinging marks of red. 
“Faster.” You panted as his tongue ran along your skin to soothe the burn and fingers obeyed, stretching you out just right. Minghao could tell it wasn't enough and his thumb darted to your clit, having you keen in his arms. The moment he curled his fingers up, met your eyes in the reflection and whispered, “cum for me doll.”, all that was building inside you instantly snapped, your orgasm washing over you in waves. 
Thank god he held you up against him because as you pressed your legs, riding out your climax, they began trembling. When your sight became clear and you came around, Minghao slowly let you go but whatever fire was burning inside you was not satiated. 
Fucking hell. 
“You need more?” Minghao chuckled as he took a step back and you turned to him, eyes still hooded with lust. 
“Perhaps just another…” You ran your hand down his chest, unzipping his hoodie, revealing his black tank top. “Finish off the favour.” 
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “As your campmate I did help. But now as your trainer, I'm going to let you get over the rest on your own.” 
“Minghao….” You groaned. If he was going to leave you halfway, he might as well not have done anything. Now you were, in fact, much more turned that you didn't think his fingers could even do the job anymore…..you needed the whole package. 
But like he said, Minghao was a man of principles, he wouldn't give in…. unless you could tempt him enough? 
Humming you looked around. The four walls of this bathroom did not seem like the right place to try and entice him but thankfully, you remembered Soonyoung’s girlfriend mentioning the bedrooms upstairs. 
“Fine.” You agreed, adjusting your clothes and buttoning up while Minghao washed his hands. Perhaps if the two of you found yourself in the proximity of one of those rooms, you could get him to succumb.
As you pulled your hair into a ponytail, Minghao opened the door, holding it for you to leave first but being the girl you were, you wantonly brushed your hand against his erection, pretending your actions were innocent. He stared at you as you walked away from him, stopping only at the edge of the staircase to glance at him before heading up, hoping he was following. 
Pushing through the crowd of people making out and feeling each other up in a way that was far from decent, you glanced down the corridor, slightly surprised. The house didn’t seem so big from the outside but the corridor before you looked endless with dozens of rooms on either side. You walked past them, avoiding the ones with socks on the knobs, knocking on some to receive screams of ‘go away’ and ‘taken’ and opening some unanswered doors to sights you wished you never saw. Half disturbed and half amused you continued to try and find an empty room when the sound of a particular something made you stop your tracks, eyes widening. 
Your name. 
Your name sounding like a strangled moan, repeated over and over, getting breathless with each word.
Gulping, you slowly pushed the door next to you open, both terrified and curious about what you were going to see because a part of you recognised that voice - it was one you heard on camp all the time. 
Sure enough, before you was a large bed, Soonyoung sitting against the headboard, his pants pushed down his thighs and his dick in his fist, pumping it hard and fast. He didn’t seem to notice your presence, his eyes screwed shut as your name continued to spill from his mouth. Of course this wasn’t the first time you were seeing Soonyoung do this but something had most definitely changed since last time. 
When you took a step ahead, letting the door close behind you, the click of it shutting was what finally got his attention, his eyes flying open. Catching sight of you he immediately swore loudly, tucking his length back into his pants, face turning a lot more red than it already was. 
“God woman, how long have you-” 
“Long enough to hear whose name you were saying.” You looked at him guiltily. “Soonyoung, you have a girlfriend-” 
“Mina and I are not together.” He confessed, gulping.”She wanted to but for the first time ever I refused to….” 
“Why?” You whispered, terrified of the answer. Please, please, please. Kwon Soonyoung cannot be in love with you. 
“For the last ten years I thought no one could make me feel the way she did and that’s why the two of us belong with each other but….” He sighed. “I learnt that that’s not true.” 
You blinked at him as he looked at you softly. 
“And you know why it’s not true.” 
“Soonyoung we….” You walked in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened between us was just a favour, one friend to another. How can there be something between us-” 
“I know.” He nodded. “I’m not saying I’m in love with you or something, I…. I myself don’t really know, all this is new to me too.” 
“But what you were doing,” You tried not to glance at his pants where his erection was still very much evident. “That seemed like-” 
“Y/n I’ve only ever been with one woman my whole life who gave me a boner before I turned her down for good.” He couldn’t look at you either. “What else could I really do…..” 
A part of you understood him. You too were incredibly wound for a while now and you knew what it was like to try and fight it - you too had succumbed. In fact you were still not fully rid of the feeling and Soonyoung was right before you, just as aroused. Yesterday could be justified as an ignorant act whose consequences were not expected but if you went through with this today, there was no coming back from it. It wouldn’t be right…..
.
.
.
But fuck it. 
“You didn’t finish, did you?” 
Soonyoung shook his head slowly
Sighing, you kicked off your shoes and climbed on the bed on all fours, crawling towards him as he held his breath. 
“This is yet another favour.” You clarified, more to yourself than him, “Just so you can understand if it's me you want to fuck or just anyone who's not your girlfriend.” 
W-what?” He stuttered as your hand found the waistband of his pants. “We're going to…?” 
“We don't have to if you don't want to-” 
“Yes.” He breathed out, nodding fast. “God yes I want to.” 
Smiling just a little, you pulled his pants down a bit, the way they were when you had entered. His erection sprung out, lying against his shirt, the tip pink and flushed. You were familiar with how it looked, but this was the most up close you had seen it and the first time you touched it as you wrapped your wrist around the base, earning a hiss from him. 
“How long have you been hard?” 
“Over 20 minutes.” He groaned. “Ever since we spoke at the table…. your ass looked fucking good when you bent over the table.” 
“Yeah?” You pumped his length slowly. “You're not too bad yourself. Your abs are hot.”
Almost immediately, without needing to be told, Soonyoung pulled his sweatshirt over his head, tossing it on the floor. 
“Good boy.” Tongue darting out, you licked the precum on his slit, looking up at his blown pupils. “You taste good too.” 
“Fuck y/n, I might just cum right now.” 
“In my mouth?” You cooed. “Not inside me?”
Groaning Soonyoung threw his head back. Honestly, you had no idea how these words were even leaving you - you owed it to both the aphrodisiac coursing through you and also how submissive Soonyoung seemed in your hands. So reactive, so easy to please. 
The moment you took his tip in your mouth, his hand gripped your ponytail, trying to push himself further in. Pulling back with a wet pop, you clicked your tongue. 
“Uh huh.” You shook your head. “If we do this we do this my way.” 
“Do whatever the fuck you want.” He panted, his thighs twitching. “I'm all yours.” 
Although you had some thoughts about that statement you didn't voice them. One because you really wanted to suck him off and two because you heard a voice you knew most definitely wasn't Soonyoung. 
“So this is how you choose to tempt me.” 
Before you Soonyoung froze, eyes looking past you at the door where Minghao was standing. You could tell the man before you was both shocked and embarrassed and wanted to cover himself up but you didn't move to give him room for that. 
“If you're worried about your modesty Kwon, you should know I don't give a fuck.” Minghao leaned back against the door. “I'm only interested in what Y/n has to offer.” 
Soonyoung looked at you confused as you smiled just a little. Oh you managed to crack him and it didn't even take much. 
“Tell him my offer is still open.” You ran your tongue from his base up. “If you’re okay with it too that is.” 
Soonyoung’s eyes widened, finally realising what was happening. You doubted that he wouldn't be okay with it - the man was quite literally falling apart in your hands. 
Sure enough, he slowly nodded.
“From only one woman ever to this overnight?” Minghao raised his eyebrow. “Your girlfriend must've put you up to a really strong dose of those sex potions.” 
“I didn't drink a-any beer.” Soonyoung muttered as you ran your eyes over his face. He was the same as you - pupils widened, face flushed, breath fast and shallow. 
Oh. 
“You're telling me that woman isn't capable of slipping in a little something to entice her boyfriend who won't crawl back to her like he always does?” Minghao chuckled. “Because I think so.”
Well wasn't this ideal, now you could justify everything that was happening - it was simply three people succumbing to the effects of an aphrodisiac - nothing personal, nothing beyond anything physical. Except deep down you knew it must mean something if despite being drugged Soonyoung rejected his girlfriend because of you and Minghao who was a man of impeccable self control was crumbling for you. 
Except he hadn't really yet. 
Deciding to leave the thoughts for another time, you slightly looked over your shoulder at the man who was leaning against the wall. 
“Only my mouth is busy, I have two more free holes you know.” 
You could tell that something about the energy in the room had shifted the moment you said that, like it was only a matter of time before Minghao joined. Sure enough, you heard the lock of the door click behind you and from the way Soonyoung gulped and his eyes followed his teammate, you could tell Minghao had neared. Wrapping your mouth around the older man's tip again, you hummed at the weight of his dick on your tongue. 
“F-fuck.” Soonyoung groaned under his breath. 
As the bed dipped behind you, you knew Minghao had climbed in, finally succumbing, finally giving in. . 
“Is that the best you got?” He chuckled with a deep voice, pushing your knees apart with his own and running his hand down along your back as Soonyoung stared at him wide eyed. “That won't be enough for me.”
You could feel your mouth practically water, drool leaking down the corner of your lips as you took Soonyoung further in your mouth, earning a pained hiss. Minghao though was still not satisfied as he bent over, one hand unbuttoning your shorts, his breath at the shell of your ear, whispering. 
“Take care of my friend and I'll take care of you.” You looked at Soonyoung to see his eyes flickering between the two of you. “The louder he moans, the harder you'll get it.” 
Most definitely motivated, you sunk Soonyoung’s length deeper into your mouth, his tip touching the back of your throat, a deep groan leaving the man as his hand gripped your hair again to hold you back. 
Minghao smacked it away with the shake of a head as he drew himself back, fingers hooking onto your waistband as he pulled down both your shorts and panties in one go, letting it pool at your bent knees.
You could feel your arousal drip down your legs given how incredibly wet you were. A part of you wanted to see Minghao's face but then you would have missed the sight of Soonyoung panting, looking down at you like the mere smell of you had awakened something wild in him. To make things a whole lot worse, Minghao ran his fingers up your slit, playing with your wetness before gathering it on his digit and holding it out to his friend. 
“Want a taste?” 
“Bold of you to assume this is my first time.” Soonyoung smirked as he sucked off Minghao's fingers and you grinned to yourself. Atta boy. 
Minghao chuckled as he pulled his fingers away, smearing the wetness on the cheek of your ass, landing a smack that sent a sharp sting, making you moan around Soonyoung. 
“Barely a week in camp and look at you.” He mimicked his actions on your other cheek, the impact jerking your forward, Soonyoung’s length slipping into your throat. “Good girl.” 
“So fucking good.” Soonyoung moaned. “That mouth is divine.”
“Not more than this.” Cupping the curve of your ass, Minghao dipped his finger into your quivering hole. You keened at the sensation, but didn't stop working on Soonyoung's dick - you knew if you gave Soonyoung what he needed, Minghao would give you what you wanted and god did you want to feel full of him. When you grinded against his hips, his hands left you and you finally heard the sound of Minghao's zipper despite the lewd noises leaving your mouth being much louder. 
“Fuck baby just like that.” Soonyoug groaned as you picked up the speed, making him feel more and more of your throat. 
You still couldn't tell what Minghao was doing, the absence of his touch testing your patience, your teeth accidentally grazing Soonyoung’s dick making him hiss in pain. 
Minghao chuckled, adjusting your body on each knee to pull out the clothes on your lower half and when he aligned himself behind you, you could tell he discarded his own too. His hands returned to your ass which you guessed was faint red, a colour that was exceedingly a part of Minghao's life, a colour he seemingly enjoyed. Although you did want him to rail you into tomorrow, you didn't mind if he took a moment to admire what he saw. 
As though he was lost in thought about the same, Minghao dragged his dick along your folds, his length bumping your clit and sending a jolt down your nerves, before he aligned himself.
“W-wait” Looking at his friend, Soonyoung let out a strangled cry. “She hasn't been prepped-”
“Oh Kwon.” You felt his tip pushing into your needy wet hole. “She's already ready for me.” 
And with that he buried himself to the hilt, the suddenness making you choke around Soonyoung’s length much to the latter's surprise and delight. Barely giving you the time to get a hold of yourself, Minghao began thrusting into you, the force pushing your mouth to take more of Soonyoung, your hands painfully gripping his thighs. The older man, who could have been a little more considerate, also began ramming his dick into your mouth, barely allowing you to breathe. 
You could feel yourself losing a grip on reality, one man fucking you onto another - you never thought you would ever find yourself in a situation like this but here you were, being wrecked on both ends by men who were strangers just a week ago but god did it feel good. 
Minghao bunched the material of your shirt, pushing it up along your spine, as you pulled yourself away from Soonyoung, desperate to get some air before you passed out. He groaned at the loss of your warm mouth but his expression turned fond as you looked up at him, drool running down your chin messily. Considering you looked absolutely fucked out, you didn't get why he was so enamoured as he tucked your hair behind your ear. 
“Shit I could watch you all day sweetie.” 
You wanted to say something back but your throat felt too sore and bruised so you settled on just giving him a sweet smile. Minghao watched the interaction between the two of you intently, his movements slowing down to deep, hard strokes. You could feel him so far in, reaching spots no one ever had before. Not even Cheol’s dildo model. 
“Do you need a breather?”
Soonyoung's concern laced voice was echoed by another one that sounded a lot more condescending.  
“Do you?”
Though you had barely gotten any air in you for so long and your eyes were threatening to roll back, you knew Minghao would only allow you to cum if Soonyoung did and man did the latter have the stamina of a bull. 
Shaking your head you spat in your hand and wrapped your fist around the base of his cock, stroking it. 
“I'm tired.” You muttered. “Fuck me Soonyoung.” 
Forgetting Minghao’s previous instructions to not use his hands, Soonyoung obeyed, gripping your hair again, guiding your mouth back to his cock. 
“Tap me twice if you want to stop.” 
Much to his surprise, you took him in at a whole new depth, making him throw his head back in pleasure as he held your head down, dick getting squeezed down your throat. At the same time the man behind you decided to pay attention to your clit, making you tremble at the combined sensation but there was nothing you could do - you were at the mercy of both men. 
As Soonyoung loosened his grip, allowing you draw back, you barely had the time to catch a breath before he was fucking his dick into your mouth, at the same speed Minghao was ravaging you from behind. 
“Fuck fuck fuck.” Soonyoung groaned as his movements got sloppy and his grip tight. 
“Fuck I'm gonna come.” 
Oh fucking finally. 
But to your complete surprise, you felt Minghao's weight press against your back as he leaned over you, hips not stopping their abuse on your hole, whispering, 
“Enough.” 
Although you knew it was cruel, you immediately tapped Soonyoung’s thigh and the moment he let you go confused, you pulled away, looking at him guiltily as you got on all fours.
“That's my good girl.”
“Xu Mingao.” Soonyoung groaned as the other man drew back. “What the hell?!” 
Minghao simply chuckled. “You know how much I enjoy pain.”
“Sadist.” Soonyoung mumbled, trying to push himself to the edge again, pumping his length slick with your spit, hard and fast. 
“Oh no.” Minghao shook his head, continuing to fuck the living daylights out of you. “If you cum I'm not letting you get a taste of this.”
“That's for Y/n to tell.” 
“Tell him doll.” 
You didn't know how he expected you to answer as he rolled his hips against your ass, hitting all the spots.
“Tell him what you want.” 
“Don't you…” You moaned as Minghao tightened his grip on you painfully. “Don't you want to cum inside me?”
Muttering under his breath, Soonyoung looked at you with eyes filled with lust. You could tell he was leaning to kiss you, but suddenly Minghao's hand wrapped around your neck, drawing you away. 
Sitting on his ankles, he pulled you back till your thighs rested on him and stripped you of your shirt, baring your body to Soonyoung like a mannequin on display. 
“Didn't you say you could watch her all day?” He smirked at the older man, hand snaking around your waist. “Now watch.” 
You finally seem to understand where the shift in intentions was coming from as he began snapping his hips up into you. Though he wasn't hitting you as deep, his fingers found your clit again and was tightening that knot in you unbelievably fast, your body growing hot and tense. 
It was the sound of Soonyoung’s soft sigh that brought you attention back to him as he watched where Minghao disappeared into you with unwavering eyes, fully discarding his pants. When you let out another unholy moan, he looked up, not before his eyes lingered at your tits, his tongue running along his lower lip ravenously. At the sight of him and with Minghao hitting that spot once again, you finally convulsed around him, your orgasm hitting you with an intensity it never had before. Under your grip as tight as a vice, Minghao swore in your ear as he came too, ropes of his release painting your insides. 
It was only when his warmth hit your walls that you realised he had not worn a condom and you had not cared.
Before you could justify to yourself that Demigods probably didn't get STDs and it didn't matter, Minghao pulled himself out, depriving you of his girth to clamp around. With a swift movement that was all a blur to you, he manhandled you around till you felt your back aligning against Soonyoung’s chest, the latter spreading your legs apart, the mixed releases leaking out of you, onto his dick. 
“Just a little longer.” Minghao tilted your head up by the chin, face hovering over yours. “Be a doll will you?”
You nodded as Soonyoung slipped himself into you with a groan. 
“Fuck I don't think I'm going to last long enough anyways.” 
Considering you still hadn't even fully come down from your orgasm yet, Soonyoung's intrusion felt like an intense surge of pleasure shooting up your being. Overwhelmingly, in less than a thrust or two, you found yourself cumming again almost immediately, walls fluttering, tightening around him. 
Muttering a string of fucks, Soonyoung bit down on your shoulder, his hips moving erratically as he felt himself nearing his high. Cooing into his ear though his thrusts were starting to get painful given your sensitivity, you rolled your hips and with two sharp jerks, Soonyoung finally emptied his load straight into you, cumming copiously. 
As he softly held you against him, letting your breaths slowly become regular again, your vision finally cleared and you caught sight of a half naked Minghao before you, watching you snuggled in the arms of his friend. Your eyes ran down, finally catching sight of the dick that had been inside you, lips curling into a small smile. 
“Good?” 
He asked, scanning your features as he slid off the bed.
“So good.” You muttered, beckoning him with your hand. 
Narrowing his eyes confused, he walked around, picking up all the clothes tossed around before he neared you. Pulling him closer to the edge of the bed by the hand, you wrapped your hand around his dick, leaning over to take it in your mouth. As you licked it clean, tasting your mixed releases along his length, you watched his eyes darken. 
“Just wanted to be fair.” 
“You're not satiated are you?” He smirked amused as you slowly shook your head. “Careful doll, you won't be able to stay conscious through another round with us.” 
“I know..” You muttered, snuggling back into Soonyoung’s chest. “I’m tired. Wanna go back.” 
“Let's clean you and get you dressed first.” Soonyoung patted your head softly, unwilling to move as your eyes began fluttering shut. “Hao, open that third drawer under the sink, there's washcloths in there.” 
“And how do you know that?” 
“This is my gir- ex girfriend's room.” Soonyoung muttered. 
That information seemed to surprise even Minghao who was usually quite unfazed. “You're crazy Kwon.” 
He voiced your thoughts as he disappeared into the bathroom, shaking his head. Within seconds he returned, handing a white towel to Soonyoung who slowly wiped you clean, trying not to brush any sensitive areas.
Just as he finished and his lips softly pressed against your temple asking you not to fall asleep, the sound of a knock resounded in the room, along with a voice.
“Anyone from Camp Seventeen here?” 
“Yes.” Minghao and Soonyoung replied at the same time.
“Someone is here looking for your team. Says it's code yellow.” 
You watched as the boys shared looks, panicked. Slowly pulling himself away from you, Soonyoung caught the clothes Minghao threw to him, the two of them moving quickly to dress themselves.Pulling your hair into a neat ponytail again and trying to ignore your aching body, you swung your legs off the bed.
“What’s going on?” 
“Get dressed.” Minghao handed you your clothes, looking tense. “When a team member calls a code, it means everyone needs to gather immediately.” 
 You nodded, half understanding as you began to dress yourself. “But what's code yellow?” 
Looking at your shivering self, Minghao threw you his hoodie, which you slipped on, letting it envelop you in its warmth. 
“Yellow is a moderate danger alert.” Soonyoung held the door open for you as Minghao stepped out. “It most likely means the camp is under attack.”
Oh fuck. 
Pushing through the crowd, you followed the boys downstairs, trying not to lose them in their hurry. Noticing you lagging behind thanks to the fact that you were struggling to walk, Soonyoung grabbed your hand, wrapping his hand around your wrist. 
From the corner of your eye, you saw Seokmin and Joshua laughing away with a group of girls but before you could call them along, you were dragged away in the urgency of the boys you were with. As you reached the front door, coming to a halt right behind Minghao, your eyes fell on the familiar back of a man leaning against the frame. 
Oh no.
“Chief.” 
Seungcheol turned as both boys bowed, greeting him. 
You simply stared wordlessly, as the blonde man's eyes found you, flickering from the jacket you had donned, to Soonyoung's hand which was still holding yours. 
Behind him lightning cracked opened the sky and rain began pouring furiously. 
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Chapter 3
a/n - please send me your thoughts - this series is waaaay out of my comfort zone, I need to know I'm not completely messing shit up and if I missed you in the taglist, please lmk! Also please be patient for chapter 3 - I have to temporarily shift focus to my other stories as well, I will be back here soon!
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teapartyprincess4two · 1 year ago
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Collab- J. Guilbert
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pairing: influencer!reader x Johnnie
classification: fluff
warnings: use of y/n, fake relationship, coquette!reader, slight cursing, brief mentions of Johnnie’s ex (just for the plot), Jake and Tara are dating in this
summary: You and Johnnie pretend to date, faking it for so long that it became real.
When you first began recording and posting YouTube videos you were only 16 years old. You were just an emo kid trying to make friends on the internet and trying to find people who could relate to you. Eventually, when you turned 18, your videos began gaining a lot of attention. This was the beginning of your YouTube popularity, your views skyrocketing dramatically. Soon you were collabing with other YouTubers who were in the same community as you. Through this you met so many new people, including Johnnie.
You met Johnnie at the peak of his emo boy career. He was posting regular videos and vlogs alongside his girlfriend at the time and the three of you became good friends. Your fans began asking for more videos of you all together, so you would constantly collaborate in order to keep the views coming in. Eventually, you developed a true friendship with Johnnie and his girlfriend so, when the views dropped and your fame disappeared you still continued hanging out.
After a couple of years, Johnnie and his girlfriend broke up and although you were friends with them both, you remained close to Johnnie due to your shared career paths. Years passed where you two were just friends who occasionally collaborated to create content for your loyal viewers. Because Johnnie’s now ex-girlfriend was no longer in the picture, those loyal viewers began shipping the two of you together.
At first you didn’t address it because it was weird and it would make you two incredibly uncomfortable, but eventually you decided to play into the speculations and rumors. At this point you were no longer emo, trading in your dark clothing for a much softer look. Your contrasting aesthetics and the ‘confirmed’ speculation that you two were dating caused your views to skyrocket once again. Johnnie was skeptical of this decision at first, seeing as his last relationship was completely public and on the internet, but once he saw the views it was easy to play along.
Through this decision both yours and Johnnie’s channel had a resurgence, allowing you to meet all the current friends you two hold close. Up until this point, your fans haven’t suspected the truth, even most of your friends haven’t figured out that your relationship isn’t real. Of course there were a few skeptics, but for the most part everyone believed it. Your fans continued making edits and commenting about how much they love you two together while your friends wish they could be in a relationship like yours.
You two are now 26 years old and have been playing this game for 2 whole years. Although you haven’t admitted it to your fans yet, some parts of your relationship have become real. You and Johnnie eventually moved in together, just to make your careers easier and because you two truly are best friends now. Plus, you were too far into your lie to back out now.
You’re currently sitting on the couch of your shared home, snuggled up under a thick blanket as you scroll through Netflix on the TV. Johnnie is sitting on the other side of the couch, scrolling mindlessly on his phone while he waits for you to pick something. It was easy to get caught up in small moments with him like this and forget that your relationship isn’t real.
“What about this show?” you ask, hovering over a random show and allowing the quick trailer to play on screen. He looks up from his phone briefly, watching the trailer on the TV. It was an action movie, a genre that you two didn’t make a habit of watching. He looks unamused and returns back to his phone, but not before moving closer to you and snuggling up under your blanket.
“Put something good, bro,” he mumbles as he cuddles into you. You adjust yourself slightly so you’re comfortable, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly. Sometimes you wished it was real, that even when the cameras weren’t rolling or you weren’t with friends you two could be a couple. Sure sometimes you’d share clandestine kisses when no one was looking, but you always called those friendly kisses. They didn’t mean anything right?
“I’m trying to find something, but nothings good!” You exclaim, continuing to scroll through the endless queue of movies. He shuffles under the blanket as he pulls it closer to his chest before dramatically taking the remote from you. “Here this is good,” he says haphazardly as he clicks a random movie on your watch list. You were about to protest, but you’ve actually been wanting to watch this movie for a long time. So, instead you just cuddle up closer to him and decide to enjoy this moment.
The movie was actually extremely boring and you fell asleep before the main storyline was even introduced. Johnnie ended up leaving to his room once he realized you were asleep, a part of him wanted to stay, but he promised his fans a Twitch stream tonight.
He’s currently in his room talking to his fans, singing songs they request, reacting to videos they recommend, and answering a lot of questions. “There’s so many people in here I actually can’t even read this shit,” he grumbles as he squints his eyes at the computer screen in front of him, attempting to catch at least one comment. There’s a brief pause as he finds a comment worth replying to.
Finally he catches a comment, reading it aloud instantly, “Where’s Y/n? She’s asleep in the living room. She fell asleep watching the most boring movie ever.” At the mention of your name the comments went even crazier, flooding his chat at lightning speed. “Dude, everytime I mention Y/n my chat goes crazy,” he chuckles as he messes with his settings to slow his chat down.
When his settings are in order, he continues reading, “What movie was it? Umm I don’t know actually, I just picked the first one on her watch list.” So many of the comments were asking for him to wake you up, the fans becoming desperate for more Johnnie and Y/n content. “Guys, stop telling me to wake her up. I’m not going to wake her up. She’s dead asleep, you’ll just have to wait for our next video,” he says, quickly dismissing the fans who were spamming his chat.
“What are you filming?” Johnnie reads before taking a sip of the soda can on his desk. He debated whether or not he should spoil the video, but considering it was a video he did often on his channel he decided to just let the fans know. “We’re switching aesthetics. She’s going to dress me all cute and pink and I’m going to make her look like this,” he gestures to himself with both hands. He was actually dressed very casually and didn’t have any makeup on, but nevertheless his look contrasted significantly from yours.
Even with the adjusted settings the chat is still going crazy, especially after he announced what video you all were filming. “Yeah we’re filming it tomorrow I think,” Johnnie says as he continues reading comments, a lot of them wanting to know exact details about when the video would be posted. “He called her aesthetic cute,” he reads, the comment immediately putting a smile on his face. Of course he called your aesthetic cute, if Johnnie thought you were cute then he surely thought the same of your aesthetic.
“She’s my fucking girlfriend guys, of course I’m going to call her cute,” he continues, a big smile on his face. The fans were definitely going clip that and edit it. Sometimes the word girlfriend still felt foreign, especially considering that your relationship isn’t real, but he loves saying it. Everytime he says it it feels so real. He continues reading comments, all of them asking questions that he’s already answered. It’s easy for him to become bored with his chat so, to keep the stream going, he decides to react to some videos.
“Do Jake and Johnnie bingo,” he reads, immediately knowing that all the comments were going to agree. He doesn’t fight it, instead he pulls up a YouTube video and his digital bingo card. This would make a great YouTube video too, so that’s a plus. He plays two rounds of bingo, filling the card up both times, before deciding he’s done streaming for the night.
He ends the stream and decides to check on you in the living room. You’re still sound asleep, the blanket up against your neck as a make-shift pillow. He smiles at this and decides to join you on the couch again, lifting the blanket slightly so he can cuddle up against you. The sudden movement stirs you from your sleep. “Is the movie over?” you ask through a yawn, subconsciously moving closer to Johnnie in the process.
“Yeah it ended like 4 hours ago,” he replies, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you in closer. “How long was I asleep?” this time you sound more awake, the realization of how long you slept sobering you up a little, but you’re still very drowsy. “Like 6 hours,” he says nonchalantly with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Was it good?” you ask again, another yawn escaping your lips. “Oh yeah, it’s was great,” he lies, smiling down at you and kissing you quickly before joining you for another nap.
These were the moments you wished were real.
The next morning you wake up bright and early in your room, having made your way to your bed sometime during the middle of the night. Johnnie followed you, missing your presence as soon as you got up from the couch. He was still asleep when you woke up and you knew he wouldn’t wake up until much later in the day.
You get ready for the day and go into the kitchen to start breakfast. Once you’re enjoying your meal, you pull your phone out to check your socials. Your Instagram is pretty dead, Twitter is worse, and YouTube has a few notifications of comments and likes left on videos. It isn’t until you open TikTok that you see where all your fans were hiding. Your TikTok was going crazy with comments, likes, and so many people were tagging you in videos. There seems to be a new edit that people are going crazy about.
The edit starts off with Johnnie in his room during last night’s stream, “She’s my fucking girlfriend guys, of course I’m going to call her cute.” Then it transitions to a bunch of cute clips of you two together, most of them being candid moments caught on camera where you were just being Y/n and Johnnie. The sappy love song plays on loop as you rewatch the edit, pausing during certain clips to admire them further. You and Johnnie looked so happy in every single video and if you didn’t know any better, you might think it was really too.
You read the comments on the video that were flooded with fans obsessing over your relationship, they made you smile. You’re stuck in a trance of reading and liking comments, but are interrupted by a loud knock on your front door. You only knew one person bold enough to visit you so early and knock so loudly, Jake.
You get up from the table and walk over to the front door, opening it abruptly to find the one and only culprit. Jake and Tara stand on the other side of the door with goofy smiles on their faces, holding all types of stuff in their hands including bags of food, drinks, and other random things. Much like you, they’re dressed and ready to take on the day.
“Brought you this,” Tara says as she hands you an iced coffee. She smiles at you before making her way inside, Jake following behind her. If they weren’t over at your house all the time you might’ve found their abruptness rude, but they were some of your best friends so their unwarranted arrival was welcomed. “Where’s Johnnie?” Jake asks, placing the bags of food on the kitchen table and searching through them.
“He’s still asleep,” you shut the front door, taking a sip from the coffee Tara brought for you. It was caramel, your favorite. “It’s only 12, he’ll probably wake up at around 2,” you comment again, going back to your previous seat at the kitchen table. Everyone in your friend group was an early riser except for him, so you were used to hanging out with Jake and Tara alone.
“Girl, did you see that edit on TikTok? I keep getting tagged in it,” Tara asks as she takes a seat next to you. Jake hands her her food and continues digging through the various bags in front of him.
Out of all your friends Jake and Tara were the only ones who knew the true nature of your relationship with Johnnie. It was easy to figure out, plus Johnnie accidentally drunkly confessed it to Jake one night. Johnnie was so drunk he didn’t remember admitting it the next day, but Jake went on to tell Tara who couldn’t help herself from asking you for all the details.
Of course, Jake didn’t fully expose Johnnie’s secret to Tara. He purposefully left out the part where Johnnie admitted to actually being in love with you. And when Tara asked you about it you admitted the same thing, but knowing her gossiping tendencies she actually told Jake. So, Jake is the only one out of your friend group who’s aware of yours and Johnnie’s secret feelings for each other.
“Yeah I saw it. It’s a cute edit,” you reply with a shrug, taking another sip of your coffee. You weren’t ready to admit that you just watched it on loop for 20 minutes before their arrival. “I don’t know how you do it. I could NOT fake a relationship for that long,” Tara comments again, taking a bite from her breakfast sandwich. “Seems like a lot of work,” Jake chimes in with a mouthful of food.
At this point, even you didn’t know how you two did it. It was easy at first to only pretend when the cameras were rolling. But, after a while the lines got blurred and you couldn’t even distinguish between reality and fantasy anymore. You found yourself questioning every single thing Johnnie did, trying to decipher whether or not he felt the same as you did.
You were about to respond to her, but the three of you are alerted of Johnnie’s presence as he opens the door to your room abruptly. He sends you guys a sleepy, grumpy glare before walking to the restroom. The three of you share knowing looks, Johnnie’s definitely grumpy because you all woke him up.
Johnnie appears from the bathroom a couple minutes later, grumbling a quick “good morning” to Jake and Tara before walking over to you. He knows he doesn’t have to pretend in front of them, but he can’t stop himself from acting like he’s really your boyfriend. “Why did you leave?” he mumbles lowly as he sits next to you. He looks so cute right now with his hair all messy and a bare face, you just want to plant a big kiss on his lips.
“We all can’t wake up at 12pm,” you reply playfully. You take a sip from your drink, using it to occupy your lips so you don’t kiss him. “Whatever,” he replies. Johnnie is the one who bites the bullet and leans in for a small peck. The kiss is quick and subtle, but it’s enough to hold you over for another couple of hours. His touch has easily become an addiction for you.
“We’re literally right here!” Tara says dramatically with a fake gag. “You don’t have to make-out in front of us. God!” she continues. A blush creeps on your face because the kiss really was unnecessary, especially if Jake and Tara know you two aren’t actually dating. Under circumstances like that, even the smallest peck seemed like a big deal.
“Tara stop. She’s his fucking girlfriend, of course he’s gonna call her cute,” Jake jokes, quoting Johnnie’s now infamous Twitch clip. “I actually hate you guys,” Johnnie says with a blank stare as he gets up and walks to his room.
When Johnnie is out of earshot Tara asks another prodding question, “Wait girl, are you two sleeping together?!”
When Johnnie was finally ready for the day, the two of you sat down to film your long awaited aesthetic-swap YouTube video. You introduce the video briefly because most of your viewers dont need the long introduction, they know every and anything there is to know about you. Well, except that you’re hiding a big secret from them.
“Today Johnnie and I will be swapping aesthetics. How does that make you feel, babe?” you look towards Johnnie, a big smile plastered on your face. “I’m fucking scared honestly,” he replies, messing with his hair anxiously. He’s done this video a thousand times with so many different people, but for some reason he was extremely anxious.
“Why? You don’t trust me?” you ask playfully with a fake pout.
“I do trust you, but what if I look dumb as fuck? Actually, what if I look good as fuck and then I never wanna be emo again?”
“Emo is a disease you can’t escape,” you say jokingly before clipping his hair out of his face, pushing his hair back gently. “Wait are we starting already?” he asks, loving the feeling of your gentle touch.
“Yup.” You stand from the bed, adjusting yourself so you’re right in between his legs. The two of you are positioned perfectly, the camera catching everything from the knee up. Once you’re in between his legs he instinctively moves his hands to hold your thighs right under your butt. You don’t shy away from his touch, instead you begin his makeup.
“That feels nice,” he comments as you massage moisturizer into his face, the cool temperature of the cream calming him. You hold his face in place gently, locking eyes with him briefly as you peck his lips quickly. He smiles up at you, he could be here with you forever.
The makeup brushes dance along his face as you work towards replicating your makeup routine on him. The two of you only engage in light banter throughout the video which fills the atmosphere with a calming energy. Whatever anxiety Johnnie felt towards the beginning of this has completely dissipated and honestly he forgot you two were even filming. He’s lost in a world full of thoughts of you.
“Almost done,” you whisper in concentration as you line his lips. He looked so pretty right now, the makeup contrasting his everyday look drastically. “Do I look sexy?” he asks jokingly, chuckling at his own attempt at flirting. “Always,” you reply, only half joking. You make the finishing touches on his makeup, dusting away the powder on his under eyes before grabbing a hand held mirror for him.
Once he takes a look at himself in the mirror his mouth goes completely agape, he would actually fuck himself right now. “Oh my God, I do look sexy,” he gasps, admiring himself for all angles.
“Kiss me, I’m so sexy right now,” he puckers his glossed lips out for you, pulling you in closer by your thighs. You laugh, taking his face gently in your hands and planting a kiss on his sticky lips.
The atmosphere completely changes when it’s Johnnie’s turn to do your makeup. There’s an air of chaos and nonstop laughter surrounding you both, especially because Johnnie is using all of his crusty makeup products on you.
He stands in the same position you were in with a firm grip on your face as he attempts to evenly spread your foundation. “Johnnie that beauty blender is rock solid. It literally hurts,” you laugh as you attempt to wriggle away from the sponge, his hand pulling you back gently each time. He sees the opportunity for a joke and takes it, “that’s what she said.” His eyebrows wiggle jokingly as he stares at you, causing you to burst out in laughter.
“Never EVER say that again-” you’re cut off by him patting the makeup sponge all over your mouth. You chuckle through tight lips, feeling as he blends fhe makeup down to your neck and then up again on your forehead.
“You look like you’ve never seen daylight. So…perfect,” he comments blankly, stepping aside so you can look at yourself through the camera. You’re so pale it’s shocking, your hand cups your mouth in disbelief. Being this pale immediately took you back to your emo phase. You swoop your hair in front of your face briefly and burst out in another fit of laughter, “dude look at me!”
Johnnie looks up from his array of makeup and sees your makeshift emo hair, laughing also. He stumbles back slightly from the laughter, reaching out for you to keep him steady. You let go of your hair and hold onto his hands, laughing equally as hard. Your hair is now on your face, causing Johnnie to laugh even harder, “you look terrifying right now.”
The rest of the video goes like this, just the two of you laughing uncontrollably at how ridiculous you both look. Johnnie packs on the black eye shadow onto your eyelids, instructing you to close your eyes so he can smudge it everywhere. Lastly he teases your hair, using one of his hairspray coated combs. By the end of it, you two look unrecognizable.
“Okay guys it’s time for the grand reveal,” you speak from behind the camera. You and Johnnie changed your outfits to fully immerse yourself in the other’s aesthetic. He’s wearing a pink top, a white skirt, and knee high socks from your closet. You, on the other hand, dug through your archives for one of your old emo outfits. You’re completely decked out in a studded belt, a multitude of bracelets, and black jeans so faded they looked gray.
The two of you walk in front of the camera, doing a twirl for dramatic effect. You actually felt ridiculous, mostly because this was a look you weren’t accustomed to anymore.
Johnnie was feeling himself and was posing dramatically for the camera, “my ass is so fat in this skirt.”
Originally you two were going to film the video and then wash all the makeup off, but Jake suggests that you two stream in public for your fans. The idea was funny, but also a little nerve wracking. Johnnie didn’t mind it, he was used to doing embarrassing things on camera for views.
So, now you’re at the mall dressed as an emo while Johnnie follows behind you in the girliest outfit from your closet. So many people were staring at you both, they probably didn’t see stuff like this everyday. The comments on your stream were going crazy, most of them gushing over how good Johnnie looked in makeup. Your OG viewers were commenting about the nostalgia they felt seeing you dressed like that again.
“Guys we’re going to the food court, Johnnie wants Panda Express,” you comment to the camera, holding it so only your face is in view. “A girl’s gotta eat,” Johnnie chimes in from beside you with a silly voice, adjusting his skirt that keeps riding up. “Johnnie is finally understanding how it feels to be a girl. Every guy here keeps looking at him. They definitely want you, babe,” you look up at Johnnie who’s looking directly at the camera. He pulls a goofy face and replies with a silly voice, “I’m irresistible.”
After eating you walk around the mall, entering random stores and buying useless stuff to try in future videos. You even run into a couple of fans along the way, all of them gushing over how different you two look. Most of them ask for pictures, greet your stream and ask for an autograph.
After the tenth store, you and Johnnie decide you’re tired and end the stream. Finally when you two get home you wash off the makeup and take a shower to wash out the pounds of hairspray in your hair. You’re now sitting on your bed editing the video from earlier today. Johnnie enters your room unexpectedly, his hair wet from the shower.
“Hi,” he greets quietly as he crawls into your bed, he cuddles up next to you under the covers. “Hi,” you respond, adjusting your laptop so he can see what you’re doing. As you edit the video you can’t help but notice how in love you two actually look, it looks so real. It gets you thinking about how it would be to actually date Johnnie, not just when the camera is rolling.
“Johnnie?” you ask tentatively, scared of what you are about to say. He hums in response, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “Do you ever wonder how we do it?” you ask again, clicking various buttons on your computer as you continue editing. He’s confused, “do what?”
“You know, act in love for the cameras.”
He looks up at you again, this time with more attention, “Um I don’t know.” This was a topic the two of you avoided like the plague, mostly because it reminded you that none of this was real. “Tara mentioned it today, that’s why I’m asking,” you comment, attempting to deflect. The only sound in the room is the clacking of the computer keys.
“I mean, what is stopping this from being real?” you finally ask, watching as Johnnie shifts away from you. You think that maybe you said something you shouldn’t have, “Sorry. Forget I said anything.” Your face is red with embarrassment, had you just messed everything up?
He ignores your apology, “it’s been real for me.”
His voice is low and quiet, he isn’t meeting your eyes. You shut your laptop, throwing it towards the edge of your bed. Gently you grab his face so he can meet your gaze, a big smile on your face. Now he’s the one who looks embarrassed, he looks like he just admitted his crush to someone who doesn’t reciprocate the feeling.
“For me too,” you admit shyly.
His frown is replaced with a smile at your confession. The two of you lean in slowly to kiss and even though you’ve done it millions of times before, it feels like the first time.
“Guess we don’t have to announce it,” he jokes, earning a playful slap from you. It was true though, you two were going to go back to normal after this, but this time it would be real.
MASTERLIST
A/n:
Had to try a Johnnie story. Kkkk byeeee
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
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sweetestcaptainhughes · 9 months ago
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ring camera chronicles - Nico Hischier
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Word Count - 1700
Requested - Yes
Author's Note - Even if someone requests it I think this will be my last ring camera type fic. I am someone who hates reusing ideas for different players, and it was really hard to come up with 7 original ideas for Nico. But anyway enjoy and thank you for reading.
Warnings - none
Summary - Seven times that Nico's and your ring camera caught cute 'mundane' moments between you both.
Masterlist
Being Nico’s girlfriend naturally meant that you sort of organized lunches with the other wags and tried to keep up to date with them. At first you hated it because you weren’t an influencer, you had a normal job and being a planner wasn’t part of the job. But after a while you did become close friends with a few of the girls including Jack’s girlfriend. Who was now sitting across from you as she updated all of you on her latest mess with having a ring camera. All about how she didn’t want Jack to catch her having all these packages so you went to sneak them in, and got Nico and Luke to help her. Only to find out in the moment that she actually used Jack’s card and he really didn’t seem to care. The entire table was crying in laughter, especially when you mentioned that Nico was still a little salty about it 2 weeks later. Luke’s girlfriend went on to say how much she loves having her ring and how it catches so many cute mundane moments that people tend to forget about, plus it was fun to mess with her boyfriend. Deciding in that moment that you also wanted a ring doorbell to be able to mess with Nico, all you had to do was convince Nico. 
Once you got home you shyly mentioned to Nico, “ hey Neeks I was thinking why don’t we get a ring camera?” He doesn’t even look up from playing with your puppy and says “okay.” 
“Wait really?” The shock is clear in your voice. 
Still playing tug-a-war with the rope toy and currently losing, he answers “ yeah if you want plus it makes sense I mean I have one at home for our other flat it makes sense to have one for here. Especially since we are out of the country for 3 months a year.” 
“Wait, there is a camera for your place in Swittsland?” Generally shocked that you somehow didn’t know this information. 
“Yes. Did you think I didn’t have cameras if I only lived there 3 months a year? Anyway I’ll order some tomorrow.” As he gets up, and kisses you on the head before he goes to the bedroom to get ready for the gym, leaving a hyper puppy who wants to play and a shocked girlfriend behind. 
1.) One last thing
It’s something neither you nor Nico even realized that you did. But when it came to those roadies that he would leave the apartment for, rather than you drive him to the airport. Somehow whether it was 5 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon, you always would run out the apartment and almost tackle him for one last hug before he would leave. Snuggling your head into his chest. He would snuggle into the crown of your neck and you would whisper something about having safe travels and good luck. It didn’t matter if the roadie was for a weekend or two weeks you always ran out of the apartment calling after Nico saying “one last thing” before you tackled him for your hug. Once you got a ring camera you noticed and you asked your videographer friend to edit all the clips together so you and Nico could keep it and watch it back.
2.) I”ll always got you
“Baby, are you sure you wanna wear those shoes?” Nico asks as you both get ready to leave to meet the rest of the team and their significant others done the street at the local bar. 
“Yeah, why aren’t they cute?” as you check your outfit one last time doing a twirl in the mirror that’s in your little makeshift foyer of your apartment. 
“I’m not saying your new shoes aren’t cute, they just aren’t broken in and I don’t want your feet to hurt later.” He admits coming and wrapping his arms around you. 
“But their sneakers.” you whine. 
“Yes sneakers meant for fashion” he argues. 
“Says the man who wears Jordans when he goes hiking.” To which he gives you a knowing look and you don’t want to get into the fact he’s “built differently as a European.” Even if it’s 100 percent true because that evaluation ain’t meant for the weak even in the cities. 
“I’ll be fine.” you whisper as you both exit the apartment. He jokingly looks at the ring camera and says “you got that right she will be fine.” 
Now a few hours later, the ring camera picks up you guys coming home and you were in fact being carried by Nico at this point. A very sweaty and out of breath Nico. In your tipsy state all you could do is laugh as you attempted to unlock the door, at Nico literally hands on knees trying to catch his breath. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be a professional athletic Neeks.” 
“Professional athlete does not mean I should carry a very tipsy girl who wouldn’t stop shifting her weight almost a whole kilometer home and not be out of breath.” he counters and all you can do is chuckle finally getting the door unlocked. Nico looks directly at the camera and says “I just wanna state for the people, that she was in fact NOT FINE with those shoes.” 
“Neeks what people only we have access to the footage.” you giggle.
He rolls his eyes and although you’re not sure what he said you know he cursed at you in Swiss German under his breath as you both stumbled into your apartment.
3.) Baby it’s here!
Nico came up from the mailroom with a giant package in his hands. He's so excited he rings the doorbell even though he knows your at work because the care package finally arrived. 
“BABY IT’S HERE!” not caring how loud he sounded to his neighbors. “Ooo I am so excited I know she set some of my favorite Swiss chocolate and other candy too.” Nico had the biggest smile on his face, you swear when you watched it back on your break he looked more excited then a toddler waking up on Christmas morning to see what Santa left him. 
Deciding to text him to tell him not to eat too much before dinner even though you know there is really no point because, when it came to candy from home and Nico he will always eat as much as his sister is willing to send in one sitting
4.) Are you alright?
Nico gets a notification while he is away on a roadie for “movement in front of camera.” Since he was already dressed and ready for practice he decided to check the notification. He noticed it was you coming home at an earlier time than normal and you didn’t look good. Immediately he’s Facetiming you in the locker room, making sure you have everything you need and even doing a Doordash CVS order to your apartment with a bunch of different flavors of gatorade and Mucinex. Nico has his full pout because he is very worried about his girlfriend who is getting sick and the fact that he is 2000 miles away. 
5.) You didn’t see that
 After being exhausted after a long day of work and running a bunch of errands. The last thing you wanted to do was make multiple trips down the elevator to the parking garage to get all the groceries, your work bag, your lunch box and purse. Of course as soon as you pass the mailroom you see that you received a few Amazon packages. Again deciding one trip was better than multiple you somehow balance the boxes and make your way to the elevator. But of course as soon as you get to the front door as you're trying to reach for your keys to unlock the door everything tumbles. Without even thinking you deadpan to the camera   “ you didn’t see that.” But then you wince because of course you hear Nico’s loud laugh through the ring microphone. Of course in that exact moment he decided to check to make sure you got home okay since he knows you have anxiety driving at night when the roads are icy. 
6.) Shhhh will you some people are sleeping!
After coming home around 2 AM due to a delayed plane because of bad weather he finally comes home from his weekend roadie. Of course the ring camera starts to record as soon as it detects motion, recording how slow Nico is being trying to sneak into the apartment. But of course he somehow forgot about your 10 month Bernese Mountain puppy who starts barking at the top of his lungs. Running to attack Nico because he was so happy that “dad was home.” Of course the camera caught everything including Nico cursing in German for his failed attempts. But then he’s picking up your very big puppy trying to get him to quiet down because “hey don’t you know its 2 AM, your mama trying to sleep bubs.” . The next morning when you see a new notification on your phone from ring and you see Nico trying his hardest to be quiet you can’t help but chuckle and your chest swell a little at how sweet Nico was trying to be and how adorable he always is with your guys puppy. 
7.) Give me my puppy update
Everyday when he’s away on a roadie he demands to see an update on how much your little 20 lb Bernese Mountain puppy has grown on his way back in from his morning walk. He loves it when he’s actually able to catch the update in real time and talking through the camera catching how confused and excited the little puppy is because he hears dad’s voice but doesn’t see him. After a while attempting to pick up the very big puppy becomes such a struggle. It becomes Nico’s favorite part of his day watching you try to pick up the little rascal because he really only likes it when Nico picks him up. He loves hearing you complain to the dog that you are picking him up to show him to Nico. But every single time all the puppy does is schrick in refusal and you huff finally giving up. After 3 days in a row when your dog was around 10 months of that same pattern you told Nico that he’s going to have to settle on videos because fighting this dog to participate everyday in your daily vlogs was taking longer than it actually was to stand in front of the doorbell.
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dannychai1617 · 1 year ago
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ao3 skin that i made!! (copy code under "keep reading")
it's a messy combination of pieces of code from other people's skins and my own changes
the header image is NOT MINE! it is "Pattern Galaxy Space Planets Vibrant Linear Universe" by Arncil on Redbubble, which i just used as an example for an image you could use!
here are some of the skins that i can remember using as part of this, but i've been building it for years so forgive me if i forget some:
Shortening long tag fields by Xparrot (on ao3)
Slim Shaded by AO3 (on ao3)
Lily Garden by tealtiam (on Tumblr)
AO3 Tag category coloring! by ao3css (on Tumblr)
come back here to my tips or leave a comment if you need some help customizing the code!
Background color: #26303C
Text color: #CBC6C3
Header color: #46626D
Accent color: #993F33
steps to create a new skin using this code:
log into ao3 account
go to dashboard >> skins
click "create site skin"
make sure TYPE is "site skin"
add a unique title
copy all code below
paste into field 'CSS'
click on "use wizard" at the top
copy and paste the four colors written above into their corresponding boxes
click SUBMIT
click USE
how to customize this skin:
FONT SIZE: at the very top of the code, change the "90%" to be bigger or smaller to change the font size within a fic
MAIN COLORS: to change the main colors, select "use wizard" when editing the skin and replace any of the four hex codes under "Background color:", "Text color:", "Header color:", and "Accent color:"
SECONDARY COLORS: find all hex codes within the code and change those numbers as you like! i changed all colors to match with the color palette of the header photo that i chose to make it feel cohesive
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prosypepper · 9 months ago
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deadbeat - toji fushiguro
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synopsis: too stupid and selfish for anything good to happen.
word count: 3.6k
warnings: angst, toji is an ass, marriage problems, arguements, pregnancy, like two paragraphs of smut, rushed relationships, ooc toji (probably), really bad writing, a bunch of timeskips cuz i'm lazy. (18+ mdni!)
notes: yeah this one is ass but i just wanted to make something sad/angry. much love! send me requests i'm begging </3.
edit: you can find pt. 2 here.
masterlist
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 toji sits on a random bench downtown. he’s thinking. he thinks he’s too self-absorbed. and he’s rude, too rude for anyone to befriend him in a genuine way. he wishes he could change. toji’s left everyone in his life behind at some point. he gets overwhelmed sometimes, seeing all the people around him that more than likely have someone or something that keeps them going.
what does toji have? nothing. and it’s his own fault, too. he only has a stubbornness to him that won’t let him die. his mind is the only thing that keeps him going.
and then he sees you.
you plop down on the same bench, not next to him, but only a few feet away, rummaging through your bag to find something. you’re determined, not focused on the big scary man next to you. but to toji; you’re the first person in years that has sat next to him. he stares at you, as you still search for that something in your bag – your keys, toji sees you grab your keys. you look back up, finding toji staring at you, and he doesn’t break the contact with his eyes, he only continues to stare.
“are…you okay…?” you ask the man, giving him an awkward smile, “i’m sorry if i bothered you.”
once you speak, toji shakes his head, “no, no…you’re fine. i was just thinking,” toji says. you notice his gruff tone, yeah, it fits the way he looks perfectly. he’s muscular, and has dark, dark hair that matches the midnight sky with no stars. there’s also a bored look on his face, his eyes stay half-lidded, and his mouth sits in a natural frown. but he’s handsome, you think. very handsome. but it’s almost in an unconventional way – the scarring on his lips and overall structure of his face is like none other you’ve seen before.
call it love at first sight, call it whatever you want. but you felt a certain need for this man.
“thinking about what?” you ask, in an attempt to talk to him.
toji shakes his head again, “nothing important.”
you think that he probably has no interest in you, maybe you really did catch him off guard when you sat down next to him. but toji is thinking about how he’s never seen anyone like you, too, and he’s never had anyone willingly sit next to him and try to conversate. he thinks he’s too intimidating, and he is, to pretty much anyone else.
but you – you don’t get that from him. all you see is a possibly lonely, pretty man.
“what’s your name?” you question him again, cocking your head to the side.
“mm…toji,” he says, hesitantly.
“toji…” you repeat after him, mentally repeating his name over and over as to not forget it. toji can’t peel his eyes away from your lips as you mouth his name a couple times, the way they perfectly made an “o” shape for the letter in his name.
“uhm,” toji croaks, an unfamiliar feeling of nervousness in his chest, “what’s your name?”
when you tell him your name, toji sighs in relief. he’d always found it hard to have normal conversations, outside of those he had for work purposes, but this…this wasn’t so hard. he hadn’t wished to meet someone again in forever. but he wished now that he would see you again, even if it was passing on the street. toji hangs his head down, not knowing what to say anymore. these are difficult, odd, never-visited-before feelings for him.
maybe it was love at first sight for him, too. he doesn’t really know. not yet, at least.
“toji,” you repeat his name once more, and he lifts his head to look at you, “can i have your number, or something?” if you wanted to catch toji off guard, now, this is the way to do it.
toji’s mouth drops open slightly, “uh- sure,” he mutters, and he’s unable to stare at you anymore. you hand him an old receipt and a pen you kept in your bag, and he tries his hardest to remember the number of his apartment phone.
eventually, he writes it down, and you notice his penmanship definitely needs some work. nonetheless, you smile at toji, this time more genuine rather than awkward, and tell him you have to get going. toji only stares once more as you walk away, disappearing into the crowded sidewalk, his eyes linger on you for as long as possible.
toji was lonely. so, so pathetically lonely until you showed up.
“would you want to, like…see each other again?” you ask a drunk toji over the phone. his phone cord is stretched all the way over the counter in his apartment to the couch, where he lazily laid, buzzed, and talking to you.
silence is heard on the other side of the phone for a couple seconds.
“…sure,” toji replies, and you don’t know, but he feels like he could throw up.
however, with you making all the plans, a “date” is finally planned in a couple of weeks. neither one of you is too sure what to call it. but by normal, societal standards, yes, you and him were going to go on a date.
you have phone conversations every so often as the remaining days pass. usually, it’s you calling him. that’s only because he thinks your life is too busy for someone like him. he doesn’t even know why someone like you is even talking to him.
toji will keep his insecurities under wraps for now, though. only for now.
he’s still very curious about you, though, and he wonders what makes him so curious. he’s still wondering when he walks into a bar – the one you proclaimed as your favorite – to see you on your so-called date. toji’s heart flutters for the first time in his life when he sees you. you’re already sat in one of the barstools, sipping on a mixed drink – and you are jaw-droppingly beautiful. toji doesn’t talk to you when he slides into the stool next to you.
you crane your neck to look at whoever just sat in the reserved seat, and it’s toji, not looking any differently from how you saw him a couple weeks ago. you don’t mind. he’s still attractive. you think he might just be the type that’s “unapologetically themselves.” and he is, but not in a way that makes people attracted to him.
“toji!” his name falls off your tongue so perfectly yet again, and you wrap your arms around his neck. he doesn’t hug you back, he only freezes slightly at your touch. again, you don’t mind. it’s painfully obvious he doesn’t do things like this often. you feel lucky he decided to show up in the first place.
as time ticks away, you begin to find out more about toji. he does have a sense of humor, it only takes some chipping away at his hard exterior and a few drinks for him to laugh along with you. he lives alone, and he’s honest about his job – he kills people for a living. that fact doesn’t intimidate you, it only explains why he is the way he is. he tells you a few minute details about his family life, too, and how he grew up.
nothing that he tells you scares you. it only makes sense to you. the pieces of his personality add up with the information he gives you. and silently, you thank him for explaining more about himself.
he just doesn’t want to be lonely anymore.
toji takes you back to his place that night. even the frugal décor – or lack thereof – makes sense to you. it’s a little humorous how everything fits so perfectly with his personality.
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“fuck- toji!” you scream, arms shaking as you hold yourself up as toji pounds you from behind. you know you only met him a few weeks ago, and it’s bad to fuck on the first date, but you feel zero remorse with the current situation. his big, rough hands hold your hips in place, lewd, wet noises fill the air when you aren’t moaning for the man behind you. toji doesn’t pay mind to how loud you’re being – he only likes the fact you’re losing yourself because of him.
toji props his leg up on the bed, giving a new angle, and slams his hips forward to meet yours again. you feel him in the deepest parts of you, and god, he’s so warm, he makes your whole body heat up in a way you’ve never felt before. drool rolls out of your mouth, creating a small damp circle below your head. your eyes flash behind you. you see toji in all his glory – he’s actually got some emotion on his face now.
you fall asleep in toji’s bed that night.
toji prays you won’t just be a one-night stand – no, he won’t let you be a one-night stand. in toji’s mind, you’re his now.
in your mind, you are too.
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a few weeks after your date, you call up toji, he notices the nervous tone in your voice, but doesn’t mention anything about it.
“toji…” you say, his name sounding so perfect once again, “toji…i’m pregnant.”
shit.
“what?” he sounds furious, and it makes you cower down, even in the comfort of your own home. you don’t repeat yourself. you know he heard you. “are you sure?” he frantically questions, slapping a hand to his forehead as he begins to sweat.
“i’ve been sick ever since our date…and all the tests i took are positive.” you whimper, not handling the news any better than toji. you want to cry and beg toji not to leave. “i’m sorry, toji,” you whisper.
“it’s…okay.” toji replies. he knows the fault lies with both of you, and the heat of the moment, and the fact that he was just so attracted to you he didn’t have time to control himself.
“i don’t know what to do,” you tell toji, tears rolling down your cheeks as you clench the phone in your hand even tighter.
“me either,” toji admits, “but…i’ll help you.” those are the only words he can think of to calm you down.
it’s going to be a sticky situation, no matter what. but you took a chance on toji, you overlooked everything wrong with him. it was now his time to return the favor.
he got his wish, though. you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere anytime soon.
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toji hauls the last of your boxes into his apartment, throwing them down on the floor harder than needed.
“you have a lot of shit, woman,” he groans, wiping his forehead. you only giggle in return from your spot on the couch. he didn’t let you pick up any of the heavy boxes.
you spend the rest of the day unpacking all your clothes, completely overtaking toji’s closet with items of your own. all your things add a splash of color into toji’s space, and god knows he needs it. toji’s surprised someone can have so much stuff.
“what the hell is this?” toji asks, pulling something out of a box.
“it’s a curling iron, toji,” you reply as you roll your eyes.
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by the time night comes, you’re successfully moved in with the father of your baby. empty boxes are broken down and laid by the door. you’re curled up next to toji on the couch, his arm is wrapped around you. it’s been around 3 months since your first encounter with toji downtown.
ever since you told him you were pregnant, he’s acted differently. he dotes on you, he makes sure you’re comfortable, he buys you meals because he’s clueless as to what else to buy you. toji didn’t think he had it in him. you still aren’t officially together — yet — but toji shows he has a care for you in small ways.
you’re still getting used to one another, though. you and toji differ from each other tremendously, but you have to find a way to make these things work. you show toji love, and he prefers to keep his feelings inside, showing love through him allowing you to touch him and be around him. he hasn’t allowed anyone to be this way with him before. nothing is ever long term with him.
he no longer has a choice now.
“toji,” you speak, “are we dating? are we together?” you ask.
the inquiry causes toji to furrow his eyebrows.
“why?” toji answers you with another question. you shrug.
“I just want to know,” you reply. toji shrugs.
“do you want to get married?” toji petitions.
you push yourself off toji, sitting up. you look at him, eyebrows knitted together, “what?” you almost sound the same as toji did when you told him you were pregnant. and again, the situation repeats itself. toji’s statement doesn’t recur. he knows you heard him.
toji looks at you, a sly grin on his scarred lips.
“okay,” you finally agree, “i’ll marry you, toji.”
love grows. loving someone can change you, for the better or for worse. love matures someone, it will make someone into something they once weren’t, or something they aren’t meant to be. love is beautiful. intimate, soft feelings swell inside of you in a way you cannot express.
you love toji. he loves you, too, you think.
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“toji, let go of me,” you playfully giggle as you try to pry the man’s hands off your waist, “i have to cook!”
toji has his arms wrapped around you from behind, not too hard, of course, to make sure there is no damage done to the human you’re growing inside of you. he has no intentions of letting you go, despite your pleas. toji rests his head on your shoulder, kissing the crook of your neck and breathing your scent in.
“i love you.” toji whispers, a barely audible peep.
you’re taken aback for a moment. you understood long ago those words would probably never come out of his mouth; due to the rushed situation you lived in with him. but he was there with you, saying those three words that mean more than anything in this world.
“i love you too, toji,” you reply, now staying still as opposed to your earlier motions of trying to get away.
the both of you just stand there, so close, enveloped in each other’s presence. you haven’t shared a moment like this with him yet.
you crane your neck to plant a kiss on toji’s cheek, no longer fighting to get out of his grasp. you only turn yourself around and wrap your arms around his neck, encapsulating your husband in a deep hug. a hug that means more than anything that can be put into words.
that was the only time he said those words to you.
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you’ve been married to toji for five and a half months. he’s a changed man, despite him still carrying the same cold demeanor as the same day you met. he’s proven to be a fine partner for you. you understand him more now, with the way he continues to keep you at arm’s length while also letting you in to his mind, expressing deep emotions whenever he was under the influence. he makes a promise to you that he won’t do anything to harm you or the baby, including with his job. he no longer wants to be put in danger, because it would put you and his baby in danger.
lonely he was no more. he had you, it was all he needed. toji felt that way for months. he would stay content and happy — although he never showed it — with you.
toji often spent his time thinking about you. he’s never had anyone like you in his life.
sometimes, love cannot change you entirely. the newness of it all wears out over time, that’s inevitable. but, it’s the choices you make along the way that show change.
all the while being a changed man, toji is still self-absorbed. he cannot run away from that fact.
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 you’re 8 months pregnant. the past few nights, you’ve been alone at toji’s apartment, too pregnant and tired to do anything about it.
just as you’re about to call him up, toji opens the door and stumbles through, drunk as ever. you frown.
“where the hell have you been, toji?” you raise your voice, slowly getting up from the couch.
“why the hell does it matter?” toji retorts, anger in his voice. he wasn’t expecting you to be on his ass as soon as he walked through the door.
“you’ve been gone for three days!” you yell at him, “three whole days. you said you wouldn’t take on any more dangerous jobs!”
toji makes a tch sound with his teeth, “i wasn’t on a job.” he admits.
you look at toji, confused, “where were you?”
toji runs his fingers through his already disheveled hair, “gambling.”
he says it so nonchalantly, like he didn’t just spend half a week away from his pregnant wife gambling. toji had only mentioned gambling as a bad past habit. you didn’t think he did it anymore, but as soon as he admits it, you wonder if he spent all that time gambling instead of working. it would only make sense.
“what…?” you say, voice dropping to nothing more than a whisper. toji only shakes his head and walks off into the bedroom. you stare at him until he disappears.
for weeks after, you and toji continue to argue. your conversations turn into screaming battles until one of you gives up. most nights, toji sleeps on the couch. you slowly begin to realize that everything might have been a mistake.
there’s a reason he’s never had someone like you.
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your arguments falter for a while at the arrival of your baby boy. he’s beautiful, a literal bundle of joy. toji takes the role of a father very seriously at first. he makes sure he’s taken care of while you spend a few days bedridden because of the birth. you love to watch toji through your bedroom door, while he holds the baby swaddled up as he cooks for you.
a glimmer of hope remains in your heart for your marriage.
toji joins you in bed that night, the baby safely tucked away in a small bassinet on your side of the bed. you’re wrapped in toji’s arms again. the world is right. you fall asleep to the sounds of your husband’s snores. it’s a feeling you haven’t had in a long time.
selfishness is a cruel disease.
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a couple months after having your baby, you’re not so lonely, spending most of your time taking care of him. you become too busy and burnt out from being a parent that you don’t notice toji’s late nights again. he always joins you in bed, at some point, but at the end of the day you’re sleeping too soundly to notice the time.
slowly, the rekindled love begins to fade for toji. he’s never there, except for when the sun is down. once you’re able to stay awake past 9p.m., the nasty monster of arguments comes back at full force.
“shut the hell up, woman! you’re pissing me off!” toji yells. the baby is wailing in your bedroom, but you are too preoccupied with your husband to do anything.
“are you kidding me? you reek of cheap perfume,” you retort, voice matching the loudness of toji’s, “who the fuck were you with?”
“none of your goddamned business!” toji shouts, taking a step closer to tower over you. he does nothing to intimidate you. you were never scared of him, so why would you be now?
“it is my business, i’m your wife!” you reply to his remarks.
toji scoffs. he makes a decision quickly, not thinking about any repercussions. he points a finger towards the door.
“get the hell out.”
your face falls from anger into an expression that can only be described as heartbreak. your husband of almost – almost ­­– a year is kicking you out. toji’s face remains stern and cold, not a pang of regret for doing this to you.
thousands of questions run through your mind, painful silence falls over the room, and you can hear your baby screaming once more. no time is given to ask toji anything. and for once, you’re scared. not exactly scared of toji, but of the fact you don’t know how things are going to end up without him.
your shoulders relax. you look toji in the eyes, unable to hide your heartbreak, but overall, you decide to keep an unbothered façade.
indifference doesn’t matter to toji. neither does sadness, or anger.
it only takes you a few minutes to pack a bag with enough things for you and the baby. you do your best to calm him down before leaving. you walk over to the door, looking toji in the eyes once more, and for the first time, toji can see the rage in them. the rage that he caused.
“i hate you.”
you slam the door on your way out, a bag on one shoulder and the baby on your other side. you think about what toji was doing, but alas, you don’t really care. it only took a few minutes and a couple hundred hurtful words for toji to be dead to you.
toji watches from his window as you walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the crowd with his son. he thinks about where you’re going, who you’ll stay with, and how his life will end up now that you’re more than likely gone for good.
he’s a lonely man again. he’s leaving behind someone else, yet again.
but, he doesn’t really care.
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girlyhornywriter · 2 months ago
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Get Milked [1/2]
[Contains Weight Gain, Hucow]
Bethany tried her best to control her breathing and calm herself down as she took stock of her situation: restraints wrapped around her wrists and ankles ensured she didn't move an inch from the strange dentist chair-like piece of furniture she was sitting in; her street clothes had been stripped from her at some point, replaced with a loose grey t-shirt and matching shorts that fortunately allowed her to maintain her modesty; there was a closed doorway to her left, and a set of double-doors to her right through which she could feel a gentle breeze blowing through; she had been feeling somewhat dazed since she woke up, but that feeling was finally fading away, implying that whatever drugs they had hit her with were wearing off.
She had no idea where she was being held, but she had an upsetting level of certainty about who had brought her here. She'd heard all the rumours about the "Happy Cow Dairy" through the web. Nominally, they were just one of the many industrial dairy mega-farms active in the US, providing milk and cream to the public at reasonable prices. If you believed some of the less charitable opinions about them, they were also huge political donors, able to sway regulations and laws to suit their business interests despite the risks to health and safety.
And if you believed some of the really out-there conspiracies...
Bethany wasn't usually one to believe the sort of nonsensical rambling that gets shared by the paranoid and the delusional on social media, but some of the stories about the Happy Cow Dairy were just plausible enough to make her finish reading any post about them that she saw. Mentions of their links to government bio-tech firms, collusion with intelligence agencies, even some gene-editing companies absorbed under their corporate umbrella. This was all just the icing on the cake though - the real story was the number of abductions that had been blamed on them over the past couple of years. It all would have sounded like the usual crank nonsense, except for one shred of proof that had made its way onto the internet. She would never forget what she saw when she finally got her hands on a link to that video...
Back when she had first moved out to the small, rural town in which she currently lived, Bethany had befriended a waitress called Danielle, who worked at the cafe next to her apartment. They were both out-of-towners who didn't really have any close family, so they naturally gravitated towards each other; Danielle would spend half of her shift loitering at Bethany's table, keeping her coffee topped up and letting her vent about what a rough week she'd had. They chatted about everything, from Bethany's insatiable love of all things sweet to Danielle's story about the wicked scar on her eyebrow she'd acquired in a freak rollerblading accident. Her manager didn't seem to appreciate it, but she wasn't technically breaking any rules, so there wasn't much he could do beyond glare at the two of them. But a couple of months ago, Danielle seemed to... Vanish. She was never on shift, the other staff hadn't heard from her, and her manager just shrugged his shoulders when Bethany asked about where she'd gone. She got a bad enough feeling about the whole thing to contact the police about it. They got back to her a couple of weeks later - They'd managed to get in touch with her and confirm she was safe, but beyond that, they couldn't give Bethany any details.
She would have relegated the whole ordeal to Danielle just being weirdly skittish... If not for the contents of the video. It supposedly showed one of Happy Cow Dairy's "top-secret" R&D labs, where they develop new hormone formulas for maximising the milk production of their cows.
Except these weren't cows. These were women.
You could be mistaken for thinking they were cows at first glance. Their size and proportions were definitely far from normal. Lined up on either side of a central walkway, dozens of immensely fat women crouched on their hands and knees, all communally eating from two long metal troughs running parallel to each other for as far as the camera showed. Each face looked dazed as it munched on whatever slop was being served, spilling the stuff all over their triple-chins and onto their massive mammaries. Every now and then, a low, guttural moo would escape from one of the captive women, echoing through the vast hall long after the offending cattle had dipped her head back down into the slop.
The smallest of the "cows" had to be at least 700lbs, and the biggest were too big to even fit fully into frame as the camera passed over them each in turn. Their bellies all scraped along the faux-grass floor as they dragged their immense bulks from one section of the trough to another, seeking out more mouthfuls of the apparently delicious slop. Their breasts looked so big and so heavy, sagging low and also touching the ground as they endlessly leaked thin streams of creamy milk; whatever hormone cocktail those scientists had pumped into these poor girls, it was clearly having its intended effect. Some girls had their enormous breasts hooked up to pumping stations in the far corners of the hall - They panted, moaned and mooed in ecstasy as their overfilled teats were emptied, the milk siphoned off to God-knows-where. Men and women in lab coats wandered casually from cow to cow, making notes into the tablets they were carrying or pointing things out to their lab partners. Compared to the hulking, barely-mobile forms of the cattle-women, these researchers almost looked malnourished.
The video went on for less than a minute, but every frame seemed to last an eternity when Bethany first watched it. It was horrifying... But it was still, at the end of the day, just a video on the internet. It wasn't proof of anything. Sure, Happy Cow Dairy might have a secret lab filled with women who had been halfway transformed into dairy cows. But it was just as likely that somebody with a lot of skill in digital effects had created the whole thing as a hoax, maybe as part of some vendetta against the Dairy for firing them or building a farm over their land. As Bethany had approached the end of the video, she had all but convinced herself that that was the explanation. Just a disgruntled ex-employee, getting back at their old bosses with this wild conspiracy.
She just wished she had closed the video at that point. She could have moved on with her life and laughed at what a gullible fool she had been for digging so deep into all of this nonsense. But she hadn't. She had watched it through to the end. And as the camera panned over the last couple of faces bowing their heads into the half-empty trough, Bethany's heart had skipped a beat.
It was Danielle.
If not for the colour of her hair and the distinctive scar on her eyebrow, Bethany wouldn't have recognised her old friend. Her face was so much rounder and softer, dominated by chubby cheeks and several chins, with a mop of wild, greasy hair framing her once delicate face. She glanced at the camera as it passed over her, not even bothering to pause from sinking her stained mouth into the slop and swallowing a hefty mouthful. She wore no clothes, except for a grey pair of shorts that barely seemed to cover the colossal mountain of ass that now weighed down her rear end. The tag attached to her ear was just legible for a single frame of the video, and Bethany had managed to decipher it.
"DAISY"
Suddenly, Bethany was stirred from her reminiscing by a gentle buzz from the doorway on her left. With a soft click, the door opened to reveal a tall woman wearing a familiar-looking labcoat, and carrying an equally familiar-looking tablet. She wore safety goggles and a facemask, preventing Bethany from seeing what emotions were playing across her face as she stepped into the room and paused in front of the chair that she was constrained to. Was it pity? Curiosity? Excitement? She tried to speak to the scientist, but her words fell on deaf ears - Literally, as the scientist's earplugs prevented her from hearing any more than a gentle hum coming from Bethany's direction. She typed something into the tablet, then walked around to a point behind Bethany that she couldn't see. After some cryptic beeps and buzzing from whatever console was located there, the woman left the room through the same door she had entered by, leaving Bethany alone once again.
Her head sank in defeat as she realised just how bad this was looking. Nobody was going to help her. Whatever these people were going to do to her, she wasn't going to be able to fight it. This was a well-oiled machine, and Bethany's role in it was already decided; anything she could try to do to resist them, they'd probably already thought of and planned for. Her only choice was to hope they made some kind of mistake before they could do her much harm.
As she sat there with her head hanging towards the ground, she noticed something that made her heart sink. The grey outfit she had woken up in...
It was exactly the same shade as the shorts Danielle was wearing in that video.
The console behind her, which had been humming softly since the scientist had left, suddenly came to life, and Bethany could do nothing but watch as a thick rubber tube descended from the ceiling towards her gasping mouth...
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elexuscal · 9 months ago
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So just over a year ago, I made a resolution to myself to get better at Fitness, since I was getting older and i knew if i didn't, the Consequences would begin to manifest. One problem? Historically i have always hated working out.
i knew there were two main reasons why: 1. lingering trauma from the usual Fat/Neurodivergent Kid Mistreated In PE Class Experience 2. oh my god it's so so so boring i would rather do anything more entertaining.
So. I'm not an expert, and i'm definitely not a professional fitness instructor, BUT i have genuinely come to not just tolerate but actually enjoy exercise this past year. So if these are any problems you personally have contended with, these strategies May Help.
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One: Remove Barriers
a lot of flavours of neurodivergence struggle with switching between tasks and executive function generally, especially towards something you don't find fun. So first you gotta identify any barriers keeping you from exercising, and removing or mitigating them.
For me, a hurdle i recognised is that if I could not easily access the equipment, I was unlikely to use it. honestly if i couldn't see it i would probably forget it was there. So my first order of business was making a Work Out Zone. I unrolled my yoga mat and gave it a near-permanent place in my room. my weights came out of the closet and placed on a low shelf where i could easily access them, as did my resistance band. now they were always Right there.
I also realised something I detested was the general feeling of sweaty clothes, and in particular, having to change out of them. So Gross. so i started scheduling my work outs for in the the morning after breakfast or right before my nightly showers, aka: when I am changing in and out of my PJs. I'll do my routine (mostly) naked and not have to contend with the extra steps and laundry that sweaty clothes bring.
two: secondary entertainment
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like i said: i found exercise very boring. and while i've gotten better over the past year, and can find it meditative, i still prefer having something else to catch my attention.
i used to like to put on video essays. but then i realised i was so often pausing my work outs because the particular video ended, or the pace got slow, or the topic turned to something dark and depressing out of nowhere and killed the vibe, so then i had to stop to find something else--
No. You need something that will keep you in the zone, and won't knock you out of it. I didn't used to listen to music much, but this year i took advantage of a Spotify subscription my sister gifted me (😔) and started just putting on upbeat rock, hip-hop, and pop mixes. it doesn't need to be my favouirte music ever it just needs to Keep Going.
i do find the loud, rhythmic music is really good for keeping my pace up, but if music doesn't do it for you, you might find audiobooks or autoplaying favourite old tv shows/sitcoms might scratch that itch.
Three: Find Other Motivators
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Or, "if you can't make your own motivation, store bought is fine"
Gameification is really good here. You might be someone who'll benefit from a pedometer or step-counter app. I have a friend who swears by the Switch Ring-Fit, and I've also heard of folks who use games like Just Dance, Zombies, Run! and Beat Saber to rely on the sweet sweet endorphins generated by hitting a high score.
(BUT: do beware the dark side of gameification, which is the risk of demotivation if you don't hit your goals. For example, after doing GREAT on exceeding my step goal for a month, I got hit with COVID. For about a week and a half I was barely moving beyond the kitchen and back. My step counts plummeted, there was no way to edit the record out, and that made it harder to get back into the groove. Be mindful relying too much on gameification!)
Even outside of literal games, there are ways to scratch this itch. I used secondary objectives as a way to encourage me to keep up with my daily walks. Walking my roommate's dog when he was working long days is an obvious one, but we don't always have a furry friend at our disposal. Then I would rely on mini-challenges like, "pick up 10 cool rocks to paint", "fill this bag with wood for the fireplace", "take 10 pretty pictures", or "get to the corner store to get more milk".
And of course, consider team sports! Many folks I've talked to feel having set training/play times with a team that relies on them crucial to keep them on track!
Four: Don't Measure Success By Weight Loss
I know. I know. Easier said than done. It does not help that like 80% of workout resources online are going to mention this. but above all else, you must resist the beast. (and while not as dicey, measuring success by visible muscle gain can fall into a similar trap).
The biggest benefits to exercise are invisible. it improves cardiovascular health, brain function, tissue regeneration, immune system function, lung capacity, energy levels, literally our whole body. no matter what external changes your body does or doesn't go through, you're still going to be benefitting from exercise, and you do not want to get demotivated chasing unrealistic/irrelevant goals.
Instead, to track your progress, focus on questions like these:
How is exercise impacting my mood? Do I feel less stressed or anxious?
Am I sleeping better?
Is my balance improving?
Is my stamina increasing?
Am I becoming more flexible?
Can I lift/carry heavier weights?
Is my breath control improving?
Over the last year, I've seen marked improvements in all of these. My joints don't hurt as much; it's easier for me to to get up and move; I don't get winded as easily; I generally feel more relaxed and cheerful. Those are all amazing outcomes, and I hope that everyone on their own fitness journey can find the same joy there as I have.
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stellarbit · 1 year ago
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Two Faces
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Word Count: 11k Pairing: fem!reader x Bad Batch, light Tech nods Warnings: nada except light violence. Training, some fluff, and general fun Summary: When your sister becomes a senator, you decide to join her guard to protect her. Your mother sends you to train on Kamino as backlash. You are paired with Clone Force 99 under the guise of a regular trooper. Encountering you outside of uniform they mistake you for your sister. It is a delicate situation and you have to play your cards carefully.
This started out as a request for the guys getting jealous of you undercover and here I am. When I tell you this was SO FUN to write but took SO LONG. If y'all like imma make it a part 2.
Edit; you wanted it so here it is Two Faces pt 2
“You want to be a foot soldier.” Your mother snarled down her nose. She was a tall woman, taller than you at least, and the governor of your planet. She waved a slender dismissive hand. “Then be a foot soldier.”
Face neutral, you stood before her in the white armor of a clone trooper. You held the helmet with both hands and a white knuckle grip. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you told your mother you wanted to join your sister’s guard
From your mother’s right your sister stood wringing her hands together. She stood at your height with a face that mirrored your own. Often you were mistaken as twins. Only a few years older than you and already she was the senator for your planet -- the perfect example of what you should have been. Despite everything, the two of you were extremely close.
Concern ate her alive as she watched on. She opened her mouth, but your mother’s hand splayed out in front of her face, cutting off your sister’s voice and view of you.
Continuing to stare you down, your mother’s mouth twisted into her nose. Your family practically bred politicians and that was never your path. If the two of you agreed on nothing else it was that you were no politician.
When your sister was elected as Senator, you knew if you were trained you could be in her guard and keep her safe. It was a decision you were proud of and one that sealed your fate in the eyes of your mother. You would be of no use to her. She heard your wish and wanted to make sure you fully regretted it.
Rolling her eyes away from you, your mother turned her attention to a Kaminoan by her other side. As the leaders of two allied planets, your mother and Lama Su maintained a close relationship. At least close enough to call in favors.
“Thank you, Prime Minister, for this opportunity.” Your mother’s disgust faded into a pleasant smile. “Although, I worry she may damage the reputation of your clone troopers.”
The Kaminoan shifted his gaze to you. In near boredom he said, “You do realize she is liable to die?” Settling his hands in front of him, he turned back to your mother. 
She scoffed, the idea of no concern to her. “She made her choice. Should that come to pass, Kamino will not be held responsible.” They spoke of you as if you weren’t even present. “But, do make sure they don’t take it easy on her.”
They. An ‘unorthodox’ squadron of clones you would be paired with.
Your mother said your name, her tone sharp enough to straighten your back. Her head tilted back, the crimp in her lip returning. “If it is discovered that my daughter is beneath that armor, forget ever coming home.” She muttered something to your sister and, in unison, they made for the door. 
Your sister managed one last glance at you before the Kaminoan door swirled open and your mother shoved her through. Your heart sank as the giant white doors shut behind the women.
What if you never saw your sister again?
Alone with Lama Su, the bright, sterile room began to strain your eyes. The unnatural ambience of the room was enough to unsettle you without the addition of the Kaminoan’s cold stare. With slow fluidity, he fully turned towards you. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “The modified armor will hide your identity. All you have to do is follow orders.” Lama Su said in his smooth, detached voice. He gestured a long finger towards you. “Put on your helmet, do not remove it in front of others, and remain silent. Your family may tolerate embarrassment, but I will not endure it here.”
Under his cold stare, you lifted the helmet and sealed it over your head. Your eyes had barely adjusted to the restricted line of sight when the doors hissed opened again.
Where your mother and sister had left, five men strode in. Their armor was mismatched in shape and color, but there was some vein shared between them. It took you a moment until your eyes widened and the gears finally turned. These were the clones!
You were no stranger to clones. The Republic had dispatched a group of troopers to your planet as a show of good faith and alliance, although you wondered at times if your family fully reciprocated that sentiment. That said, these men were unlike any clones you’d seen. 
Their appearances were as mismatched as their armor. Your attention immediately drifted to a behemoth of a man towering over his cohorts and obviously blinded in his left eye. Standing shorter than the rest, one man sported a tattoo covering half his face. Two of them stood at the same height, one with goggles and the other with silver hair. The fifth man looked more akin to a standard clone than the rest, yet his complexion was blanched and he was outfitted with cybernetic prosthetics.  
They were the most mesmerizing things you’d ever seen. And none of them spared even a glance in your direction.
Resisting the urge to look to the Kaminoan for clarification, you kept your eyes forward and did your best to look at attention.
“Clone Force 99, welcome.” Lama Su took a smooth step forward and swept a hand in your direction. Still, their eyes remained trained on the Prime Minister. “This promising trooper is being assigned to your squad for training. While their designation number is of no concern to you, you may refer to your new addition as ‘Phi.’”
Phi. A word you recognized as meaning nothing.
A pale hand landed gently on your shoulder, finally dragging Clone Force 99’s collective attention to you. Even through the armor, Lama Su’s touch made your skin crawl. The urge to bite settled between your teeth and the intensity of his stare did nothing to dissuade that.
His next words came across as almost proud. “I trust you will find the skills of this soldier to be exemplary, possibly even to surpass standard clone trooper protocol. It has been decided that integrating with your unit will provide... a most beneficial learning environment for all.”
The praise threw you off until you noticed the change in the squad’s expressions. Something in Lama Su’s words did not sit well with them. In particular, the tall silver-haired clone did nothing to hide his annoyance. Whatever it was, the undue praise clearly sealed your fate in some way. His sharp glance alone indicated that the undue praise had somehow sealed your fate—a fate Lama Su had very intentionally engineered.
“Training will begin immediately.” Lama Su said. “Proceed to the training facilities to begin. You have your orders. You are dismissed.”
Clone Force 99 wasted no time in filing out of the room, offering no introductions or even a glance to see if you followed. Their dismissal was clear; you were an outsider, not worthy of their camaraderie. Hurrying after them, the quiet of the corridor seemed to amplify the shifting of armor and footsteps.
"Just our luck!" His voice boomed, echoing off the walls. "Why do we get stuck with a reg?" He threw a glance over his shoulder, his good eye scanning you with disdain.
Reg? The term echoed in your mind, a label you didn’t yet understand.
The cybernetic clone fell back beside you. “The question is: what did you do to get stuck with us?” His tone wasn't unkind, merely curious, probing.
Instinctively, your mouth opened to respond, but Lama Su’s directive flashed in your mind—Do not speak in front of others. Clamping your mouth shut, you turned your gaze forward again, grateful for the helmet’s limited field of vision that spared you from seeing their reactions. You did see the way Crosshair's eyes narrowed, it was safe to assume your silence hadn’t helped matters.
Adjusting to the weight of your gear seemed trivial compared to the weight of maintaining silence.
Sighing, the tattooed man shook his head. “Listen,” He said as he stopped and turned. “If we are stuck together, we might as well get along. I’m Hunter.”
He gestured to the others as they continued walking. "That’s Wrecker," pointing to the large man, "Echo," indicating the cyborg, "Tech," nodding towards the one with goggles, and lastly, "And Crosshair," with a tilt of his head toward the silver-haired clone who had kept his distance.
They all waited for your addition, but it didn’t come and your silence remained. From behind your helmet you cringed. This was shaping up to be a terrible idea. You held your breath, bracing for the uncomfortable journey ahead. 
Your silence only fueled Crosshair’s anger. His gaze narrowed, head cocked like a raptor eyeing prey. "Too good to speak to us?" His lip curled in a familiar, cruel sneer that reminded you of your mother. 
Noticing Crosshair had an actual crosshair tattooed over his right eye you couldn’t help the little snort you made, emphasized by your helmet’s voice modulator. You immediately regretted your slip up as Crosshair set his shoulders, head snaking forward. “Something funny, reg?” The way he said that word was pure venom.
 You almost conceded at the guttural sound he made at your continued silence, but before you could react Crosshair cracked his elbow into your helmet. The helmet crashed into your face and pain bloomed across your nose, knocking you down to one knee. Blood trickled from your nostrils, leaving you reeling with doubts and likely a broken nose.
"Crosshair!" Hunter barked. He didn't need to step in further; Crosshair stood back, arms crossed and lips twisted into a smirk of satisfaction.
Echo and Tech shared a glance, Wrecker gave a supportive smile, and Hunter shot Crosshair a sharp, disapproving look before turning his attention back to you. "Get up," he said firmly, "and keep up."
With one last glare from Crosshair, you pushed yourself up to your feet, determined not to show weakness. But as the sharp metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, you couldn't ignore the cold reality of your situation.
They certainly did not take it easy on you and by the end of your first session it was clear to all of you that you were a miserable excuse for a recruit. In the solitude of your room, you finally removed your helmet. In a small mirror you twisted your head, examining the crusted blood and swollen nature of your nose.
A gentle, and painful, touch confirmed your broken nose suspicions. You leaned in for a better look and smiled. It hurt like hell, but at least you made it through your first day.
You looked to a photo of your sister you’d pinned to your mirror. It’s worth it for her. Giving yourself a nod, you replaced your helmet and headed for the med bay- a trip you were going to frequent.
As you entered the medical wing, the only presence were that of two medical droids floating about and a female Kaminoan. The female swept her head in your direction, slowly blinking as you stood at the entrance. You recognized the Kaminoan as Nala Se. She’d given your family a tour of the cloning operations in the past.
She addressed you with a good evening and gestured for you to approach. “I am aware of your identity. You may remove your armor in my presence.” Nala Se said in her ever measured tone. When you still hesitated she added, “The clones are currently in the canteen.”
Reluctantly, you lifted the helmet from your head, exposing the bruised face underneath. Nala Se observed you quietly, her expression unreadable. “You should return home.” She suggested. “Our clones are trained from their creation. You will not be able to match their abilities.”
“That’s not an option now. I either return with training or in a body bag.”
You placed your helmet in a tote at the foot of the medical table and began discarding the rest of the armor in the same fashion. Clad only in your black undersuit, you continued undressing under Nala Se's impassive watch. Her clinical detachment did little to ease the discomfort of the situation
Stripped down to a bandeau and shorts, you climbed onto the examination bed. A droid hovered over you, scanning your body. "Subject exhibits a broken nose and extensive bruising," it reported to Nala Se, who nodded slightly before administering two injections—one for pain and another to reduce future bruising.
As the droid tended to your injuries, Nala Se handed you a set of clothes. "There is more than one way to remain hidden," she stated as she unfolded a Kaminoan-style outfit—a set of dark, tight-fitting pants and a long-sleeve shirt, complemented by a light-colored vest with fabric strips cascading down your legs
You’d no sooner dawned the outfit when the doors slid open again and voices immediately broke the silence.
You froze with your back to the door. Tech's analytical voice floated through the air, "I am merely saying, excess violence will only worsen the situation for all of us."
It was Crosshair who answered with dry amusement. "Speak for yourself," he scoffed. 
Nala Se held your gaze a moment longer before she looked to the approaching clones. “CT-9902 and CT-9904, what is it that you require?”
Tech spoke up from behind you, "There is a high probability that Crosshair fractured his knuckles during training." You could think of a few instances that could’ve caused that, the bruises across your body serving as evidence.
Swallowing the groan in your throat, you finally faced them. Tech and Crosshair stopped in their tracks both staring at you with some confusion.
“Senator.” Tech offered a nod of respect. His polite tone threw you off balance as he mistook you for your sister. The Kaminoans' medical treatment had indeed worked wonders, hiding your identity well enough to prompt the error.
Crosshair frowned, a toothpick tilting in his mouth.
Tech, noticing Crosshair’s tight expression, nudged his brother. “We passed her on the way to meet the Prime Minister.” This was enough for the sniper to remove his toothpick and stand a bit straighter.
The immediate respect was a stark contrast to the blows they’d dealt you all day. Embracing the assumption you smiled graciously despite the stiff feeling in your face. “It is a pleasure to formally meet you, troopers.” You rounded the table to stand before them.
Without your gear, you realized just how much taller they were. And without the restrictive view of your helmet, you could fully appreciate how striking they were. They stood with practiced military bearing, radiating strength and a sense of purpose that matched their formidable presence.
Absolutely breathtaking, and in a much different way than when they'd been knocking the wind out of you earlier.
“The honor is ours, Senator.” Tech said. His eyes searched your face, for what you weren’t certain.Though having his eyes on any part of you was a lovely sensation. He paused momentarily, but found your eyes again. 
Crosshair kept his gaze steady as he studied you, lending some clarity to your earlier question. "What brings a senator down to the med bay? Surely not curiosity."
Holding your composure, you lied, “I am… personally interested in the development and progress of the valiant men keeping our galaxy safe.” You took the opportunity to circle the two men while they remained still and eyes forward. The men had equally long legs and cinched waists that were positively sinful. This view of them was certainly an upgrade, igniting an idea in you.
“In fact,” You polished a smile as you came back to their fronts. “I’d be interested in some personal lessons from esteemed men such as yourselves.” 
Surprise lifted Tech’s eyebrows and pulled the corner of Crosshair’s lip up. 
“Mistress Se mentioned your squad is already undertaking the training of a new recruit.” Their expressions dulled at the reminder. “What’s a few extra morning sessions with a mere Senator?”
Nala Se, observing the exchange from the background, stepped forward to say, "That can be arranged for the morning after next. For now, the senator has matters to attend to. CT-9904, please proceed with your treatment."
Tech offered another polite nod before leading Crosshair to the medical equipment. As they moved away, you exhaled, glancing at Nala Se, who gave you an almost imperceptible nod of approval.
The following morning, back in your armor, you walked into the training room and the middle of Clone Force 99’s conversation.
Wrecker was throwing his head around, moaning about something you couldn't quite catch. “-well, why didn’t I see her?”
“You did, Wrecker.” Tech said in a flat, exasperated breath. “If only in passing.”
“But why would a senator want to watch us train?” Echo shook his head in confusion.
Tech adjusted his goggles. “Correction: she wants to train with us.”
As he twirled a knife between his fingers, Hunter asked, “Then why would a senator want to train with clones?”
“Does it matter?” Crosshair drawled from his perch on a rectangular obstacle with a knee pulled up.. “If the little princess wants our hands on her, who are we to deny?”
Little princess. Your mind stuttered at the words while your body visibly jerked at them. The squadron cut their conversation short and looked to you. The amusement between them quickly faded, yet even this attention had heat crawling through you.
“Let’s get this over with.” Hunter gruffed while putting on his helmet. The rest followed suit and training began.
The session was as brutal as the day prior, starting with sparring and finishing with blaster drills. You didn’t do much better than the day prior, but you were proud to have left with no new fractures. By the next morning you could barely leave bed.
But ‘little princess’ was enough to push you up.
You arrived at the training room early. It was much smaller than the usual arenas, scattered with mannequins instead of physical obstacles. You traded your armor for a form-fitting suit similar to the blacks troopers wore. Without a helmet, you felt exposed—but exhilarated.
When the doors slid open, your pulse quickened. With composure your mother would admire, you smoothed your expression and smiled. “Nice of you boys to join me.”
A small smirk lifted Hunter’s lips as he regarded you. “Senator.” he greeted, his gaze sweeping over your form. The word almost caused your smile to falter, reminding you of the misconception they were under. 
They made their introductions before Hunter, hand at his hip, gestured for you to advance. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
The soreness that wracked your body protested when you squared your shoulders. “I was born ready.” Hopefully your feigned confidence won them over.
The way the leader’s head dipped with a small laugh said it did. Even from a distance, the sound reverberated through you to your core.
“Don’t worry,” Wrecker’s large hand clapped down on your shoulder and right onto an unseen bruise. “We’ll take it easy on ya!”
Crosshair rolled a toothpick between his lips. “Easy’s not our style, Wrecker.” You met his still skeptical stare, not backing down from the challenge.
“I can handle it.”
He snorted, flicked away his toothpick, and strode over to you. Leaning in he said in a low, snippy voice, “Better keep up, princess.”
As much as the nickname heated your blood, you maintained your smile, determined to earn their respect. “I intend to.” You said in an equally low, taunting tone.
From the very beginning, their training style was a complete turn around compared to the borderline abuse you endured while in armor.
Hunter set the pace, showing you rapid movements to prove your reflexes. When a moment of exhaustion hit and you noticeably slowed, Hunter teased, “I thought you said you’d keep up.”
Sagging your shoulders, you rolled back your head with a laugh. “Alright, maybe I wasn’t born for this.”
“We sure were.” Wrecker laughed and took over, launching into instruction about utilizing your body weight against an opponent. He demonstrated on Crosshair, who loudly hissed in protest. Wrecker put a shoulder into Crosshair’s abdomen and tossed him over his shoulder like a sandbag. 
Crosshair struggled against his brother’s hold, until he landed safely on the ground. He snarled at Wrecker, then caught the amused smile tugging at your lips. With a grunt of annoyance, he averted his gaze and casually placed a toothpick back between his lips, feigning indifference.
“C’mon, now you try,” Wrecker encouraged as you stepped close. He used his massive hands to reposition your torso into a bent over position. “Like this, see? You gotta feel the power through your whole body!” His bubbly enthusiasm made it hard to take the movement seriously.
His demeanor wasn’t your only distraction. Despite your mother’s disregard for you, as the daughter of a politician, people were always careful with you. Between their ruthless training of you as ‘Phi’ and their gentle instruction as a ‘Senator,’ you were finding them more and more captivating.
Their presence was intoxicating.
Tech used a more methodical style of instruction. His hands deftly maneuvered your body into a slightly different form. “Optimal form is crucial,” he explained. His fingers lingered just a moment too long on your spine, sending an unexpected shiver down your back. With one hand he pressed your bruised shoulder lower.
Your teeth clenched against the pain, a quiet whine making its way past your lips. Tech immediately released his hand, observing you with a tilted glance. “Interesting,” he whispered with curiosity that pulled your eyes to his. Behind those brown eyes of his, something passed through. He blinked once, twice, and stepped back.
The moment went unnoticed as Echo chimed in. “Throw your weight behind it and aim for his diaphragm.” Wrecker tried to chuckle, but you cut him off by doing just that. Despite your best efforts, he didn’t even flinch. A chorus of chuckles erupted around you, but it felt good to join their lighthearted banter instead of getting the kriff kicked out of you.
The training continued until you were slick with sweat. You were exhausted, sure, but the exhilaration you felt in the beginning only grew with every brush with the men.
Though throughout the trading, Crosshair paid the experience little interest.  He meandered the outskirts of the room, only chiming in when you had a misstep. Finally, winded but grinning, you let yourself sink to the floor. Crosshair sauntered over, standing behind you as he shifted his weight onto one foot.
His weight shifted onto one foot and postured over you. “Looks like what they say about senators is true.” He snorted, but the bite his voice carried when you were Phi was missing.
You leaned back, hands propped behind you, and squinted up at him. “And what’s that?”
His keen eyes scanned you, briefly pausing on your heaving chest before meeting your gaze again. “You’re all talk.”
Crosshair maintained a smug expression while his brothers fell silent, their attention fixed on the two of you. For the first time since training began, the ache in your nose surfaced in your mind. The memory of Crosshair's initial blow hung in the air as you carefully considered the situation, your tongue slipping over your teeth. He didn't realize it, but as you sat there inches from his feet, he was perched right within your reach. His guard was down, dismissing you as a non-threat.
The backhanded comment about Senator inaction was the deciding factor in your next move. You could always tolerate insults aimed at you. The rough training was even tolerable if it meant a means to your purpose. 
Calling out a senator’s - your sister’s - resolve, however, was a step too far.
In one swift motion, you fell back, hooked an arm around his ankle, and yanked his foot out from under him. Crosshair's arms swung through the air, desperately trying to catch his balance, but he tumbled to the ground with a thud, a gasp of air forced from his lungs. Lounging back on one elbow, you kept his ankle cradled firmly in your arm.
The rest of Clone Force 99 tried - and failed - to stifle their laughter. Eventually, they gave him the same round of laughter you received. Crosshair shoved up on his elbows with a scowl. The twitch in his lip betrayed the amusement nipping at him. Grunting with a roll of his eyes, he pushed you off his foot. “Lucky shot.”
You raised your eyebrows with a satisfied hum, then let yourself fall back onto the training mat. As you lay there, staring up at the bright ceiling and still catching your breath with a laugh lingering on your tongue, you felt an unfamiliar sensation—happiness.
All your life, you’d been chasing after your sister, constantly seeking your family's approval. You had never been allowed to simply exist or pursue anything for yourself.
But laying there, beaten and exhausted, you felt strangely good.
Wrecker’s face appeared above you with a lopsided smile. He extended a hand as he said, “Now, where’d you learn to do that?”
Groaning, you accepted his hand and he lifted you with ease. “It comes with having a sister,” you replied. The mention of your sister brought a bubble of anxiety to the surface and Lama Su’s warning pricked you.
“Ha! Just like us then.” With his hand still clasping yours, Wrecker steadied you by gently pressing his other hand against the small of your back.
Your face heated, though it was already flushed from training, and you quickly cleared your throat, stepping out of his grasp. Brushing off imaginary dust from your thighs, did your best to sound casua. “I’m curious,” you said, eager to switch topics, “how’s training that trooper Nala Se told me about?”
Just like mentioning your sister had done to you, bringing up the trainee cast a shadow over the troopers’ mood, which only heightened your anxiety.
“Don’t remind us.” Wrecker gruffed. “It’s bad enough we’re missing out on missions and we’re stuck with a reg.”
“Reg?” You repeated.
Echo sighed with exasperation. “Regular clone.” The way you muddled your face prompted the others to elaborate on their own differences. Though you knew Clone Force 99 was different, you hadn’t realized the full extent until now. You understood now why Echo was the least brutal in his training. With his origins as a regular clone, he sympathized.
Lama Su’s conversation with them finally made sense. He was stoking a fire meant to burn you out. 
You laughed nervously, “Surely it can’t be that bad.”
Hunter rubbed the bridge of his nose, dreading the afternoon ahead. “Trust us, you’re showing more potential than this guy.” 
They all launched into a conversation about the trainee's abysmal performance, not realizing the irony. Meanwhile, Tech stood back, focused on his datapad, occasionally looking up at the group- at you.
Walking away from the group, you tried to peek at his screen. “What are you looking at?”
Tech glanced up at you and quickly tucked the device away. “I was reading up on some political matters.” He adjusted his goggles and glanced at his brothers still chatting away. “Nothing you are not already appraised of.”
Mouthing an ‘oh’ you followed his gaze t back to the others. They looked so different now, discussing the reg amongst them, than they did just moments ago. “Why exactly are you here?” Tech questioned, you could feel his attention on you.
Not bothering to meet Tech’s stare, you answered without hesitation. “To make a difference the only way I can.”
From that point on, a cycle began. Every morning they trained you as the Senator and every afternoon you received a beating as Phi. 
Knowing their distaste for Phi was completely unrelated to you may have eased your anxiety but it didn’t make your training any easier.
That came with your mornings with Clone Force 99 and, on occasion, an even meeting.
The first time you ran into them outside of training happened when you’d snuck off to comm your sister. After stealing a holocom from the medical facility, you wandered the corridors for a few nights to find the best place to reach her. You always worried about an unexpected visitor in your barrack room. Wrapped in a cloak, you huddled beside a viewport, lost in thought as you stared at the device in your hands.
It had been the longest stretch you’d gone without speaking to your sister. Nerves kept your fingers hovering over the controls, practicing how you'd greet her, when suddenly your vision went dark. Your hands dropped the holocom in surprise, but it never hit the ground. 
“Look who we found!” Wrecker’s boisterous voice boomed, warm and close, as his large form pressed up behind you.
Letting out a startled breath, you gently pulled his hands away from your eyes. Standing before you were Hunter and Crosshair, both of whom looked amused.
Hunter practically sauntered forward as he offered you the holocom back. "Caught you," he teased, handing the holocom back to you with a sly grin. His eyes dipped as your fingers brushed against his, he shot a question with smirk at you. “What are you doing out here so late?”
You clutched the device a bit more securely and shrugged. "Just needed a quiet spot to contact my sister," you admitted.
Crosshair raised an eyebrow, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and pointing it at you. "And you chose the coldest corridor on Kamino for your heartfelt chat?" he was unconvinced.
You spun the device nervously in your hands. “I didn’t think anyone would be out at this time.”
The silver haired clone gave a low chuckle, twirling the toothpick between his fingers. "Well, don't let us interrupt your cozy little conversation.”
“We’re headed to the canteen for a bite to eat, you should come.” Wrecker suggested, resting his hands on your shoulder.
Hunter nodded in agreement. "You’re right about one thing - it’s quieter this time of night. Less regs to get in the way."
Wrecker grinned wide and leaned in closer, giving you a gentle shake as his presence nudged you forward. "Besides, it's warmer there!"
You certainly felt warmer, but not just from the prospect of a heated room. Glancing down at the holocom, you wondered if your sister was even awake. Unable to resist their invite, you stashed the device away and smiled. “Alright, why not? Lead the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Crosshair said in a way that made you roll your eyes. He could make anything sound sarcastic.
Joining them turned out to be a worthy trade. Crosshair and Hunter sat across from you and Wrecker. Wrecker made a habit of pushing into your space, offering bites of his favorite bits, while Crosshair and Hunter discussed your upcoming training sessions as Phi—a topic you found less than thrilling. Instead, you chose to bask in Wrecker’s warm attention.
Despite his high energy and monstrous strength, Wrecker proved to be the most gentle of the batch. Always the first to help you to your feet or catch you when you stumbled. His touch light, the calluses of his hands only ever brushing you. The skinship was a new experience for you, but one you wanted more of each time.
After your last bite of a chocolate morsel, Wrecker caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed a thumb over the corner of your mouth, dragging your lip down with the pressure of his touch.
“Got a little somethin’ there,” Wrecker chuckled, showing you the smear of chocolate on his thumb. “Guess I’m not the only messy eater ‘round here.” His smile crinkled his eyes as he dipped his thumb into his mouth to suck off the sweet remnant.
The casual intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on you, though it seemed to escape him. He turned back to his plate, completely missing the heat rising to your face. As a soft smile lilted your lips, you shut your eyes and leaned into Wrecker’s form. Surrounded by them, you felt a wave of contentment—you could happily spend all your free time like this
Wrecker perked up, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he felt your weight against him. He sat stock still for a moment, glancing between you and his brothers. Gradually, he relaxed into your touch and reached an arm around you.
“H-Hey,” he stammered slightly, patting a hand on your hip, “What’s all this?”
A foot knocked into yours from beneath the table. Peeking out from under an eyelid, you met Hunter’s lopsided smile and received another gentle tap. “Don’t be falling asleep on us. It wouldn’t be a good look for us to be carrying your limp body back.”
“Is the little princess tired?” Crosshair added lightly, a rare hint of playfulness in his tone.
Closing your eye once more, you hummed in agreement. Sitting alone with them in a mess hall, sharing a meal and laughing under the harsh lighting, you felt completely at peace.
Your mother had meant this all to be a punishment. She couldn’t have imagined that this place, these men, would heal a part of you you hadn’t realized was broken. They built you up and their training made you feel strong. They never admitted to it while you were in armor, but from their observations of the Senator you were improving.
Something you showcased one afternoon as Phi. During a drill with dummy droids, you found yourself blindsided by a metallic blow to your back. Another droid seized you by the neck and hurled you about twenty feet, leaving you crumpled on the ground as the simulation abruptly ended.
Still seeing stars, you heard the familiar cadence of Crosshair’s footsteps. “Get up.” Crosshair growled from above you.
Twisting onto your side, you struggled to catch your breath. Crosshair’s helmet angled to the side as he clicked his tongue, shoving his heal into your hip. “I said get up.” He punctuated his words with another kick. The sharp pain instantly boiled up weeks of frustration and pain.
Not a single thought registered with you as you snapped. As fast as a hydrosnake, you lashed out, looped an arm around his ankle and thrashed him back as you had before. This time your training took over.
You didn’t stop at holding him by his foot. No, you pulled his leg to the side, opening his hips, and pinned his thigh under your knee. Before he could grab at you, you pressed your torso across his, driving an elbow into the side of his helmet. Your hands clasped behind his bicep, effectively locking him in place.
Crosshair thrashed against you as his free hand hammered into the soft spot between your chest and shoulder plates. With every hit, you tightened your grip on him. His vile threats drowned out the sound of Wrecker’s stomping towards the two of you. 
A large hand ripped you by the back of your neck, instantly detangling you from the sniper. “Not so tough now, are ya?” Wrecker taunted.
Dangling in the air, your legs kicked and fingers scratched at Wrecker’s fingers. The fingers that otherwise delicately touched you choked you in more ways than one. Crosshair shot up from the ground, ripping off his helmet to expose his seething expression. 
“Wrecker!” Echo’s voice rang out from the sidelines, but his veiled command did little to deescalate the situation.
The sarcastic, teasing Crosshair who interacted with you as a senator was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he whipped a finger at you, a silent but unmistakable threat as he closed in on you.
It was Tech that quickly slid between you, effectively barring Crosshair from getting his hands on you. “Crosshair.” Tech’s tone was firm, if not altogether scolding. “You kicked them while they were incapacitated. Therefore, their actions were justified, while your reaction is not.”
Crosshair shook with rage, eyes burning into you past Tech's shoulder. The silent threat of his pointed finger became a promise.
“Wrecker, drop him.” Hunter ordered he yanked Wrecker’s arm down. 
Wrecker begrudgingly released you, setting you down with a rough thud, but you quickly steadied yourself, brushing off the dust. Your breath was labored, but you didn’t falter under Crosshair’s glare. It didn’t matter who Crosshair thought you were at this point, he was just being cruel. It fully pissed you off more than anything up to that point. Tension hung in the air, and with each passing second, your urge to snap grew stronger.
Tech stepped aside and Hunter’s stern gaze moved between you and Crosshair. “Are we done?”
Crosshair let out a low growl before reluctantly shoving his helmet back on with a quick twist. You, on the other hand, weren’t done and needed to calm down fast.
“You’ll never be worth our time,” Crosshair said with venom. “You fight like a child.”
That simmering urge burst through. You lunged forward, craned your head back, and bashed the front of your helmet into his. The old wound on your nose flared, but watching Crosshair thrown back and stumbling dulled the pain to an ache.
He shook it off quickly enough and charged you again, narrowly missing as Echo intercepted him.
While you regained your balance, Tech fell in beside you, gently catching you by the forearm. You were too busy wheezing to notice the strangeness in Tech’s assisting you as Phi. While you watched Hunter and Echo work to calm Crosshair, Tech brought his head closer, whispering for only you to hear, “Do not antagonize him. You’ve already had one broken nose, let’s not aim for another.”
All of your burning rage cooled in an instant. You slowly looked at the technician, whose eyes watched you intensely from behind his helmet. Something in his gaze drowned out all other sounds around you. He looked at you differently from how the others ever had.
You had no idea how he knew, but the way he looked at you made it clear: Tech knew exactly who you were.
He leaned closer, his voice a low, amused murmur. "It was obvious." Your head jerked back as if to say ‘how was it obvious?’
Sensing your immediate tension, he added quickly, "To me, at least. The others don’t seem to have noticed." He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Crosshair remained restrained before looking back at you. "We'll manage Crosshair. You should head to the medical facility to have your nose examined."
“Tech-” You tried to whisper but Tech cut you off, spinning you towards the exit. You didn’t wait for him to tell you again.
You did manage to hear Tech quip, “For the record, Crosshair, that would be twice now they bested you.” You made sure you were out the door by the time Crosshair turned on his brother.
Tech was right to send you to get checked out. You’d avoided a broken nose, but the swelling did need attention. You were still in armor when you got back to your room. Dropping down onto a storage tote, you set your helmet between your feet. Elbows on your knees, you sat looking out over the swath of ocean beyond your windows. 
The steady drum of rain against your window helped soothe your nerves, which had barely eased since you left the training grounds. You sat there for a while, combing through your time on Kamino, searching for any clue as to how Tech figured out who you were. With his keen mind, anything seemed possible, but you still wondered when you slipped up.
The sound of your barrack door opening snapped you out of concentration. You couldn’t reach for your helmet fast enough when someone said,“You need not bother with that”
You whipped around, twisting in your spot. Sans helmet and alone, Tech stood in your room. He’d already seen your face and touched your body, but this felt like you were meeting for the first time.
You slowly stood, picking at your fingertips. “Hi,” was all you managed to croak out as the door shut behind him.
It must've been an odd sight, you thought. The face of a senator on the body of a trooper. You snuck a glance at your reflection in the window. The sight was familiar to you now, but you remembered the juxtaposition taking time to get used to. You weren’t happy that the first time Tech was seeing you as you, your hair was stuck in a bird’s nest of a bun with crooked hairs jutting out at all angles
Tech said your name and something in your chest lurched at the sound. “If I am correct,” He said as moved his goggles up his nose. “-And I usually am, that is your real name. Is it not?” He remained standing just at the entrance of your room.
Your lips tucked into your mouth as you nodded slowly, still unsure about what to even say. “How did you know?”
Upon your admission Tech walked closer, free of the tension you carried. “Observation and deduction.” He explained, stepping around the tote separating you to take you in fully. Unlike when you portrayed Phi or the Senator, you had never noticed him observing you with such explicit curiosity.
Tech circled you, one hand cradling his elbow and the other holding his chin. “I was fairly certain Crosshair broke the trooper’s nose during the initial altercation. When we met in the medical facility, I noticed a distinct mark on your nose—an odd thing for a distinguished guest such as a Senator.” He moved around your right side, his finger gently pressing into your shoulder. “To confirm my suspicions, I applied pressure to a region I hypothesized would be tender if my assumptions were correct.”
"Your reaction confirmed it," Tech concluded, stepping back to give you space. "It was subtle, but it was enough for me to piece together the truth about your dual identities."
He took a seat on the tote facing the window and pulled out his datapad, tapping away as he continued. “Still, I didn’t have an explanation as to why a senator would be here like this. Until you mentioned your sister, which finally prompted me to do a bit of research.” Tech angled his datapad towards you, displaying a news article with a photo of your sister. “I must admit, the resemblance is uncanny. However, with her being accounted for on Coruscant, it would prove impossible for her to be on Kamino.”
He pressed a button and a photo of a stoic family appeared - your parents standing behind you and your sister. You only got a glance in before Tech pulled it back to his face. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the photo. “Besides, while the two of you do share similar features, you are far more… captivating.” Tech looked up at you, still standing beside him. “I could never confuse the two of you.”
Your breath hitched at ‘captivating.’ No one had ever remotely said that to you. It was always either you could pass for twins or your sister was the more fortunate child. Coming from Tech, such a logical and blunt man, it took your breath away. He saw no point in undue praise or flattery; to him, he was merely stating facts. It melted you.
You lowered yourself next to him, knees turned in his direction. “Why haven’t you told the others?”
Tech thought for a moment, his eyes shifting to the side as he considered your question “I do not know your reason for anonymity, but I respect your decision and will not jeopardize that. Your privacy is your own.” He nodded, pivoting to fully face you. “And I find I rather enjoy being the only one to know this about you.”
The tension in your shoulders ebbed, replaced by a fluttering that started in your chest and made breathing a manual task. You caught your reflection again, feeling frustrated that in such a moment you looked so disheveled. You balled your fists tightly enough that your fingernails dug into your palms, embarrassed that he offered such compliments to someone like you.
“Why are you making such a face?” Tech asked.
You watched yourself a second longer before offering him a sad smile. “I think I know now why you wear those goggles.”
Tech’s brows pulled together. “They alter the way light enters my eye to correct my eye’s refractive errors.” You sat back, blinking at the explanation, humor coming to your smile. Tech kept a serious face, not understanding the nuances you were attempting. “They help me see,” He clarified in a flat tone.
You yielded a small laugh, leaning over to tap his knee. “I know, I was trying to say you must need them if you think I’m the pretty sister.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized how mean they sounded. Not just insulting Tech’s taste, but fully airing the distaste you held for yourself. Your smile dropped and along with your eyes to the hand still on his knee.
A drop of panic hit your gut as you started pulling your hand away. “I’m sorry, I-”
Tech grabbed your wrist and you couldn’t react before he hushed you, “Get down.” He said, pulling you both down to the floor. He ducked his head, pushing yours down and pulling you flush against him in one motion. His hand cupped over your mouth just before you heard the door open. Two sets of footsteps echoed in. Whoever it was, they were too far away for you to get a clear image of them in the window’s reflection.
You craned your neck, trying to get a look but Tech held you fast.
“His armor isn’t here.” Crosshair’s sharp voice rung out. “The little snake isn’t home.”
Hunter answered with a sigh, “Cross, none of us like this but you need to ease up. The sooner we get him trained, the sooner we get rid of him.” The two of them made themselves at home, walking around on a light inspection of your space.
Tech kept you both completely still, staying so silent you weren’t sure he was even breathing. Which was impressive considering that between the intruders and being positioned between Tech’s legs you were having a hard time regulating your own sounds.
One set of footsteps quieted. “Would you look at that?” Crosshair snarled. “Looks like the reg has a little crush.” The sound of paper snapping told you he found the picture of your sister hanging from your mirror. The level of agitation in his voice made you worry for the next time Crosshair caught you in uniform.
“That might be why I-” Hunter stopped mid-sentence. You heard footsteps shuffle in place.
“What is it?” Crosshair pressed.
A moment passed before Hunter continued. “It’s nothing. We should go. You can play nice later.” Crosshair made a noise of frustration, and the two of them left the room.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Tech eased his grip on you. His arms hung beside you while you instinctively sagged against him in relief. You twisted around to ask, “What were they doing in here?”
“My guess would be that Hunter wanted Crosshair to make amends.” You could see a thought turning over in him. “And I would say Hunter either just realized the situation or is on the very cusp of doing so.”
“How did they-”
“We have always known which barrack was yours.” Tech answered before you could get the question out. He glanced away momentarily, considering his words carefully. “I advised them early on to leave well enough alone.”
The two of you held each other's gaze for a moment, and Tech's expression softened, becoming more reflective. “I did say I enjoyed being the only one to know your identity,” he murmured. “What I neglected to mention is that I took measures to keep it that way.” Gently, he lifted a knuckle to your cheekbone, brushing back a stray hair. The corner of his mouth ticked upwards.
“It doesn’t bother you - not really knowing me?” You asked.
As Tech began to help untangle the two of you from your hiding spot, he responded. “We may not have had traditional introductions, but I know all that I need to.” You pulled your legs beneath you, reaching out for Tech as he stood. He gripped your hand firmly and pulled you up.
With a slight grunt as he helped you to your feet, Tech continued, “You are resourceful and brave. These qualities are not just observed; they are proven through your actions and decisions here.” Tech’s voice carried a respect and a hint of admiration that felt more personal than his usual factual observations.
“And while I may not know every detail of your past or every layer of your personality yet, I understand your core—your competence, your strength, and your commitment to your goals. These are the attributes that define you, not just the name you carry or the role you play.”
Tech bent over and plucked your helmet from the floor. “Plus, as a clone, a name doesn’t hold a great deal of value for me.” He held the helmet in his hands, He rotated the helmet, examining it before gently handing it back to you. “Does that answer your question?”
Nodding in slight awe, you gently accepted the helmet and immediately dropped it, opting instead to quickly wrap your arms around his waist. “Thank you, Tech.” 
Tech stiffened slightly, the rush of adrenaline visible as his posture tightened—a clear sign of his surprise at the physical closeness. This type of interaction was uncharted territory for him. In the window’s reflection, he watched the two of you. Your face was tucked into his chest, hidden from view, but he could feel the tremor of your breathing. Unsure of what else to do, Tech lightly touched your head. “O-of course.”
Tech had a myriad of questions for you about your past and your motivations.Holding you in that moment, he decided, was enough. The questions could wait for another day.
The next morning's training session was particularly challenging for you. It was hard to ignore Hunter's scrutinizing gaze. He watched you as if decoding every movement, his eyes sharp and probing. Tech's earlier observations were spot on—Hunter was definitely onto something.
For once, you found yourself eagerly awaiting the end of the session. As soon as it was over, you hustled away faster than usual, leaving Clone Force 99 to prepare yourself for that evening. You were going to tell them the whole truth.
After mentally rehearsing several scenarios multiple times, you donned your armor and headed for the training facilities. However, as you stepped out of your room, you nearly collided with Nala Se. 
She didn’t flinch, embodying the typical Kaminoan stillness. Towering above you, she blinked slowly, her gaze piercing. “Before you go, I must see to your injuries,” Nala Se stated matter-of-factly. Without waiting for your response—accustomed to your practiced silence—she turned and headed towards the medical wing.
You followed quietly, your mind racing as you pondered which injuries she referred to. Certainly, your nose and the rest of your face still ached from the previous day's exertions, and your torso was a tapestry of bruises, but these were all injuries that had been treated before. Moreover, Nala Se had scarcely crossed your path in recent weeks. Initially, she had helped you avoid detection, but she had not intervened since.
Her sudden appearance was less than comforting.
In the quiet of the medical facility, oddly void of the typical droids, Nala Se motioned to a bed. “Have a seat and remove your helmet.”
You were so preoccupied with thoughts of how your tardiness for training might disrupt your planned conversations that you barely registered her instructions. Nala Se said your name, snapping you back to the present.
Removing your helmet, you looked across the bed at her and realized her gaze was focused past you. It hadn’t been her calling your name.
Outside, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair were on their way to the training facilities, helmets under their arms, when they noticed the Senator entering one of the medical rooms. Today, you weren’t cloaked in your typical attire but wore a robe of deep purple with gold threading, which seemed oddly formal.
Crosshair snorted, “Looks like we need to ease up on our little princess.”
Tech, who had been absorbed in his datapad, looked up. “To what are you referring?”
“I told you she was actin’ weird.” Wrecker said, more concerned than accusatory, ignoring Tech’s question. “Should we do somethin’?”
Echo, looking to clarify for Tech, gestured with his prosthetic arm. “We just saw the Senator enter the medical facility. And yes, we should check on her before heading to training.”
Tech paused, processing the information. He knew you well enough to be aware of your usual post-training soreness and kept an eye on the medical records associated with your after-training exams. You hadn’t sustained injuries severe enough recently to necessitate a deviation from your normal routine. He buzzed with suspicions and worried over the implications of your unexpected visit to the medical facility at such an unusual time.
“Let’s get this over with.” Hunter said, moving forward with all but Tech who stood in place a second longer. If his suspicions were correct, this was not going to go well.
Back inside, you were faced with your reflection. Blinking back confusion, your mind struggled to process what you were seeing. Stepping towards you, adorned in the traditional regalia of your homeworld, was your sister, looking every bit the senator she was meant to be, her hair elegantly braided back with strands of gold and pearls woven through. The purples and golds of her dress made her appear radiant and regal—so much like your mother, and so unlike you in your scuffed armor and haphazardly tied hair.
Nala Se wordlessly removed herself from the room, making the entire setup evident.
“Sister?” Your voice barely whispered as you took a hesitant step forward, half-fearing that any sudden movement might cause her to vanish like a mirage.
Her eyes widened, her pace slowing, as she scanned your face. Her face, so alike and unlike yours, crumpled with emotion, her lip trembling. Then, with a burst of energy, she ran towards you, hands reaching out from the folds of her cloak. You caught her in a tight embrace as she collided into you, her presence grounding the surreal moment.
She didn’t speak at first, only managing to choke back muffled sobs against your shoulder. You rested your head against hers, holding her close, and savored the familiar scent of her perfume—a reminder of days long past. “I’ve missed you,” you murmured, your voice not choked with sadness but steady and comforting. You had always been the pillar for her to lean on; this time was no different.
Your sister pulled back, rubbing tears away with the heel of her hand. She managed a shaky smile, laughing through another small sob. "I’ve been so worried. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner."
You shook your head with a smile, gently gripping her shoulders. "You have more important things to do. Like, I don’t know, running the galaxy," you joked. Pulling her into another hug, you held her close for a moment before stepping back to reassess her. "Though… what are you doing here?"
Your sister took your hand, her grip soft against your calloused skin, and squeezed it tightly. "I’ve come to take you home. Mother—"
"Mother?" you interrupted, your tone sharpening as you pulled your hand away.
“We need you-”
“We?” You repeated louder. The joy of your sister’s visit dimmed the instant you remembered why you were standing together in a Kaminoan facility in the first place. “If this is for her, you shouldn’t be here.”
Your sister pressed a hand to her chest, perturbed by your tone. You’d never spoken to her like that. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Swallowing the instinct to give in to her, you reached for your helmet. “I don’t need to. You know why I’m here and I intend to see it through. You should leave-”
The sounds of the doors whirring open cut you off as you snapped your helmet on in a hurry.
Suddenly confused, your sister opened her mouth to say something, but instead you heard a familiar voice and the strength you’d maintained was replaced by panic.
The sudden arrival of Crosshair and the rest of Clone Force 99 sliced through the tense atmosphere like a vibroblade. “How touching,” Crosshair drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rounded the privacy divider at the room's entrance. “What is our little princess doing alone with a reg? I didn’t realize you had a pet.” His cold gaze landed on you, igniting a tremor in your hands.
Your sister’s expression twisted in a stomach churning and familiar way. She scoffed and turned, “Little princess?” She spat the words out, her disdain palpable. You felt like you might gag yourself.
Your attention snapped to Tech who was just as stunned as you’d been moments before. Apparently he’d not predicted this. Hunter kept a straight face, eyebrows a little furrowed. If he had any suspicions about your dual identity, this chaotic reveal was likely skewing his thoughts. Echo, ever the sentinel, stood slightly taller, his posture tightening as if preparing for conflict. Wrecker towered behind the group, watching on with a rare sense of seriousness.
Crosshair, shifting his weight casually and placing a toothpick between his lips, continued to provoke. “What? Don’t want him knowing about our little fun together?” His wording would’ve made you laugh had the situation been different. He stirring up a misunderstanding for his own amusement.
Your sister didn’t bite. She cocked an eyebrow, giving the sniper a challenging stare before turning her attention back to you. “Are these the clones that have been training you?” Her tone was sharp, and her expression mirrored the stern demeanor of your mother.
Caught between weeks of training to maintain silence in your armor and the escalating tension, you found yourself paralyzed, struggling to formulate a response. It seemed all you could do was breathe through the growing panic.
“You two know each other?” Wrecker piped up.
Your sister, her confusion morphing into frustration, glanced quickly back at the group. “Answer me,” she demanded, her voice heavy with authority that did nothing to ease the stiffness of your tongue.
“You little shit,” Crosshair fumed, stepping towards you but immediately restrained by Hunter’s firm grip. Despite being held back, he snapped, “Show respect and answer her.”
Receiving his anger as an unnamed clone never felt as painful as the anger directed to you now.
Whirling on them, your sister jabbed a finger at him. “Who do you think you’re talking to, clone?” The disrespect in the way she said ‘clone’ gutted you and visibly startled Wrecker and Crosshair.
“Me?” Crosshair retorted, pointing a finger back at her. “Why are you defending him?”
“Him?” Her voice rose almost to a shrill. You reached out, trying to pull her back from the brink of the confrontation, only to have your hand sharply slapped away. She spun around to face you. “Take that ridiculous thing off!” She reached for your helmet, and this time, you reflexively slapped her hand away.
Crosshair, seething with anger, wrenched free from Hunter's grasp and charged toward you. Tech's shouts echoed behind him, but Crosshair was undeterred. He brushed past your sister with a dismissive flick, gripped the rim of your helmet with one hand, and shoved you backward with the other. Just as you tumbled to the floor, your sister retaliated, pushing him away forcefully. From your position on the ground, you didn't see it, but the sharp slap she delivered resounded through the room.
With his cheek stinging from the slap, Crosshair held his ground, his grip white-knuckled on your helmet as he turned a furious gaze on the woman standing defiantly before him. The intensity in her eyes was something entirely new to him. They locked eyes, each poised for further confrontation, when a realization dawned on Crosshair.
He’d never seen you look quite like this. In fact, you seemed like a completely different person. Dropping the toothpick from his lips, confusion replaced the anger on his face as he scrutinized the subtle differences in the face before him—slight variations in aging lines and hair length. There was more than that, Crosshair realized as he picked out the innumerable differences.
“Crosshair…” Echo said hesitantly. Still sat on the floor, you were on full display for Echo.
Wrecker’s face fell as he glanced around Crosshair at you.
Steadying a shaky breath, you gathered what composure you could and pushed yourself up off the floor. "Calm down," you whispered, touching your sister’s shoulder as you rose beside her.
Standing there, you couldn't bring yourself to look directly at Crosshair, afraid of the disgust you might see mirrored on his face. You missed the horror breaking across him. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed on your sister, silently pleading, "Sister, please."
Snapping her hand out, your sister harshly gripped your face and forced it towards the men. “You're the ones who did this to her?” She was likely referencing the scar marking your nose or the other tiny, healed wounds your helmet had dealt you over time.
Heat scorched your face as you were forcibly put on display. You reluctantly met the eyes of Clone Force 99. Crosshair’s face was pale, his brows furrowed deeply and his mouth slightly ajar in a mix of horror and disbelief. Echo and Wrecker were in similar shades of shock. Hunter, on the other hand, looked almost regretful. 
Gently removing your sister’s tight grip, you attempted to soothe her. “They didn’t know. Mother-”
“Do not blame Mother for your stupid decisions!” She screamed, gesturing a hand at you.
“Stupid decisions?” You challenged, feeling insulted. “My decisions have been for you. So I can keep you safe.”
“I didn’t tell you to do something so childish and I didn’t tell you to go and ruin your face.” You inhaled sharply at her words. She knew how to slap with more than just her hand.
Ignoring the clones, she straightened herself, her demeanor cooling into a composed facade that echoed your mother's authority. “Enough.” she stated firmly, making you straighten your posture subconsciously. “You are to come home and act as my body double at an upcoming gathering. The clones who trained you are to act as your security.” Pulling her hood up to shroud her face, you saw a glimpse of your gentle sister once more. “We will discuss your future afterwards.”
With that, she was gone. 
Left alone with the squadron, you looked to the ceiling as opposed to facing them immediately.
Tech approached, saying your name. The others whipped their heads to him, the familiarity in his tone throwing them off. “Are you alright?” He asked gently.
“You knew about this?” Echo accused, turning on Tech.
“Of course I did.” Tech said quickly and dismissively.
Crosshair's hands clenched into fists repeatedly, his anger barely contained. "Was this all a game to you?" he growled, his gaze intense and accusing as he finally turned to you.
You were to weary to be angry at him. How he could ever think being pummeled everyday for weeks was anything close to a game was beyond you.
Meeting his fierce stare you offered a weak smile. It lasted only a second before it fell with your eyes. “No, never. I was sent here for training… I didn’t mean to deceive you.” Your mouth pressed into a tight line. “I’m sorry you were dragged into this.”
The room fell silent. Wrecker, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. "So, all this time, you were…”
“Yes,” You finished for him. “But I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I’ve been taking all the training seriously.”
“It shows.” Echo said softly.
Hunter stepped forward. “Alright, we can sort this all out later.” He gave you a firm nod. “As a team. But right now, we have a mission.” He extended you a hand and a smirk, an offering. “The rest… you can explain on the way.”
Your chest caved at the sight. Taking his hand you choked out, “Gladly.”
Tech adjusted his goggles with a smile. “Then that settles it.” Brandishing his datapad, he started scrolling through the screen. “And I have compiled a list of questions that will clarify this entire ordeal.”
Hunter walked beside you, placing an encouraging hand on your back. “Let’s get going.”
Echo and Wrecker still looked conflicted, but nodded in agreement with Hunter's decision, and even Crosshair, though still visibly upset, did not contest.
Tech gave one final note. “All things considered, that went far better than even I could have predicted.”
@bruh-myguy-what i hope you like <3
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crushh-existz · 4 months ago
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Streamer Ellie HCs
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Warnings: lower case intended..., NOT proofread at all..., its actually so shit so shh
-loser!ellie who made it through freshman and sophmore year of being a complete loner other than Jesse and Dina keeping her company but even then, she had absolutely no classes with them after freshman year.
-loser!ellie mid sophmore year she got bored and streamed her playing filled fortnite squads (it took her 4 hours trying to set it up with the most grainy ass camera she could find from joel that he used when he worked in customer service. she also got 10 views MAX!!)
-loser!ellie she looked back at the footage after school one day and her ass went onto capcut and put the most stupidest clips she could find of herself and posted it on one of her many alt accounts on tiktok.
after rewatching that bitch at least 20 times and giggling her ass off, she went to bed swaddled in her dino sheets
she didn't even realize she had fallen asleep at around 2 am and woke up super late, forgetting her phone at home
-loser!ellie had to sit through all her classes bored as FUCKK without her brawl stars to get through her boring classes (dont ask it was the stupidest mobile game i could think of and idk anything abt it) and the only game that wasn't locked away by GoGuardian was slope.io (her highscore is 23)
-loser!ellie went about her day as jolly as one who is drowning in assignments could be. she hung out with jesse and dina at lunch and surviving her last two periods before walking home humming her favorite songs pretending she has her phone and wired headphones (that most definately need to be retired after 6 years of torture, half of which were from joel using them)
once she actually got home, kicking off her butchered converse onto her bedroom floor as she flopped onto her bed
-loser!ellie finally got to open her phone to browse through her notifications and streaks dina for some reason made her keep, she noticed a fat chunk of them being from tiktok
at first she thought it was just jesse getting home early and sending her posts but it was actually from her stupid capcut video (she didnt even remove the watermark at the end)
her video for some reason blew up.. she literally flew up to sit on her bed scrolling through all the comments.
"wait why r u actually funny"
"mind you this is my first impression of u"
"why is ur camera quality worse than my dead grandmas health.."
"in my mind we're actually bestfriends come out im in ur closet."
of course among that, theres also random hate comments like
"this pmo" and petty shit like that.
she giggled by replying to them with the most stupidest things
@/player222schesticals im js a natural arent i
@/user283678383257819 i hope it lasts
@/therealauthormorgan911 erm tell her dust i said hi
@/divaa283628 how'd u know i was a scissor sister dafauq
-streamer!ellie immediatly after she called dina "DUDE IM FLIPPING FAMOUS"
dina thought she was high off her ass and told her yeah right before hanging up on her ass.
ellie then proceeded to send a link to her alt and dina was actually blown away
"woah els.. you should pay me to be your manager."
-streamer!ellie laughed in her face (she asked dina to manage her shit a week later)
-loser!ellie's following grew and she branched her gaming to other things, mostly shorter story games that she finds off steam for 1 cent. every so often the game is actually really good with life changing plot (ellie's bawling by the end of it)
obviously she still plays stupid shooter games like fortnite and OW but she's too scared to touch COD (too many sweats she says)
-streamer!ellie absolutely LOVES to troll on GTA with Jesse it's literally her favorite thing to do EVERRR!!! the public js eats it up like candy, putting her in comps whenever she would accidently blow herself up or something (again dont know anything about this game at ALLL!!!)
-loser!ellie absolutely loves scowering tiktok for stupid little edits of herself and saving them all
she's quite cocky behind the screen and loves interacting w/ her community online but gets so awkward when she gets recognized in public or at school for the few audio clips of her going viral (it's okay cuz dina and jesse help her through it!!)
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A/N: okay chat these were just heehees and haahaas bro. i randomly decided to do it and I thought it was funny and lowk sat there and actually wrote w/o stopping.. tbh there was more to this but like i cringed and deleted all that but i liked it up until this point. there were probably part 2 if i figure out what to write and probably x reader version too FHEIWF anyway its fr shit but this was js for funsies ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
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whatusername00 · 8 months ago
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Which Baldur's Gate Characters Know How To Lace Up Their Clothing - Camp Edition
I got this idea because I noticed Gortash's shirt isn't laced properly, and then noticed Astarion's shirt isn't laced properly, so now I need to look at as many characters as I can because I can't stop noticing. And I'm about to spend too much time on this for it to stay in my brain. Starting with all characters who appear at camp (main party + others.)
Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Gale, Withers, Aylin, Mizora, Duke Ravenguard, Emmaline, and Arnell don't have lacing on their camp outfits.
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Starting with the default clothes for Tav. Yes, they know how to lace their shirt. Good job. This particular Tav is Durge, so it's good to know he didn't forget how when his brain got Swiss'd. However, it's not perfectly consistent because on the bottom 2 sets of eyelets he threads from the outside, but the third set he threads from the inside. Though this is probably intentional so the lacing doesn't hang on the inside of his shirt, so 9/10.
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Astarion, baby boy, you were so close. But unfortunately there are two pairs of eyelets where he threads one side from the outside and one from the inside. For someone who wants to appear so put together, you think he could take the two extra braincells to lace his shirt consistently. 7/10.
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Threaded consistently the whole way through...with one side. Why didn't you finish lacing your shirt? Why even lace one side if you weren't going to lace the other? Why isn't the lacing that you didn't finish shorter than the one that you did finish? All questions I can't answer because I cannot ask. 7/10 at least it's consistent.
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I couldn't get a good in game screenshot of Karlach since her lacing is on her pants, but I found a texture rip so I can work with it. So the lacing here is the same all the way through, super consistent, *mwah*, but...it's sneakily unnecessarily complicated. Typically, the lacing that laces from the inside to outside would sit on top, but it's not that way on her pants. She pulls the lacing through the eyelet, then threads it under the other part of the cross, then threads it through the top of the next eyelet. And with as much lacing as her pants have, this must have taken forever for no extra benefit. It would have been easier to let it sit on top. 8/10 its pretty though.
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Halsin. Beautiful. Gorgeous. I choose to believe the knots are hidden on the inside. No other notes. 10/10.
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I've never actually recruited Minthara so I took a picture from the BG3 wiki. Just like Halsin, beautiful. Again, I choose to believe the ends are hidden on the inside. 10/10.
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Jaheira's pants lace the same way Halsin's shirt does: perfectly. Though if the knot is hidden on the inside, I feel like that would be more uncomfortable, so I'm gonna headcannon that it ties at her waist under her shirt. Other than that, 10/10.
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Minsc's shirt uses the same model as Wyll's so everything I said there applies here, though I feel like it makes more sense for Minsc. My real gripe here is that Minsc is a liar. Talking 'bout some thrice laced pants, but I didn't see any lacing on those pants. How dare he trick me in this way. 6/10 I don't like being lied to.
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Yenna's mom may be dead, but she made sure her baby knew how to lace her shirt before she did. She may have gotten kidnapped by Orin, but she looked put together while doing it. Perfect 10/10. She deserves it after what she went through.
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After being dead for 100 years, Isobel didn't forget how to lace her armor. Gotta be put together to see her girlfriend again. 10/10 Isobel can do no wrong.
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Volo...I don't know what you've done to the front of your pants but it doesn't look good. Some of those crosses are missing. It looks sloppy. What is this. This is something I would do as a joke to see if anyone noticed. Well I noticed and I hate it. 2/10 it keeps your pants closed I guess.
That's it for the camp. I'll link other sets of characters below as I do them.
Tieflings
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