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slightlymore · 4 years

Text

red

part of the ‘soulmates collection’

(slytherin) doyoung x (ravenclaw) fem reader

others: (gryffindor) haechan | renjun mentioned like once

warnings: oral f and m, penetration, unprotected, marking m receiving, body possessiveness in a magical way (? i made this up lol I hope its not that weird. like the plot point is a little cringy but I found it hilarious as I wrote it so I hope you don’t get mad at me when you discover what’s it about lol); a lot of bickering and insults; swearing

words: 9.5k (lol)

requested by anon that wanted academic fights turn into mad sex aha I got inspired by that to make a longer fic with more depth to it (if it's alright) hope you like it! this is one of my favourite pieces I’ve written so far!!!! 👀👅👀

_____

As the rays of the sun hit the announcement board, your eyes darted on the pages filled with small characters.

A little crowd of people started to chatter behind you, trying to see the ranking sheet as well, but no one dared to come close enough to push into you - the Ravenclaw Prefect.

“Renjun? Whose dick did you suck to get 6th?” a voice giggled before a loud smack transformed the airy laugh in a dramatic “ouch”. “Lee Haechan, I swear I’ll-” but you didn’t get to hear the rest as your vision got suddenly blurry with rage and your ears started to whistle when your shoulder got bumped forcing you to make a few ungraceful steps to the side.

“What’s that face for, YLN?”

You tightened your fists.

You could have recognized that annoying voice in a thousand others: Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin Prefect and the person you hated most in the whole universe.

“Ah, right,” he hit his fist on one palm turning his head with fakely widened eyes. “You’re second place. Again.”

You hated Kim Doyoung and everything that had to do with him.

His voice? Hideous.

The fragrance of the fabric softener on his clothes? Repugnant.

His favourite dishes at the cafeteria? Revolting.

His favourite authors? Idiots.

Everything reminded you of him and one time you had a literal meltdown in a supplies shop as every notebook and pen has been seen in his backpack at a certain point.

“I see that manners are still very difficult for you to master, Kim,” you spit out his last name.

Doyoung laughed. “I apologize profusely for not following useless societal rules such as manners the way your finite mind intends.”

An echo of little “ohh” surrounded you but abruptly stopped as you threw a venomous glance at the little crowd behind you.

“Is this what you’ve been doing to get in the first place? Not following the rules?” you cocked an eyebrow at Doyoung.

The tongue inside his cheek moved around for a few seconds before he crossed his arms on his chest and got closer until his feet clashed with yours.

You didn’t step back.

“Is this an accusation?”

You pursed your lips as if thinking and Doyoung let you put on the little theatre act before he could hear your “Maybe?”

A single dry and unamused scoff came out of his lips as his eyes stared you down from head to toes.

“So you’re resorting to - this?” he gestured vaguely. “You’re that bitter that you couldn’t keep your first place for two whole semesters now?”

“Oh? It hurt so badly the first time that you kept track of it, baby boy?” you cooed.

The new nickname threw him off for a split second and although he was quick to come back to his usual expression you noticed it and you smiled triumphantly.

The crowd was collectively holding its breath.

He opened his mouth to say probably something stupid as usual when the voice of the professor interrupted you and the spell got shattered.

“Come inside little roosters. Preserve that energy for the class debate.”

Previously silent to not miss a single exchange you had with Doyoung. everyone suddenly started to chat while making their way inside the classroom.

You both still didn’t move a single muscle, your eyes still trained on each other like predators. “I said-,” the professor clicked his fingers between your faces, “-come inside.”

_____

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

Your university was overall a good place with good and proficient rules. You followed them all and you enjoyed it. But there were also a few rules you suddenly realized you hated. Like the “your seat in the study room will be your seat for the rest of the semester and whoever seats in somebody else's seat during the year, said somebody can slash their shins”.

You would have loved to see Doyoung sitting at your place. His long legs could use some kicking. But unfortunately, something even worse happened.

He was sitting right in front of you.

“Why are you here?” you added, throwing your bag on the desk in front of him and making a few of his papers fly on the floor.

Doyoung sighed seeing his stuff gently falling around and raised his eyes with the most venomous smile he could pull off.

“The Gryffindor gentleman over there-” he indicated towards his previous’ semester desk, “took my seat so I had to find another one.”

You followed his pointed finger and spotted Lee Haechan in the midst of popping a chewing gum bubble.

He winked.

You rolled your eyes.

He made an obscene gesture revolving a tongue in the cheek and hand motions.

You returned the favour with your middle finger.

“And you had to sit here of all places. You let a Gryffindor snatch your place.”

Doyoung licked his lower lip before taking it inside his mouth for a moment.

“Miss ‘manners’ and miss ‘following the rules’ is mad that I, mister ‘fuck useless rules’ and fuck ‘useless manners’ didn’t smack a boy in the head to get a desk?”

You breathed in slowly and exhaled before you could scream at him.

“I don’t want to see you every day in front of me.”

Doyoung pinched the base of his nose before speaking.

“Listen, I also don’t want to see your face this close every day for a whole semester but it is what it is. All the other seats are taken. Stop whining or go and suck Lee’s dick to get his desk instead.”

You scoffed incredulously and plopped down with force, ignoring the boy’s sighs as the movement made some other papers fall.

"You're insufferable,” he whispered.

"I am insufferable?" you stopped taking the books from your bag then suddenly dropped the heaviest one, making the whole desk tremble.

Doyoung looked at you then smirked. "You're in a worse mood than usual. Is it because you couldn't reach the top?"

He leaned in as if about to share a secret. "Are you frustrated that I'm always in your mind 24/7?"

His dark eyes looked like two abysses and suddenly you felt like falling into them. Then he blinked once, slowly, and you blinked too, the sudden silence chatter of the study room bringing you to the surface.

Fuck Slytherins and their weird-ass magnetic eyes. You wanted to smack him in the fucking face.

"So I see you keep wanting to be ridiculous as always," you replied but you both realized how soft your tone got.

You cleared your throat - don’t talk to me anymore! it said - and you opened your books, eyes unable to look at Doyoung's face.

He got the hint and leaned back into his seat amused, playing with his pencil. It rolled on his fingers, then on his knuckles and when he placed it on the desk with sudden force you jolted.

"If you want to surpass me, stop staring at my hands and get on studying."

Doyoung had to slide away with his chair for you to not reach his throat and choke him.

_____

"So do you want to choke him with his tie or do you want him to choke you with his tie?" "I want to choke you." Haechan smirked. "I'm not sure I'm into that stuff but we can try it out." "I can't believe you did this to me." "Ah come on. Everyone is having fun. He's having fun. You're the only one taking it too seriously." "I am not taking it seriously. I'm just annoyed every time I see his face. 'The best option is to reinvent yourself'" you mocked Doyoung's voice during philosophy class. "You can reinvent the world first. What kind of selfish nonsense is that?" "Slytherin nonsense. But still, he had good points to his discourse- ahi." "Go and be his friend then." "I would, but I'm stuck here with you because--ahi."

"You're always getting hit, Lee," that voice interrupted your discourse.

You rolled your eyes and breathed out so heavily that for a split moment you thought someone transformed you into a horse.

"Hit on, by girls." "I will hit you too if you don't leave my desk," Doyoung smiled peacefully. "Well," Haechan got up slowly, "I wouldn't mind that either."

Doyoung bit his lower lip amused and to your absolute shock he winked at your friend. Haechan laughed and left you two alone.

"What was that?"

Doyoung sat down ready to get to work. "Huh?"

"Were you friendly just now?"

Doyoung blinked at you as if processing the question. "Yeah? I am friendly usually."

"Why are you not friendly with me?"

Doyoung's expression suddenly trembled on his face like a mask. He looked up surprised and for a split moment, he appeared weirdly younger, with his open lips and wide eyes. You stared at each other for a few seconds and it was the first time you didn't feel like opening up his guts.

But then he smiled and it all got back to you. "Because I hate you,” he explained.

_____

The ball was okay. A normal ball just like all of the other boring balls you were forced to attend each start of the semester. No alcohol, at least not offered from the university but definitely offered by the older students. All said students dressed well, but following the decency rules which led to boring outfits.

Your red dress was the boldest thing around and Ravenclaw cheered upon your entry in the Grand Hall.

A cool Prefect? Yeah, you had to be one if you wanted to beat Kim Doyoung.

At the moment everyone liked him more since he let his people smuggle liquor into the university but you weren’t about to fall to such low standards to win.

But food? Hell yeah.

It was not illegal and everyone wanted to have pizza instead of finger food made of hell knows what.

“Y/N, if you continue like this, I’ll probably fall in love with you,” a random dude smiled, helping himself. You smiled back at him, glad that cute guys wanted to talk to you.

“Well-,” you started, ready to bat your eyelashes, but the guy suddenly jolted, the piece of pizza he was holding literally flying from his hands and landing on his face instead.

You yelped, bringing your hands to your mouth in shock, staring at the way it slowly slid from his nose down on his impeccable white shirt.

“Shit,” he threw the pizza away on the bin at his right and made his way through the crowd with spicy tomato sauce in his eyes.

“You got all kinds of pizzas and not my favourite topping,” Doyoung suddenly materialized near you with a dramatic sigh, scaring the shit out of you. “You!” you turned your head to him and pointed your finger at his face. Doyoung stared at your fingertip then at your eyes. “You did that to the guy just now!”

The boy blinked at you as if you were crazy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shook his head but when he took a piece of pizza and started to munch on it, one hand waving at you and walking towards his friends, you noticed the way he smiled.

_____

A few hours later, people were scattered around the campus, most of them in bed “sleeping”, some of them actually already sleeping since it was almost morning.

The prefects were still in the hall, wrists twisting and eyes annoyed at the chore of having to clean up after the ball.

“It’s going to take you only half an hour, my children,” the headmistress chuckled brightly. “You’re prefects for a reason. Other children don’t have your advanced magical power and would end up cleaning for a whole day. Responsibilities. Am I right?”

“She could clean in 5 minutes yet here we are,” the Gryffindor prefect mumbled after she left, leaving behind an obnoxious perfume cloud.

If the ball would have at least been fun, it would be different now, cleaning while at least being a little euphoric.

But not only was it the most boring and uneventful party ever, you also had to do Kim Doyoung’s part since he was as slow as a snail.

“Get your shit together. We can clean much faster if you get your ass up,” you stared him down with hands on your hips.

Doyoung looked up at you from the chair he was sprawled on, one hand to sustain his head, the other twisting while his finger lazily transported a flying bottle of beer across the room.

“I am working.”

You scoffed. “You’re the best at object moving. If you wanted, you could also finish everything in 5 minutes.”

The boy tilted his head to the side, suddenly focused and amused. “Are my ears failing me, or did you just compliment me?”

“If you need my praise to do your job, then yes, Kim, you’re very good at this type of magic.”

Doyoung chuckled happily and got up. With a smack of his lips, he rolled his wrists and all the trash disappeared from the floors and tables appearing into the trash cans instead. The Hufflepuff prefect whistled, impressed, and the Gryffindor sighed upon realizing he had worked his ass off for nothing.

You put your tongue in your cheek annoyed but also secretly happy he actually did it. “Floors.”

Doyoung took out his tongue in the most annoying habit he had. Your eyes involuntarily darted towards it and he smiled.

“You’re such a snake when you do that.” “Okay, crow. Deal with your floors yourself then,” he passed you and walked towards the exit.

The other prefects already left, too tired to deal with your bickering and probably relieved that someone else could clean up much faster.

You stared at his back, annoyed, then twisted your wrist to pull his body back towards you. His black jacket moved as if a gentle breeze blew across him and Doyoung stopped.

“Wait, sorry-” he laughed and turned around, his voice echoing in the gigantic empty room ringing inside your skull. “-were you perhaps trying to do-” he twisted his wrist and you yelped, feet dragging across the pavement as if your body was being pulled by an invisible force until you clashed on his chest, “-this?” he finished.

Your hands were up on his shirt and for a few moments your brain couldn’t think anything besides, first, how good he smelled, and second, it was the first time for you to actually touch each other.

“If you’re so good at this, then clean the floors as well, so we can finally go.”

He stared you down.

“Ask nicely.”

You scoffed incredulously. “I’d rather clean it with my own hands than do that.”

He smiled. "You want to kiss me so badly, Y/N."

“I-- what? Are you drunk?”

“Why are you so flustered?”

“I am--not-” you grabbed the hand he raised to cup your face, “flustered! I am appalled.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Breathing has never been a difficulty for you and you’ve always laughed at main characters in books talking so extensively about air, but at that moment, your hand still holding Doyoung’s one, your chests pressing against each other and his eyes, fuck, you actually started to slightly pant. What was wrong with him?

“If you stopped using your snake powers-” “This is no power. It’s just you being attracted to me,” he finally cupped your face and this time you didn’t move away. “Check on it. You can pull away.”

He was right. But if that wasn’t some slytherin doing then you were probably going crazy because you saw your hands move almost on their own on Doyoung’s shoulders.

Then you actually leaned in and he met you halfway.

Your limbs were trembling when he brushed his lips on yours and to your surprise, they were warm and soft.

Then he pulled you even closer and you whined for no reason besides your brain yelling ‘this is so nice!!!! we love dopamine!!!’ at you.

And you sought for some more.

When you licked his lower lips, Doyoung’s hands had a tremor on your waist but he was quick to adjust to your sudden burst of passion with the same energy.

Of all the things that you anticipated that night, making out with Kim Doyoung was definitely not one of them. Then why you felt relieved as if finally doing somethig you’ve ached to do for so long?

Did he want to kiss you?

He was currently kissing you at that moment?

Absurd.

Yet there you were, panting and desperate for each other, unable to stop drinking each other’s breaths.

“I’m taking you to my room,” he whispered and the look in his eyes was something you’ve never seen before.

____

Suffocating.

You were suffocating as your breath was taken away from your lungs at Doyoung's every touch on your back.

First your neck with his cold knuckles, then your spine to reach the zip of your red dress. He opened it slowly imitating the pace of his soft lips on your jaw. And when the fabric fell to your feet you turned around, your arms quick to pull him into a messy kiss, while his hands fell on your hips, pushing you towards the silky bed.

You sat down and got quickly on your knees to be able to reach his face again.

Doyoung, standing near the edge of the bed, closed his eyes when you drifted your attention from his lips to his neck then chest, placing a kiss on the newly exposed skin every time you made a button pop open. His abdomen twitched every time and when you reached his navel you palmed his torso up, enjoying his shaky breath when the shirt fell off his shoulders.

A little chuckle coming from you made him look down at your sultry face, the hue of the red lights and lit candles dancing on your skin. Then he stared at his own body. Dozens of kisses adorned it in the colour of your lipstick.

"If I can't mark you, I can at least do this," you raised one eyebrow at him, hands gently dealing with his belt. "Who said you can't mark me?" "Hm?" you opened his pants zip and you could have sworn that Doyoung's eyes flickered. "You really want to go around all covered in hickeys?"

The boy smiled and cupped your face, his thumb slowly caressing your lower lip. "Do it where it can't be seen then."

So you let your tongue out on your amused lips and leaned down to reach the skin above the waistband of his underwear. Your tip wetted his skin making his take in a deep breath. "Is here alright?" you whispered against his warm body.

Doyoung's hand found his place on your nape and you took it as consensus, gingerly taking his skin inside your mouth and sucking on it. A red spot already started to form and you sucked again near it, and again, before suddenly placing a kiss on his clothed bulge instead.

Doyoung drank air through his teeth at the unexpected touch and his fingers got to your shoulders, pushing you into the bed before your legs could wrap around his waist.

His tongue inside your mouth was as delicious as the silk your body was rubbing against. It made its way down your neck then chest and when it reached your perked nipples your knees buckled and you grabbed that red silk with your fists. Little soft whimpers escaped your lips and they became louder as Doyoung's fingers got between your legs. They scratched the lace of your panties and you lifted your hips as he dragged them down. The boy, then, palmed your skin and placed open kisses on it from the ankle down and every touch closer made you lose a bit of your self-control.

You really were about to fuck Kim Doyoung.

What kind of sick and twisted situation was that?

Were you bewitched?

Did he do something to you?

But when his lips reached your dripping core, tongue quick to collect your juice, it didn't matter.

If this was the consequence of you getting bewitched, you wanted it to happen every day. And you told him. You hand gripped his hair and your back arched, profanities quickly spilling out of your chest. Doyoung cupped your ass, pressing his thumbs into your flesh and you let your thighs drape over his shoulders.

Why was he that good? It honestly offended you to find out that Kim Doyoung aced pussy eating too besides everything else.

And when he stopped to breathe, you saw his eyes and his juicy lips.

It was the sexiest view you’ve ever seen in your life so you yanked his head toward your face and he obliged with a panting smile.

Making out while his long fingers pumped inside of you was the highlight of your university career, and you cared about the curriculum a lot.

And when he curled them upwards, touching spots inside of you that made you lose vision, you were ready to beg him to do it to you as often as possible.

"Cumming- I'm--ah-"

Doyoung got back between your legs and added his tongue to the action again.

It was too much.

His books flew from his shelves as you reached the highest climax of your life.

He chuckled, peppering your shaking body in soft kisses. “I thought you weren’t good at object moving.” You breathed heavily a few more moments before finally finding your voice again. Doyoung reached your lips and you shivered upon feeling his hard cock resting between your legs. He stared at your expression as he lightly hit your oversensitive clit with its tip then rubbed himself between your folds with a sigh. “You’re the one good at moving, so please, move.” The boy bit your lower lip, stretching it out a little before sucking on it, one hand to cup your hip and the other grabbing the silk near your head. He got you so wet that he didn’t need much to easily slip inside of you. He cursed with heavy breath and you wondered if your nails were leaving marks on his back skin as he moved his hips.

You didn't have Doyoung only in your brain like usual, thinking about him day and night. You finally had him physically so deep inside that you thought you were about to lose your mind.

So this was it, the sweet overwhelming sensation of being in the present instead of chasing something in the future.

It was just like everyone described it to be, everything.

But it wasn't a moment in time or space as you’ve anticipated. It was a person and that person, you realized, was Doyoung.

If your mouth wasn’t busy spilling his name out of it inside his soft lips and if his hums didn’t make your whole being vibrate, you would have probably laughed at the destiny.

"You are, so fucking, hot-," you whispered breathlessly, eyes barely able to stay open to drink in his image. "So you admit it. You think I'm sexy," you could see his smirk even in the red darkness of his room. "I wouldn't let you ram into me like this if I thought otherwise." "Oh really? And yet I was here thinking you were doing charity since 'no girl would want to make my dick wet'." You chuckled before the sounds could get interrupted by your high moans instead, the frustration that phrase gave to Doyoung translating into his hips thrusting even harder. "I take that back." "Are you trying to say that you want me to slow down? You can’t take this?" "Oh, no, I love how you're fucking me as if you hate me." "But I don’t actually hate you”, you wished to hear at least for a split second but no word came out of the boy's lips, his hips slowing down instead as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

It was as good as his fast thrusts, his strokes so fluid and deep it made you grunt every time he pressed into you. He was so good that it irritated you.

"You really like to do the opposite of what I want, huh?" "Yeah," his voice inside your ear made your skin get goosebumps. “I love your frustrated expression and mannerism.” "Ah, shit-" you dug your nails into his back as the bed started to creak. "A good girl like you swearing like this? Who taught you?" "It's your influence." "Am I turning you bad?" "Yeah. Every time you're around I want to do bad things and I have no idea what's going on." You didn't expect to be that honest but Doyoung's intimate presence was like a drug, making you feel so high that you were ready to get twisted by him in every way he wanted.

No. You desired it. You wanted Doyoung to play with you and for once you would not resist it at all. You would beg for more.

And when he actually took you there, in a place where your thoughts did not exist anymore, where only his touch grounded you, the hand that pushed you over the edge and the one bringing you back up, you did just that. You asked for more, shaking uncontrollably on his luscious bed and he did what you wanted. For once he granted every wish you had and even beyond that.

_____

Your desire to leave his room that night was not as strong as you anticipated.

Doyoung arms didn't want to let go and you didn't fight him at all.

Sighing, you got back to his chest and didn't comment on the way he tightened his hold on you. If this wasn’t the way people-that-hate-each-other-but-like-to-weirdly-fuck-for-some-reason behaved, it would be a concern for your conscious mind and not for your fucked up one.

His scent was inebriating and if you didn't know the way he could make you feel, you would have thought that it was the highest form of aphrodisiac.

And maybe it was actually making you feel high because under your lids you could have sworn that the room slowly changed colour.

You opened your sleepy eyes and stared at the wall behind Doyoung’s shoulder, blinking hard.

It was dark blue, almost black, with a myriad of little bright lights.

The candles went out and the room did get dark after Doyoung rolled over breathless, his cum dripping slowly on your thigh, but you were pretty sure there were no stars before.

And when you shifted to rest on your back you almost choked on your own spit.

You weren’t looking at the night sky.

No. You were inside the sky.

Purple, whites, yellows and pinks all melted together to form galaxies and cosmic dust.

No roof, no walls, no pavements, just the bed, Doyoung and you in the middle of everything.

Your fingers dug into the arm Doyoung had thrown across your chest and perhaps you made some type of sound because the boy opened his eyes to stare at your profile. “Do you like it?” he murmured. Your head snapped towards his face and his eyes reflected the infinite little lights as if he held two other universes inside of them. “How is this possible?” He smiled sheepishly. “Slytherin rooms. They change based on the owner’s mood.” You felt your mouth open on its own. “This is your doing?” Doyoung hummed and closed his eyes again, pulling you towards him to hold you like before. You let him place his chin on top of your head and breathed in his scent yet again.

“So the red room?” “I was horny.” You smiled. “And how do you feel now?” “A little less horny. If I’m not careful you’ll see a whole star engulf us soon.” “This is so unfair. We don’t have such cool rooms.” “Or maybe you do but being Ravenclaws you’re all thinking of boring, brown looking rooms.”

You rolled your eyes even if he couldn’t see you and gently, you placed a hand on his chest, close to your face and above his heart. You could feel the calm and peaceful beats in syntony with the night sky. To know that inside that boy’s mind could be such beauty made your heart not beat as calmly as his heart did.

You had no idea what you were doing, hugging so intimately with your sworn enemy, and maybe it was the romantic vibe that made you do it since there was no rational explanation to any of it, but you raised your face to meet his lips.

And you just kissed him. Slowly and softly, barely brushing them with yours.

Doyoung opened his eyes for a moment, as if surprised, but upon feeling you pressing yourself on his body he closed them again and pulled you on top of him.

The universe didn’t change, although, when you let your tongue inside his mouth, slowly, as if having all the time in the world at your feet, the stars flickered and got brighter.

“Are you trying to see a star up close? I can make it happen without you rubbing yourself on me,” he smiled on your lips. “What happens when you suddenly lose control?” Doyoung’s pupils trembled and the room started to shake. You knew it wasn’t real but you still jolted and looked around terrified. “Let’s find out.”

_____

"I, saw, you, leave, with, Kim, Doyoung, last night," Haechan chanted teasingly as he sat down with his breakfast tray.

You wanted to keep a poker face but your facial muscles weren't under your control so you smiled.

"Oh!! Look at her! Oh my God. So- wow. Okay. Okay," Haechan tried to compose himself. "Is he any good?" he leaned in lowering his voice.

You sighed and nodded. "So fucking good."

Haechan squealed and hit your shoulder before wrapping it with one arm and wobbling you around.

"Stop it!" you hissed amused. "Everything hurts." "EVERYTHING HURTS! So he's got a monster cock."

"Shut up!" you pressed your hand on his mouth scandalized as Doyoung made his way inside the cafeteria with his friends.

You breathed in slowly and just as slowly you exhaled, trying to relax. Haechan made an effort to appear calm as well. "Sup, Kim." You smiled.

The other boy looked your way as he walked behind your table. "Hey, Lee," then he turned to you. "Y/L/N."

And left.

Just like that.

He looked at you for one second and continued on his way to the Slytherin tables.

No smile.

No acknowledgement.

Cold just like before.

As if nothing had happened.

You stared at his back, feeling your limbs heavy like stone. Turning around slowly, you grabbed your fork and started to eat in silence. "Hey." Haechan lightly bumped your arm with his shoulder. "He's probably just feeling awkward." You munched slowly and took it as an excuse to keep quiet. "Hey, come on." "What?" Haechan sighed. "You can say that you're disappointed that he-" "I don't know what you're talking about."

_____

For the first time, instead of feeling rage inside your gut, you felt anxious.

Doyoung was in front of you, face almost hidden under his hair as he typed into his computer. He greeted you as he usually did before the, well, before you let him see the deepest parts of you, figuratively and physically. But after that single “hey” no other words came from his part.

It wouldn't have been that weird if only a few hours ago he didn't kiss your lips in heaven.

When you woke up that morning, the night sky wasn’t there anymore. At his place were clouds. White fluffy clouds in the middle of a pink sky.

It was breathtaking and you felt like flying.

And he did kiss you softly.

And now he acted as if you weren't even there.

Maybe Haechan was right. Maybe he was feeling awkward. It's not like he could suddenly act lovingly in front of the whole campus. You were still enemies after all. And maybe you were also right.

You've just fucked. It's not like you started to date. He had no obligations towards you.

Yet, when his fingers drew your spine and his sigh caressed your lips, it didn't seem just fucking to you.

Was Doyoung like that? Was that his personality? Was he doing that to all the girls he brought into his room? Making them cum multiple times and showing them his soft side? Was that a well-plotted plan? Was he trying to hurt you?

You were ready to let him do whatever he wanted to you the previous night, yet at that moment, under the bright sunlight of the study room, you felt sick. It was a weird feeling. It grabbed at your throat and travelled down to your heart making it difficult for you to breathe.

You trusted him with your feelings and you let him see your vulnerable side.

Did he laugh? Was he feeling triumphant now? Did he win a battle against you? He had you on his palm? Because, God, he did have you on his palm now and with only a twist of his wrist he could get you into his arms again.

And you would have let him.

You hated it. You fell so hard it hurt everywhere. You were dizzy and confused and you couldn't look at him anymore.

_____

It was easy to avoid Doyoung for the following days. It was almost too easy as if he was trying to avoid you too. So walking towards the library you jolted hearing his low voice inside one of the classrooms. You stopped in place and after a few seconds of thinking you peeped inside. Then you gulped and hid under the door window.

He was resting his hips on the professor's desk, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed on his chest. In front of him was standing one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen.

She was talking with a peaceful tone and Doyoung suddenly laughed. You got up and quickly walked away.

_____

"How the fuck would I know?" the girl asked.

Doyoung rolled his eyes. "Your dad designed them. You must know more than me."

"Listen. We're the only house with mood rooms because we're the only people who can control their emotions. It's not my fault you're a terrible Slytherin and your room has been pitch black for the past days."

Doyoung sighed in irritation. "What the fuck does that even mean though?"

"Usually mourning."

The boy shook his head. "No one died."

"Then it can be a general pain. Or confusion," the girl explained.

Doyoung raised his gaze on her. "What would I be so confused about?"

She shrugged. "You're the only one that can know. Chill out maybe and stop thinking when you're inside of it. I'll ask my dad how to turn it off and I'll let you know. Now leave me alone, I'm busy," she said and left the classroom.

_____

"Hey," Doyoung said. "That's my pencil."

You looked down at your fingers and furrowed your eyebrows.

"No. This is mine."

The boy sighed. "I can sense it's mine."

"I legit bought it yesterday. And what are you? A psychic? 'I can sense it's mine'."

"I'm a Slytherin. We're snakes. Everything I lick is mine. And I can sense that's mine."

Your mouth opened slightly and you waited for him to laugh but Doyoung remained serious.

"That has to be a joke."

"Okay, keep it. It just makes me feel giddy when things I own are used by other people." "Because you're selfish." "It's a real sensation. I know when something I licked is being used by somebody else," and he raised his eyes on you. You stared back and the weight of his words made your throat close.

I hope it doesn't work with people too, you wanted to ask, but the noise on your left interrupted you.

"Can I talk to you?" the same girl from a few days ago suddenly made her appearance near your desk. Doyoung looked at her surprised. "Yeah." "Bring me to your room," she ordered.

_____

You shouldn't have been there.

It was useless and it would only make you further lose your mind.

But your feet descended the Slytherin corridor, nose following the trail of the girl's perfume until arriving at Doyoung’s door.

You remained still for a moment and after a few seconds of indecisiveness you suddenly turned around going back.

That was too creepy. You had absolutely no reason to be there. If Doyoung wanted to fuck that girl, so be it.

But then you stopped again.

Fuck.

Just, just a little glance. Just a tiny little glance. Just the colour. Just to be sure.

You didn't turn around to actually see anything. With your back towards the door, you twisted your wrist, doing the most illegal thing one can do inside the campus - transparency spell. A tiny portion of the wall disappeared at your silent command and you could see the red hue spilling outside of it on the dark pavement at your feet.

It was enough and you barely saw the stairs when you got out of the basement.

_____

"You weren't lying when you said it's pitch black. It even absorbs magic light."

Doyoung sighed.

The girl presumably turned around because Doyoung heard her voice more clearly when she spoke again.

"Okay, so this is what we're gonna do. Sit down somewhere and relax."

The boy let himself fall on the carpet with a grunt.

"Close your eyes."

He obliged even if he could have let them open too for all it mattered.

"Now, think of someone of your choice."

Doyoung's mind automatically drifted towards you and the room besides being dark, felt suddenly very cold as well.

"No, okay, Doyoung, change the person." "She's the only one I can think about." The girl sighed. "Well, at least we know the reason for all of this. God, it's so fucking cold, try to not think about anything for a second!"

"It's hard, okay?"

"Okay, fuck. Think about her but imagine something else. Think of a good memory you have with her."

Doyoung sighed irritated and furrowed his eyebrows even more. "I don't think this is going to work."

But when he let his mind imagine your panting expression underneath him, a slight red hue started to create from the floor going up to the walls.

The girl exulted. "Yes! Don't stop. Continue thinking about that!"

Doyoung opened up one eye as the girl exulted again and he could finally see the furniture in his room.

It was a dark red, not the bright red he actually had his room painted in when he held you into his arms, but enough for him to not get a headache 24/7.

"Well it's not like I can think about--that, every time I need to be in my room, can I?" he got up.

The girl knew what red meant and she chuckled.

"Don't you have any other good memory with her besides fucking?"

The room got bright red.

The girl laughed even harder.

"Ah, shut up." "Hey, I helped you out." "Barely," he plopped on the bed and put his face into his palms.

It could have been considered a gesture coming from embarrassment if the lights didn't start to get dim again.

"God, you're really all over the place, huh?" she sat near him. "What happened? Is she your ex?”

Doyoung sighed and directed his gaze upon an indistinct point in front of him. Maybe he was tired, or maybe it was the dark room and the fact that Doyoung didn’t even remember the girl’s name, making her a safe stranger, but he whispered.

"I made a mistake. I thought she was into me so-- fuck, I went down on her."

The girl made a surprised sound but waited for the most important part.

“Well, she’s not into me, but I am.”

"You're so stupid!"

"Yeah okay, thanks."

"We're Slytherins! It's not like we don't give head because we're prude, it's to prevent this! You horny dumbass." "I thought she liked me! I had no idea she'd- fuck someone else right after!" Doyoung grunted frustrated and fell back on the bed, the room getting to the pitch-black from before.

The girl let the silence calm him down a bit before talking.

"I am sorry. I had things used by others but I don't know what it feels like with people."

"It's not necessarily painful but- knowing the reason, it's just-"

"Yeah. You just have to let her go so the bond is receded. Like with things, you know?"

"It's easy to let go of a thing that's yours. How can I manage to let go of her?"

The girl sighed and remained in silence.

_____

You had no idea how you managed to remain seated in front of Doyoung that morning.

His complexion was paler than usual and his eyes were very tired. As if he didn't sleep enough last night. Or at all.

You had to breathe in and out slowly to ease the pain inside your stomach.

"You look terrible."

Doyoung's dark irises under his low lids made your skin crawl when he looked up at you.

"Is someone keeping you too active to get enough sleep?" you asked again, trying hard to get back to the tone you both were used to before.

The boy tightened his lips in a mockery smile. "Yeah. As discussed, I have no problem keeping my dick wet."

"Well-," you frowned with a raised chin, your lips forming a pout for a moment before you forced them to keep the poker face, "-I started to see someone lately too."

He looked unbothered. "As in dating or hallucinations?"

You ignored his comment.

“We’ve already been on three dates,” you lied.

“And you’re telling me this because-?”

You shrugged. “Conversation.”

“I hate small talk.”

“Is there something you don’t hate?”

“Silence. And smart people, which given your latest test results, you’re not.”

You had no idea what it was.

You and Doyoung had always called each other names, insulted each other’s intelligence and the sorts, yet at that moment, maybe because of your failing tests, the alignment of stars or the fact that you were actually in love with him, you burst into tears.

It took Doyoung a few good seconds to realize that you were wailing in front of him.

“Hey?”

He crouched on the desk to be able to see your face from underneath your arms. You hid it even more.

“Y/N,” he lowered his voice. It was as soft and delicate as when he whispered your name under the sky.

You suddenly took your stuff and ran away from the study room.

_____

Doyoung was slowly but surely losing his mind.

One day, two days, three days and you were still nowhere to be seen.

His room has been different shades of grey, which was better than black but now the walls had water running on them and the floor was constantly wet.

Altogether, not a good time.

“Holy shit, are you that depressed?”

Doyoung raised his eyes from the book he was reading before rolling them so far up that Haechan thought they wouldn’t come back anymore.

“What do you want?”

The Gryffindor took a step inside the room with hands behind his back and took a lazy stroll to where Doyoung’s dresser was crying. “Your flowers are all dead. Throw them away.” “They keep appearing every time,” Doyoung started to read again, the little line between his eyebrows showing how hard he tried to understand whatever the pages were trying to say but failing.

“I’m here because it’s boring to not have you yell at Y/N in the study room as always,” Haechan spoke again nonchalantly, fingers rubbing against each other, as to get rid of the imaginary dust they collected from Doyoung’s furniture. Given the situation, the room probably made up piles of mud as well.

"Who's the guy?" Doyoung suddenly asked.

Haechan furrowed his eyebrows. "What guy?"

"The one she's fucking."

The other blinked at him surprised.

"You mean, Kim Doyoung?"

The Slytherin's eyes widened and Haechan saw how he looked with flushed cheeks for the first time in his life.

"Aw, come on. Of course, I know everything."

"If you know everything, then tell me who the fuck this guy she's been fucking beside me is!" Doyoung got up from the bed.

"There's no other guy. What are you talking about?"

"Fuck, I felt it how he touched her and it drives me crazy!" Haechan opened his mouth to talk but jolted, eyes staring at Doyoung’s arm extended to hit the wall behind his head expecting to see a dent in the hard brick from how much force he put into that.

"Is it you?" “Uhm? What the fuck?” "Answer me." "Okay, first of all, take a step back."

Doyoung leaned in even more and Haechan gulped.

"Okay! Okay, gosh. No. There's no guy fucking her as far as I know."

"Where is she?" "I don't know." "What kind of friend are you if you don't know it?"

Haechan crossed his arms on his chest. "Am I seriously getting scolded on friendship values by Kim Doyoung right now? You that made her cry in the common room? You that made her rest her weapons in front of you just to see you treat her like scum? After using her? We don’t have mood rooms but we have things like hearts and mouths which we use to, you know, ask other people how they feel-" "I don't have enough patience and you know that."

Haechan breathed in and out before finally opening his lips again. "She's in the dorms. Obviously. Where the fuck would she be-"

Doyoung turned around on his heels like a tornado and walked towards the towers.

"She doesn't want to talk to you!" Haechan told the other boy's back but he wasn't sure he heard him.

_____

She doesn't want to talk to you.

Fuck it.

Doyoung knew he was self-centred and he knew that your absence had something to with him but for once he really wanted to be wrong.

Used you? You really thought Doyoung used you? When you used him and then got somebody else to touch you like that?

Fuck, if Doyoung were in his room at that moment it would probably resemble a killing storm.

"Hey, you can't be here," some random guy stopped him as Doyoung stepped into the Gryffindor common room. "How did you even enter-"

"Shut the fuck up."

Doyoung looked around, eyeing all of the different doors and chose left, venturing down the corridor, for once - and cringingly so - listening to his heart.

Haechan was right. You didn’t have real mood rooms but he could physically feel the energy of each and one of them with his heart.

He knew it was your door before even getting close to it, the feeling coming from it making his blood boil in his veins just like he would feel when you were around.

With a twist of his wrist, he tried to open it but it didn't work.

"Are you seriously trying to barge into a girl's room like that, Kim?" a scandalous voice said behind the door.

"How did you know it was me?" Doyoung placed one palm on the wood.

"Only you could force open a door without even knocking," you replied. "And the spell is made for you specifically, so I know."

The boy rested his forehead on the door and closed his eyes. "You were waiting for me."

The silence on the other side made him sigh. "Open up. Let me talk to you."

It got even quieter than before. "I wasn't waiting for you. You had no reasons to come," you finally whispered.

Doyoung twisted his wrist and the door in front of himself vanished from his eyes. Apparently, you didn't anticipate he'd be able to use the transparency spell since you didn't even preoccupy yourself to block it and he could tell you didn't even sense it, so concentrated on your thoughts. From your perspective the door was still there and, previously leaning against it with your back, you rolled on it now and unknowingly imitated Doyoung's position, foreheads almost touching if not for the layer of old wood.

"What do I have to say?" he asked, looking at your face. He saw how you bit your lower lip at the sound of his voice and the genuine sadness in your face made him even angrier at the whole situation. "You don't have to say anything," you finally replied.

Doyoung's jaw muscles tensed.

"Please, please, open this goddamn door."

The intensity of his voice made you raise your head and your senses got sharp again, feeling the energy he put into using his spell.

With the twist of your wrist, the door flew open and you finally saw Doyoung's face.

"You used transparency," you suddenly looked furious. “You know you can’t do that inside the university.” "Fuck, I was," he stepped in. "What if I was naked?" "Nothing I haven't seen before."

You rolled your eyes. "You make me so frustrated."

"I am making you frustrated? Then what about me, huh?"

"What would you even be frustrated about if you don't even care about me? You tease me and you insult me and then you make love to me like a desperate man and then you go back to being your selfish, deprecable self. What is this? Why do you keep playing with me? Is it fun? You find it amusing to see me like this?"

Your words completely floored him.

"I can ask you the same thing. I can feel it inside my chest when someone else touches you and it drives me fucking insane. I made a mistake and I gave in thinking you had some feelings for me and that I wasn't just a fuck toy you could use one night and throw away."

Your mouth fell open.

He could feel it? He could feel you? So you did belong to him?

"This is crazy. You hid something like this from me! Now you have access to what's going on with my body without my consent!"

"I had no idea I was in love with you, okay? It has never happened to me before. I don't want to know either when someone else eats you out! I just- you’re here hiding in your room and crying as if you have feelings for me or something when you let someone else-" he stopped.

You looked at his reddening neck and closed eyes.

His breath was shaky and you realized how you've never actually seen him angry or upset before.

"No one has done anything to me, Doyoung. Unlike you, who fucked that Slytherin girl after showing me the fucking heaven. Did you do that to her as well? Sweet talk? For what? Is this your hobby? Making girls fall in love with you?"

The boy shook his head in confusion."What are you talking about? There's no Slytherin girl."

"The one that had the urgency to see your room?"

He pinched the base of his nose with a grunt of realization. "She helped me to figure out why my room was pitch-black and why it's currently grey with wet fucking walls."

"Oh yeah? Because to me, it looked very much red."

"You've been spying on me?"

You huffed and sat down on the bed like a child when they're found guilty but they're too proud to admit it. "You used transparency just 5 minutes ago too,” you justified yourself as if you were equal now.

"And did you see me fuck that girl?"

"I didn't want to actually look inside like a creep! But you were pretty much horny. The corridor got all red."

"I was thinking about you! And now I’m also thinking about you and I’ve been thinking about you all of these days and months and probably all of these fucking years since I first met you.”

Your brain felt like mush.

"Then you knew? You treated me like that because you liked me? Only children tease the person they like."

"I didn’t know. I had no fucking idea before. And apparently, I am a fool for not having realized before and fuck, perhaps I’m a child as well then. I’m insecure. Because I wanted you to think about me too. And perhaps you don’t even remember but I’ve tried to be nice to you before and it didn’t work. But you started to give me attention when I made you mad. It was easy and playful and I saw how you often smiled when I turned my back to you and- fuck, I got hopeful. That you’d start to feel the same.”

“I do feel the same, for fuck’s sake! I am in love with you.”

Doyoung swallowed dryly. “Then why-”

“It was me.”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows.

“That morning after I left your room I took a shower, and-,” you looked around as if trying to find the courage to say what you had to say, “- I was thinking about you, so-”

Doyoung understood before you could finish the phrase and you saw his face fall.

“Wait, is it possible? Even if you do it?”

You scoffed incredulously. “You’re the Slytherin here. Until a few days ago I didn’t even know you had magical spit making you feel whatever I did to my own pussy!”

Doyoung closed his eyes and took in a deep breath as if he needed a moment.

“But I researched it when you told me about the pencil. It has to do with some weird-ass Slytherin shit where couples own each other’s bodies. Most people find it hot to know when the partner is-” you cleared your voice as it got suddenly tiny from talking about that shameful topic.

“So no, I did not let anyone touch me. If you were smart enough you would have noticed that it didn’t happen anymore after you treated me like shit.”

The boy looked as if his soul left his body.

The silence engulfed the whole room and you avoided each other’s eyes.

But then it got disrupted by his movements. With slow steps, he walked the space from the middle of the room to the feet of the bed where you were sat down.

With weak limbs, he let himself down on his knees in front of you and slowly he let his face fall into your lap.

Your breath fell short. With trembling hands, you caressed his nape, lightly as if afraid to touch him, then his hair, patting it gently.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool this whole time. Like, I am so stupid.” His voice was muffled by your clothes and his arms wrapped your waist even more while saying it.

“You’re the smartest person I know. But you could’ve just asked instead of assuming.”

He shook his head. “Yeah. Hey Y/N, so I can feel inside my gut that you orgasmed hard just now. Who did it? I thought you liked me.”

He raised his head again, his hair messy on the forehead, eyes lit up by the sun coming from your big windows and violent red cheeks. He looked young and vulnerable and suddenly the whole situation seemed so ridiculous that you laughed.

“I am sorry,” you chuckled and cupped his face. “You’re right. It was a weird situation. We should work on communication. And you should work on not being so insecure.” “You also assumed I fucked a girl just because I was talking to her.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. We both have to work on that, alright?”

He sighed relieved seeing you smile.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about that whole thing before. But I swear, I had no idea my feelings for you were that deep.” “Does it not work with mere crushes?” He shook his head.

"Well, do you know what I want now? For you to obtain my forgiveness?" you asked. "Me to kiss you." You flicked his head. "You will never drop that attitude of yours, will you?" He smiled even more. "I love to see you like this."

“I want something else,” you explained. Doyoung turned his head to the side. “Me eating you out?”

“Oh my God! No!” you tried to get away from his hold but he pushed you back on the bed and crawled beside you. “But that pussy is mine-” “Shut up!! Don’t say that ever again! You still need to apologize some more for that. Now I can’t even masturbate.” “You don’t need to masturbate if you have me.” “I fucking hate you so much.” “I love you too. So what was the thing that you wanted?”

“It’s just-- it’s unfair. So I-- also want to know.” “You want to own my cock?” he chuckled in the crook of your neck. “Why do you really have to use such words?!”

“You can do it. You just need to go down on me too.” “Even if I’m not a slytherin?” “If you’re in love with your slytherin partner, you don’t need to be one to be tied to them like that.” “Pants off then. Now.” _____

Haechan walked through Doyoung’s room with a chuckle, trying hard to avoid all the flowers that suddenly started to grow tall until reaching the ceiling.

With the corner of his eyes he also noticed the way all of them started to turn red and with a disgusted face, he moved faster, exiting it and closing the door behind him.

#doyoung #doyoung smut #doyoung fanfiction #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung fluff #doyoung angs #doyoung au #nct #nct smut #nct fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct angst #doyoung angst #nct fluff #nct fantasy au

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unloved-cadillac · 3 years

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hey!!! hope u've had a great day 💖 can I ask for a smut/nsfw of levi with a stern, cold, and equally terrifying co-captain (basically a girl version of levi HAHA) with a very deep monotone voice that can sometimes be mistaken as a man, which makes levi laugh to himself because when the doors are closed, shes very clingy and affectionate (sub who likes choking, edging, nipple sucking and daddy kink) with levi and one time they fucked, her very-- uh how do I say this,,, very "feminine" moans were overheard by the squad. they all thought levi was having sex with a prostitute but once they're ~ done ~ they went out to drink tea and they were all suprised to see the other captain dressed with captain levi's shirt with tons of hickeys on her neck? LOL sorry if it was too specific I just thought it would be funny. thank you!!

C/n: oh this a HELLA spicy request👀 and is this me??? Because it sounds like me. Anywho, thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

Warnings: look at the request.

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Behind Closed Doors.(Levi x Reader NSFW Oneshot)

Levi was known as the worst Captain. Not because he was a bad person, because he was ruthless. He never gave anyone an easy way out nor did he give a fuck. Nobody thought that they would find someone like him.

Until you came along.

You were the new Captain for the squad that was second to Levi’s. Nobody got it. You looked so sweet but when you spoke it was like listening to a female Levi. And it terrified them.

Erwin laughed at how everyone compared you to Levi. Now he had two tea-loving, blunt, stoic Captains to attend to. Hange loveddd you. You were weirded out by her at first, but grew to love the four-eyes weirdo. Levi found it enthralling. You were so strong and so independent and he liked that.

One day on the training grounds, a male cadet was verbally harassing a female one and you saw this and groaned. Cadet Mason had been trying to get the poor girl for months but it was when he grabbed her arm did you step in.

“Oi! Mason! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Your deep, monotone voice yelled out and you saw Mason physically stiffen. “C-Captain Levi. I don’t know what-” he turns and sees you. He straightens up and salutes. “CAPTAIN Y/N! I-I’m sorry I didn't know it was you.” “Tch. Forget that. Leave this girl alone. Actually, the stables need cleaning. The horses shat everywhere so clean it all up. I don’t care how long it takes. After that, I want you to write an apology to this young lady and apologize to her. Maybe then you’ll learn some manners. Now GO!” Your voice roared through the base and the boy ran with his tail between his legs. You made the girl take a day off and started to walk to the Mess Hall when you saw Levi. “Mason being an idiot again?” He asks and you scoff. “When isn't he?” You retort and he chuckles. He looks at you and you share a heart full glance with each other. “Have some tea with me. My office.” He says and you smile and nod. “Sure.”

And it was then that sparked a beautiful, loving relationship between the two of you. Nothing really changed in the first few weeks but he did see how you acted in private. Clingy and loving. A complete 180 from your usual demeanor and he loved it. Something nobody else saw except for him.

Another thing nobody else saw or knew about was how subby you were. He was surprised the first time you two fucked and how kinky you were. You made him have a kink he didn’t even know he would enjoy so much.

After a particularly hard and long mission, Levi came back to his office to see you there. You saw him and leaped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his torso. “Thank god you’re okay.” You whisper into his shoulder and he hugs you tighter. “I’m fine.” He responds. You turn your head and begin to litter his neck with soft kisses. “I’ve missed you, daddy.” You seductively say and push your hips into his, making him groan. “Oh really? Well I’ve missed you too, princess.” You moan at his pet name and he captures your lips in his. Levi turns you around and pins you against the wall as he moves his lips to your neck. He bites and nips everywhere, finding all of your sweet spots with ease.

“Daddy~ I need you.” You moan out and he bites your earlobe. “I know, my baby. I need you too.” He says and walks the both of you to his room and throws you on his bed and kisses you again. You both separate for a quick second to shred off your clothing before you both dove into each other again. You rub his clothed cock making him groan. “Don’t be such a brat, Y/n. I won’t be able to hold back.” He sighs into your neck. You kiss his cheek and say, “Don’t.”

That one word made him snap. He quickly took off his underwear and shoved his fingers into your soaking cunt. “So fucking wet. Coating my fingers already. Look at you.” Levi fingers you until he felt you clench around him and your body tensed. He quickly pulled out, making you groan. Levi hovers over you and catches your nipple and sucks harshly on it. “Ahh~ Daddy. Just like that.” You moan out and his tongue swipe your nipple and he moves to your other one. He pinches and bites your nipples earning delicious moans from you. You become a bit louder when he bite a bit harder. He pulled away with drool all over his mouth and kissed you harshly. “Tell me what you want, princess. Tell me how badly you want it.” He says as he trails kisses along your neck. “I want your cock in me, daddy. Fill me up with your fat cock and make me come. Please~” you whine out and he hums in approval. “Then take it.”

Without warning, Levi shoves into you making you yell out. He takes both of your hands and holds it above your head while slamming into you. The headboard hit the wall and your wails of pleasure filled the room. “Ah! D-Daddy! There! Right there! Harder!” You moan and he leans up and let’s go of your hands and places his hands on your hips, all while still thrusting into you. “So tight. All for me? Of course it’s for me.” Levi self praises and you take his right hand and trail it up your body to your neck. He smiles and wraps his long digits around your neck, squeezing gently. The angle made him hit every inch of you and you couldn’t do anything but scream out as you started to get to your release.

Outside of the office, Jean and Connie stood as they listened. “Holy fuck, Jean. Captain Levi must be fucking her really good if he’s making her scream that much.” Connie remarks. “Who is she? A soldier?” Jean asks Connie as he presses his ear to the door to hear better. “Nah. I haven’t heard anyone with that voice. Maybe he hired a prostitute! It would make sense since the mission was a success and he wanted to celebrate.” Connie explains and Jean nods in agreement. “Who would’ve thought? Well let’s go. I don’t want to seem like a creep.” He says and drags Connie to the Mess Hall to leave their Captain to his intimate time.

After you both finished for the second time, Levi collapsed next to you as you both caught your breaths. Skin was coated with sweat and the room was filled with the sounds of heaving pants. “Holy...shit.” Levi breathes out as you chuckle and lay on his chest. “I know. That was amazing.” You say and he plants a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?” His consideration made your heart soft. You lean up and kiss him. You move his hair out of his face and shake your head. “You were perfect.” You whisper and he hugs you. “Good.” Was all he said before it was silent again. “Want to go have some tea?” You ask and he chuckles. “Can you even walk?” You playfully slap his chest at his question. “But yeah. Let’s go.” Levi says and you both wake up. You take Levi’s shirt and your shorts and put it on. You left four top buttons undone and Levi puts on his black long sleeved shirt with his matching trousers. “Ready?” He asks and you nod. You both walk out his room and make your way to the Mess Hall. You sat as you waited for Levi to make the tea since there was no one else around. It was late so you didn’t expect anyone to be awake. Well, there was.

“Oh there’s Captain Y/n.” Armin says to Jean as they pass the hall. Jean pulls Armin behind a wall and looks at her. She seemed tired as hell and her hair was all messed up. She propped her head on her hand and sighed. Jean eyed her. “Something’s wrong.” He whispers to Armin and Armin looks back at her. “Why?” As Jean was about to answer, Captain Levi comes to her with two tea cups and sets one by her. He sits next to her and she sips her tea. When she does, Jean sees her neck covered in hickeys as well as Captain Levi’s. Jean gasps and pulls Armin away from there. “Jean! Hey!” Armin whisper shouts and Jean let’s go of Armins shirt. “Guys! Get in here before you get caught!” Connie calls them back to bed and they enter with a shocked Jean. “Connie. You know that woman’s voice we heard earlier from Captain Levi’s room?” Jean asks him and Connie nods. “A woman’s voice? Captain Levi? What are you talking about?” Reiner asks and Jean looks up at Connie. “It was Captain Y/n.” He says and holds his head. Connie’s eyes widen and then starts laughing. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jean. Captain Y/n’s voice doesn’t sound like that!” Connie remarks. “But it was her!” Jean suddenly says. “Armin and I just saw the two of them having tea together in the Hall. And her neck was covered in hickeys as well as his!” Jean continues and Connie whistles. “Whoa. Captain Levi and Captain Y/n. Goddamn.” Connie didn’t even seem the least bit concerned that it was hers. The boys continued to talk about it while Jean covered his face as he sat on the bed.

The worst part was that the next day, he had training with Captain Y/n. How the hell was he going to concentrate?

———————————————————————

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

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jay-and-dean · 3 years

Text

Stolen Crown Chapter 1 : Under the hood

By @roonyxx and @jay-and-dean

Pairings : Dean x reader ? Kight!Dean x reader ?

Summary : What happens when she is sent in a world that isn’t hers, but with very familiar faces ?

This, as much as it looks like it, is not ‘technically’ an AU, because your Dean, our Dean, exists too...

Serie Warnings : Smut (please be 18+), Fluff, Angst, Swearing. Mention of physical pain. Each Chapter will have detailled warnings.

Chapter warnings : Swearing for now.

Chapter Wordcound : 3230

Note : This is a collaboration beetween both of us. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like for Firefly.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

Text divider by the awesome @talesmaniac89

Want to read more:

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

Whistling.

Only a shrill whistling in her ears, and her heart pounding hard in her temples…

She holds her head and tries to get up, but the ground seems unsure of where it is supposed to be.

“Dean ?” she tries with a weak voice but, even with the high-pitched sound fading quickly, she can’t hear any answer. “Dean !”

She opens her eyes and they widen right away.

The seedy warehouse is gone, the smell of gasoline and the night are too… But above all, he is gone. Dean is nowhere to be seen.

Instead : A sunny beautiful forest. Shiny rays of lights come through the radiant, high trees and birds are signing. So many birds.

“Shit” she grunts, looking around. “DEAN ! SAMMY !”

But her voice echoes and dies in the woods, only making a few rodents run through the bushes, themselves moving some butterflies and bees. Nothing else.

Where was she sent ? Is it witchcraft or some stupid God ? She had told them that this case seemed more complicated than what they said ! And here she is, probably miles from home.

“Please, tell me I’m still in the United states” she whimpers, taking her phone from her jeans shorts pocket. “No come on ! No signal now ?”

After pacing around to try and find any sign of signal, she gives up and puts the useless phone back in her pocket, regretting her morning choice to wear only a t-shirt and shorts, because if she has to walk miles to find a road, the night might be here before she finds her friends again, and nights are colder out there.

“DEAN ! DEAN !” she tries again.

But he is obviously not with her.

What if he had been sent far too ? What if he was in an indian market now ? Or in a boat on the australian seas ?

“Sammy you have to find us” she mutters, looking around to gather clues.

This forest is not tropical or northern, it’s a temperate one, and it’s obviously still early summer…

Suddenly, hooves disturb the forest’s calm in the distance, rapidly approaching her. The metal clattering with every step the big animal -probably a horse- takes, says it’s not alone…

She quickly moves in the bushes and stills behind a large tree to hide herself from whoever is coming.

“Your highness ?” a deep, oddly familiar, voice calls.

Her back flat against the tree, she turns her head a little to be able to see beyond the thick bark, holding her breath and reaching for the knife in her boot.

A beautiful, massive shiny black horse is nervously stepping on the ground while the owner of the mare pats it on the neck.

“Easy girl” the man says.

She frowns, keeping the dagger in her hand, ‘that voice… I know it.’ When she dares to look between the leaves, her eyes widen.

“Dean?” she says with a confused smile, putting the knife back in her boot, as she steps from out of the bushes.

“My Queen !” he throws his leg over the majestic black horse and steps off, right away going down on one knee in front of her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I have been looking for you, my Queen” he says towards the ground, not looking up to her once.

“Queen ?” she huffs, still a little dizzy. “Where the Hell are we, Dean ? And what the fuck are you wearing, is that... a freaking armor?” she asks, pointing at his weird clothes.

Dean finally tilts his head upwards. And when he sees her, his eyes nearly fall out of his head, his mouth is open but no words leave his lips. The more he stares at her like she was naked, the more she starts to feel a little self conscious.

His eyes slowly travel up her bare legs, a confused expression on his face, when she bends a little to make eye contact with him he quickly adverts his gaze.

“Your Majesty, what happened to your robes ? Are you harmed ?” he asks, obviously worried.

“Cut the crap, Dean, what’s happening ? Where are we ?” she asks, annoyed.

“We are in the…” he looks around a little, apparently wondering what to answer. “In the woods… Not far from the Castle, my Queen” he says.

She stares at him, mouth agape, a deep feeling of confusion replacing the annoyance totally. Her tone changes to something colder, more distant.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘queen’ ?” she asks. “And what’s up with the stupid clothes ?”

He dares looking up at her again, a sorry frown on his face.

“My apologies, your Highness. I do not understand… Is there something wrong with my apparel ?” he stands up, his eyes searching her face. “Did you hit your head or have you fallen maybe ? You disappeared, my Queen. I have been so worried” he turns to his horse to retrieve a big grey fur cloak. “What happened to your gown, did someone attack you ?”

His head low, he comes closer to carefully drape the very heavy cape around her shoulders.

“I obviously failed at my duty” his eyes are dark and she clearly recognizes that crushing guilt on his features

She touches the floor length fur coat he put around her with a frown. It’s pleasantly warm outside, there is no need for this...

Everything he does is weird, and why does he look so different ? Was he hit by a spell of some weird stuff like that time he was losing his memory ?

Unless…

She takes in his appearance. He looks exactly like him but he has more scruff, and his hair is a little longer, his clothes are very strange too.

The closer she looks, through the fading cloud in her mind, the more this costume he is wearing really doesn’t look like one. All the layers of leather and metal make him look like he was ready for war, and his shoulders are even more broad under the armor he is wearing.

Everything about him seems heavy and powerful : Between the metal on his chest, the big belt holding several weapons, including the scabbard of that seems to hold a very authentic sword, the real huge grey fur around his shoulder, like he had killed a wolf…

She shivers at how impressive he looks, at how she realizes she doesn’t know anything about him..

“Shit…” she mutters realizing this is not her Dean at all.

This is not the United states of America, and this is probably not even her world… But if the Dean from around here is willing to protect her, that might be her best chance of survival.

She clears her throat, nodding to encourage herself to play along.

“No... I’m…” she suddenly has no idea how to use her voice. “I’m okay and I am your queen, because you are my…?” she leaves the sentence open, hoping he’ll answer it.

“Your knight” he says, uncertain.

Knight, right… She nods and looks around once more.

If this is some kind of fucked up middle age alternate universe, there is a big chance that the forest is going for miles and miles, and an even bigger chance that she starves to death before Sammy finds a way to bring her back to the Instagram century. And dressed like that, she might have to fear more than wolves…

She stares at him for a minute and he seems to be just waiting for orders, his green eyes on the floor.

“Kneel” she says with a corner smile and he just does, with no question, comment or delay.

Dean Winchester obeying her to the letter… If that is not a good side of this whole crap !

“You can get up” she chuckles, letting him stand on his feet again.

But her amusement quickly fades.

Royalty is not really the easiest undercover, and the discretion will be impossible. She wants to ask for help but, even if her whole body and soul tell her she can trust Dean -for it is still Dean-, her eyes travel the thick leather covering his forearms and she remembers she doesn’t know him.

So maybe she better stay silent for now, and follow his lead until she decides if he is an ally.

“Your Majesty” he speaks, with a deference she never heard from him. “If the news of your disparition comes to the Council, there undoubtedly will be trouble. We should head back now. Please.”

“Y-yes” she nods, a lump growing in her throat.

Council ? Trouble ? Castle ? How is she supposed to deal with all that ? People close to the queen will know she isn’t her in a minute…

The knight offers his hand, and she follows, frowning when he joins his wrists to help her get on the horse.

“This is not the best comfort for travel, your Majesty, for that I am sorry” he apologizes again.

“It’s okay Dean” at her words, he frowns again, but she puts her feet on his wrists and jumps on the tall horse, quickly understanding, by the look on his face, that she is not supposed to ride “like a man”.

Her eyes can’t decide where to look, and her hands can’t decide where to hold him.

Gripping his belt tight in this uncomfortable position, she takes in the unbelievable landscapes before her : Untouched forests and large lakes, small villages down in the valley, with all those wood houses that remember her of Braveheart.

All she can think of is when she is going to tell the boys about everything she saw… If she ever goes back to them.

“Put on your hood, my Queen” the knight asks, so she does.

Her unsure hands grasp the heavy hood of the animal fur around her and she hides her face in the huge hood. He probably needs her to not be recognized.

“What animal is it ?” she asks, touching the hair with a mix of curiosity and disgust.

“Animal, your Majesty ?”

“The hood ?” she asks, quickly grasping his belt again when the horse half jumps above a root.

“My coat is made of a bear” he answers.

“Poor animal…”

He lets a silence and clears his throat slightly.

“I had never thought of it that way, my Queen. Your empathy for the creatures of this world is godly.”

But she stopped listening.

Her breath stuck in her lungs, she discovers the huge, beautiful castle coming in her sight.

A gigantic wall surrounds a little city, itself surrounding a huge, elegant castle. The light stone walls seem to be touching the clouds from here, and a vibrant living noise comes from it.

“Wow” she murmurs, looking up the thin sharp towers surrounded by birds.

“My breath gets cut short each time I see your home in sight too, your Highness” he says with a soft voice.

Inside the walls of the city, everything is different.

People are busy, all dressed like they came from a movie, carrying vegetables and raw pieces of meat, sheeps and baskets of fabric… Each and everyone turning their head at the sound of the huge horse’s steps on the stone pavements.

“Sir Winchester !” a kid exclaims.

She keeps her hood low, suddenly very aware of the trouble that could come from the crowd recognizing their queen.

The knight version of Dean stays unfazed, guiding them to the stables where several horsemen are waiting for him.

He gets off of the horse, helping her and closing his coat neatly on her.

“Keep your head down” he murmurs next to the hood and she just nods, determined to let him guide her. “You” he says louder to one of the men here. “Go tell the guards that the wolf hunt is done. My men can gather again peacefully, nothing is to fear.”

She can’t help but very quickly look up at the man giving orders next to her, his remarkable charisma making her feel so small.

She always looked up at Dean with an infinite admiration, but at least, she knows him… This stranger is different.

“Allow me to touch you” he says under his breath and she just nods again while he wraps his strong arm around her.

Under the hood, she can’t see everything precisely, but the little she can distinguish of the inside of the castle he is guiding her in is enough to amaze her.

Huge corridors and busy servants, carpets that seem to come from a museum, gold and flowers decoration the thick stone walls.

“Sir” a guard comes in their way, bending before Dean in respect. “Your men have been called back. The news never spread outside of the Queen’s guard.”

“Thank you” the knight answers.

“Glory be to the Queen” the guard bows again.

“To the Queen” Dean answers.

The knight guides her further into the castle and up an infinite number of stairs, a serious look on his face. With every step up, the coat on her shoulders feels heavier and heavier, and her apprehension does too.

Once they reach the top, he walks to the left, his heavy boots echoing in the spacious corridor. Still holding her, his grip both reassuring and oppressing, he stops in front of a big wooden door that she may be supposed to recognize.

She looks up at the door a little, still not completely daring to stop hiding under the big hood. He opens the door and stands with his back against the wall, his eyes straight ahead.

She hesitates, waiting for him, but when he doesn’t move, she carefully steps inside, not sure what she will meet on the other side of the massive oak door.

Before her, a large room with thick wooden furniture and rich fabric. In the middle, a queen size bed with wooden bed posts that are near the stone ceiling with wolves carved in each of them. Hanging from the posts, a dark red velvet-like canopy that matches the heavy curtains. A big antique closet stands to the left side of the room.

Taking a cautious step, she looks right. Behind a great arch is another room that holds a big wooden tub covered in a sand-white sheet.

Despite the cold stone everywhere, the many carpets with many different colorful illustrations, the curtains, and candles everywhere makes the room somehow warm.

She stands in the middle of what she guesses is the queen’s room, unsure of what to do now. Looking back to the door, she sees Dean’s elbow from where he is still standing against the wall, straight and still.

“Dean, come inside please” she states, using the most authoritative voice she has.

A queen has to be, right ?

“Yes, your Majesty.”

The knight steps inside immediately, his hands behind his back, his gaze fixated in front of him.

“What are... my plans for today ?” she asks him, trying to figure out what to do, to convince them, a whole Castle and Kingdom, that she is the damn queen.

“The Council requested a parlay with you when the sun is at its highest, and after you have your usual walk in the garden before you talk to the People. I think, Majesty.”

“Right, the Council” she says unsure, wondering what the council can be. “Take me to them.”

She holds her chin high, trying desperately to look like the Hollywood idea she has of how royals act.

His gaze finally finds hers, a small frown is on his face, an expression of confusion growing on his hard but still so beautiful features.

“Do you not wish to be dressed first, my Queen?”

“Oh… yes, I-I do wish that” she nods.

She walks towards the closet and opens it, checking his face in the corner of her eye to try and find clues of what she is supposed to do, but all she can see there is worry for her, well hidden on his bodyguard face.

Inside the huge closet, put in color order, are dresses, all of them big and complicated… And on some shelves, smaller white dresses, that may be for inside or summer. She takes them out.

“This will work” she states to herself as she turns around but stops when she hears Dean gasp.

When she looks up he’s stepping towards the door quickly.

“No wait !” she calls out for him and he stops right in his tracks. “Dean...”

He turns towards her, his gaze on the floor, jaw clenched.

She doesn’t want him to leave. She is, in fact; terrified of being without him. Although he is a stranger, his face is the only thing she knows in this weird place she knows nothing about.

What will they do once they find out their queen disappeared ? Is there a king she has to sleep with ? Do they torture people ? Kill ?

She just needs him close.

“I don’t know what to wear” she admits.

Or even how to wear it, she thinks to herself.

“Any gown makes you look divine, my Queen” he says in a husky voice, still watching the floor intensely.

If the circumstances were different her knees would wobble at what he just said… But he is not Dean, and maybe he just says that to not get his throat slit.

“Okay, I will put on this gown” she says as she lifts the small white dress that she is holding, a questioning look on her face.

The knight swallows hard and seems agitated. For a second, she wonders why he is acting so weird.

“What is it ?” she asks him. “Tell me.”

“Pardon me, your Highness, but that is not a gown” he clears his throat and stands up straighter. “That is your undergarment.”

“Undergarment ?” she looks at the little dress, holding it in front of her by the straps.

Her lips open in an ‘o’ when she understands this is her underwear. She has been flashing him her royal underwear this whole time, of course he was acting weird !

In a quick motion, she hides it behind her back and mutters an apology.

“Yes, my undergarment, of course. I-I will get dressed now” she walks towards her closet to retrieve a big gown in a hum of hesitation.

“Let me just call the maids, your Majesty” he says low.

“Yes ! Oh and Dean ?” she starts, waiting for his gaze to meet hers before she speaks again. “Thank you” she kindly smiles.

The knight nods, turns slowly and steps towards the bedroom door with a determined gait, closing and locking it by sliding the metal rod in the slot.

She frowns, seeing him lock himself with her. His back still on her, he clears his throat before he talks.

“My Queen...” he starts.

With that hunter speed her Dean also has, he suddenly unsheaths his sword from his scabbard and holds its sharp end under her chin without touching her

“Would never have said something like that” he finishes his sentence. “Or call me Dean…”

She searches his face, slowly lifting her hands up in surrender.

“That is because I am not your queen.”

__________

Chapter 2 on @roonyxx‘s blog

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Tags : @parinarain @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @stormchasingchick32-deactivated @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @lyss-dw79 @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs @deanwanddamons @jawritter @peridottea91 @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart @vicmc624 @teresa-67 @jessie-michael @doctor-hp-mcu @hawkerz12 @mariaenchanted @hobby27 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @thoughts-and-funnies @suramyaa @yasreadsfics @brilovesdeanwinchester

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Text

Nosy Neighbors

Hey folks! This is a continuation of the Coops social media series, kind of like the boyfriend tag and the tiktoks. Let me know what you think and if you like these fics! Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to @lumosinlove, as always. Some parts inspired by the SW discord!

“Bonjour, everyone, and welcome back to the Gryffindor Lions Instagram! I’m Sirius Black and I’m here with my fiancé, Remus Lupin, to answer some questions you are sending in while we’re live.” Sirius set his phone up so both he and Remus could see it. “Alright, first question: what are our favorite colors?”

“Green,” Remus said, leaning over Sirius’ arm to see. “Specifically dark green, kinda moss tones?”

Sirius hummed. “I really should say red or gold, but I like blue a lot.”

“Don’t tell Coach,” Remus said to the camera. “Question—wow, these are coming in fast—question two: who kissed who first?”

“You did?”

“I think so. That’s right, I did, because we had the whole conversation beforehand and I just kind of went ‘fuck it’ and smooched you.”

“Smooch.”

“Shush, read another question.” Remus kissed him on the cheek as he looked back to his phone.

“Who is more romantic?”

“You,” Remus said without hesitation. “You’re so sappy.”

“That’s different than being romantic.”

“Either way, you can do it forever.” Remus scrolled through a couple more before pausing and bursting out laughing.

Sirius’ whole face lit up and he craned his neck to see. “Which one is it?”

“It’s not even a question, I just love it.” Remus took a second to collect himself. “All it says is ‘these bitches smitten’, and you know what? Yeah.”

Sirius laughed loudly, leaning against the back of the couch for a moment. “Merde, I’m using that forever. Thank you, whoever sent that in. Okay, what do we have next…who said ‘I love you’ first? Me!” He smiled broadly, looking very proud of himself. “I did.”

Remus peered down at the phone. “People think it’s weird seeing you actually answer questions for once.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. Apparently most of them didn’t know you could actually smile—that’s sad.” Remus looked back up and stuck his lower lip out. “Everyone who didn’t know that, I feel very bad for you. Sirius Black’s smile is a national treasure.”

“That’s an awfully smitten thing to say.”

“Turns out I’m a smitten bitch, did you know that?” Remus wrapped an arm around his waist and tapped the phone screen. “On the ice, both of you are pretty aggressive—aw, that’s such a nice way of putting it—and I was wondering if that ever translates into when you argue. Oooh, we’re getting personal now.”

Sirius cocked his head to the side. “I’m going to say not really? First of all, we don’t fight that much, and second of all, we both make an effort to leave any dickishness on the ice.”

“Dickishness is a highly scientific word, of course,” Remus teased. “No, in all honesty, hockey is the only place either of us get, like, aggressive aggressive.”

“Hey, this one is specifically for you,” Sirius said, leaning down to see it better. “Oh, I like this one. To Remus, how do you survive being around that accent all day? If it were me, I would spontaneously combust for sure. How do you survive, mon loup?”

Remus groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t. It’s so frustrating.”

Sirius sent the camera a smug smile. “C’est bien. Hmm, this next person wants to roast us both. Who is messier?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“You just don’t want to admit it’s you.” Sirius raised his eyebrows when Remus scoffed. “You leave your socks everywhere.”

“At least I own more than one pair without holes!”

“That’s not part of the question. I win, you lose, your turn.” Sirius handed him the phone and Remus stuck his tongue out at him.

“Someone named Laila wants to know if we ever get competitive at home or if that’s another thing we leave at the rink.” Remus propped his chin on his hand. “I don’t know, baby, do we get competitive?”

Sirius struggled to hold back his grin. “I’m just going to ask the general public a question now: what do you think happens when you put two professional athletes in a house together?”

“Especially when one of them is the captain.”

“The short answer is yes, we do. I can think of three separate occasions in the last week where we competed over something completely pointless.” Sirius thought for a moment. “Wait, no, there’s four. We should move on before this spirals. D’accord, dinonuggets asked why our dog’s name is Hattie. Good question!” He whistled and Hattie wandered in a few seconds later to sit between them on the couch. “Her name is Hattie because she is our lucky third for a hat trick.”

“Woah, people really like that.” Remus poked the screen as hearts exploded across it. “She is the best girl. Babycakes, sweet girl.” Hattie rolled onto her back and put her head in his lap. Remus petted her absentmindly as he read through the comments, then swung around to face Sirius with a mischievous smile. “What’s the best and worst part about dating someone from Wisconsin?”

“The slang for both,” Sirius answered immediately. “Jeez is so cute, but I do not understand the obsession with ‘hold your horses’ at all.”

Remus shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, you have no culture. Alright, you’re up.”

“Oh!” Sirius slapped at Remus’ leg in excitement and Hattie made a grumpy noise. “Un bébé!”

“A baby?”

“This person is just starting to question their identity and wants to know what labels we use.”

Remus lit up. “Baby gay! Hello! Oh, this is awesome. To answer your question, I used to identify as bisexual but after college I started identifying as gay because I felt like it fit me better.”

“As everyone knows, I was closeted until about eight months ago, but I’ve known I’m gay since I was…oh, maybe 13? 14?” Sirius’ face turned solemn for a moment. “Please remember that your labels can change and you’re still valid. Stay proud.”

“We’re starting to run out of time here, so we’re going to do a few rapid-fire questions. First one: What’s your favorite thing about your partner?”

“Your heart,” Sirius said, turning to look at Remus with a soft expression. “You’re so kind to everyone and you have so much love to go around.”

Remus had one hand over his mouth. “That’s so sweet. I feel so bad now. Uh, my favorite thing about you is how adventurous you are, since I’m an introvert and we balance really well.”

“Why did you feel bad?” Remus didn’t answer. “Oh my god, you were thinking of something else. What was it?”

“Doesn’t matter. Next question—”

Sirius grabbed the phone out of his hand. “Oh, no, no, tell me. Was it my ass?” The mild flush that crept up the sides of Remus’ neck gave him away. “It was!”

“I do genuinely love how adventurous you are,” Remus defended. “Just read the next question before I embarrass myself even more, please.”

“You’re never living that down. What’s the best and worst part of playing on the same team?”

“I think having the same schedule and really understanding the hockey lifestyle helps us avoid a lot of disagreements that couples have, but if we have a bad game then we both come home grumpy and that’s never very fun.”

Sirius nodded. “When you were still the PT we hung out less, since you had to stick around after practice and get there early to set up. Now, we can spend more time together in the mornings and evenings which is just the best. I’d say the worst part is that people have started comparing us in the media, and that’s total bullshit.”

“Yeah.” Remus scrunched up his nose. “It doesn’t have any real impact on our relationship, but it’s irritating to see it circulating when there are so many more important things they could be focusing on.”

“Last question, make it good,” Sirius warned, leaning back so Hattie could stretch her legs further.

“Okay, from Lathan in Texas, how do you have such beautiful hair?”

Sirius seemed rather surprised and sat up straighter. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Well, Lathan, I wash it every other day with shampoo and conditioner and I don’t brush it while it’s dry. Once I get out of the shower, I just kind of…” he shook his head and the ear-length curls mussed a bit. “do that until the extra water is gone and let it air dry.”

“Godspeed, Lathan,” Remus said gravely. “Looks like that’s all we have time for today.”

“Thanks for tuning in, and see you later!”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #wolfstar #lumosinlove #sweater weather #social media #my fic #fanfic #hattie

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ha-hatdog · 4 years

Text

all in a day's work / daisuke kambe

somebod requested a badass reader? sorry for this very late update. online classes is kicking my butt. you wanted either a scenario or a headcanon so i decided to make both. long scenario/headcanom mashup ahead.

requsted by anon: Hii!! I just want to say first of all, that I just discovered your blog and I just fell in love with it, keep going you’re amazing❤️❤️ soo can I ask for a Headcanon or scenario (it’s up to you) where Haru has a female friend who works in modern crimes prevention and is really badass (like she knows how to fight and all that stuff), so one day she helps Daisuke and Haru in a investigation in which a fight starts and Daisuke gets impressed by her abilities and develops a crush on her (????)

UNEDITED

It was another mundane morning for the the Modern Crimes department. The room was oddly colder, and the civil servants occupying the compact and simple space secluded themselves with their own businesses. Mahoro Saeki sat on the couch partaking in an unhealthy snack she had shipped from a foreign country, Kamei Shinnosuke was browsing through the internet and more than once using to his advantage the global connection that comes with his access to the computer in order to satisfy his habits and indecent hobbies, Yumoto Teppei tuning in to the occuring horse race in an international channel in his device, Nakamoto Chosuke merrily bading his time reading through documents of recent illegal activities assigned to his care, Kiyomizu Yukihiro fiddling with yet another craft he made out of wood and glue, Kato Haru awaiting the telephone to sound off and have another indiviual summon him for a petty crime, and Kambe Daisuke seated far from the othere, legs crossed and chin resting on his knuckles as he appraised the tranquil area.

Haru slammed his hands on his desk and threw his head, moaning in disdain. "Why isn't the phone ringing?" Whined he as his posture was regained after a moment or so. His eyes, lit with pure frustration and impatience, glared at the telephone, as though threatening without verbalizing his objective would somehow make it ring. "Come on, ring, you stupid phone. How come you always ring whenever I don't want you to and don't when I do?"

"It's a slow day." Remarked Kamei, not takint his eyes off his computer as he regarded his colleague. "Try to enjoy it. You can have all your action some other day."

Haru leaned against his chair, back sliding against the backrest and the back of his neck hitting the edge of his leverage. "Not everyone has weird hobby to keep themselves entertained." Countered Haru, and a pout formed on the blond male's lips at the comment. "This job is what keeps me from going insane."

The offended male turned his swivel chair to face Haru, face scrunched with the same attribute he exuded, "Oi, don't say it like that. It's bad if you describe it like that."

"It's weird without even having to add the adjective." Saeki chimed in between her chewing, humming as the flavor of the chip formerly cinched in the possession of her fingers travelled to her taste buds.

Kamei whipped around to her position, shoulders tensr with the taste of truth and reality, both of which ignored in favor of living in bliss. "It's nor weird. It's perfectly normal for men to be looking at those . . . sort of inappropriate . . . videos." His words trailed off as he came to realization that his own defense betrayed him.

"I agree, but not at work." Haru simply retorted. "Would you want to see me cooking a whole feast inside the precint?"

Kamei looked up in ponder, mouth curling as his thought process stuttered before he presented his inquiry, "Do we get to taste the food you made though?"

Haru stared at the blond man with an impervious mask decorating his appearance, unimpressed with how the man broached the metaphorical event served to him. "Never mind." Shaking his head with amicable dismay, Haru turned his seat to a half circle, arms taking space upon the the armrests. His line of sight crossed over the facile yet minimalistic design of their room, the dull colors of the walls an addition to his disinterest until it landed on a brooding and well vested man.

The referred individual had boredom etched all over his striking features, the lack of events occuring in the Modern Crimes he could invest his time in had him in a bad mood although showcasing it to his colleagues was not his cup of tea. He and Haru were different, and how they handle themselves in this patience consuming day was one of them.

"I'm surprised you're still here." Haru conveyed with a vestige of astonishment. Truly the older man had no such ability that could understand the complexity of his wealthy counteepart. Most days, whenever days were a little too slow for his liking, he would up and retreat back to his home (mansion seems more of an appropriate term to refer to his household) but lately, he had been spending more time in the precinct, and Haru did not know how he should react to this development, or devolvement. His comment floated in the density formulating inside the office, and everybody present swiveled their heads to await his response. "I thought you'd be back in your house now. No cases today, it seems. No games to entertain yourself with today."

"Tell me something I have yet to know, Inspector Kato." Retorted Daisuke, and a tick mark grew on Haru's forehead, but his displeasure to his rude counter was ignored as Daisuke brought his fingers to his ear. He spoke, enough for others to hear his statements. "HEUSC, locate the nearest and most recent crimes occuring within the area."

Haru rose from his seat, alarmed. "Oi, what do you think you're doing?"

Daisuke did not respond to Haru and awaited his butler's relay of information. It did not take more than a few seconds until it has accumulated enough information to submit to his master. "A few streets away, a murder of two took place in a bar called Denyr. Investigation is in process currently."

Daisuke removed his hand from his earpiece and looked towards a flabbergasted. "You heard HEUSC. Let's get going." Daisuke stood up from the couch, dusting himself off before making his way towards the door.

"Wait a minute," Clamored Haru, and Daisuke looked over his shoulder to gaze at him. Haru gritted his teeth, irritated. "You can't just up and go and do whatever you want! This is not your call! We weren't called so we'll just disturb everyone else who's already there."

"Aren't cops allowed to interfere in crimes or disturbance in peace whenever they want? It's their job." Said Daisuke. "And besides, you're just as eager as I am to do something other than waste the entire day waiting for the phone to ring." Then he frowned. "Unless, I'm mistaken, of course. I have no qualms leaving you here. I'm sure you'll be useful for warming up your chair for tomorrow."

Haru growled at him. "You stupid . . . " He grunted and took his jacket off his chair. "Fine! I'll go with you, just to keep you in check!"

“Wait a minute,” Exclaimed Saeki, causing Haru and Daisuke to turn just as the latter had began turning the doorknob. The pink haired female abandoned her seat in favor of giving them a standing and patronizing narrowed glower. “Haru, aren’t you forgetting something today?”

Haru looked up in thought, trying to recall what Saeki was implying. Nothing significant manifested in his line of thought and he turned to his colleague with a frown conjuring in his mien. “Uh, I don’t think I’m forgetting anything.” Answered Haru.

Daisuke grunted, displeased by the interrupting. “Then let’s get going.”

Daisuke pushed the door open and stepped outside. Haru was following suit, shrugging his jacket on when Saeki called out for them once more, particularly the older officer. She had her arms crossed, an unamused pout forming on her brims. “Haru, don’t be stupid!” Clamored she. “I can’t believe you forgot what today is!”

Haru let out an exasperated sigh. “I honestly can’t remember what makes today so important.” Said he. “What is it?”

Kamei rolled his swivel chair back, making sure to reveal himself from any obstructions blocking his form. “Eh? You of all people forgot (Your Name) is coming back?” He conveyed and whistled right after. “That’s surprising, and disappointing. I’m sure she won’t be thrilled knowing you’ll be the last one welcoming her back after her hospitalization – her best friend, her partner in crime.”

Haru’s face fell upon acquiring the information relayed to him. His mind refreshed, finally remembering the time when you took your time from resting in the hospital just to tell him you were soon to be discharged after the outcome of you recklessly electing to throw yourself in front of him when the perpetrator pulled the trigger and shot a bullet his way. You were fortunate enough to have the cylindrical metal projectile imbedded nowhere near any of your vital veins, but due to your blood loss as well as the stacking strain and stress in your body forced you to be admitted in the care of the hospital. Haru was sure you were not supposed to move when you selected to take your phone and call him because he can hear the nurse in the other line scolding you, telling you to end the connection and to rest easy for the remaining week. He could only miss you more – he knew how much you hated doing anything but police work. Haru couldn’t believe he forgot about that since he distinctly remember hardly being able to be consumed by sleep when excitement for your return filled him.

“Shit, it’s today.” Cursed Haru as his shoulders dropped. He slapped his palm against his forehead, groaning. “My God – how can I forget? I’m the worst partner ever.”

Daisuke glanced at Haru, bemused. This was the first time he had heard over this (Your Name) woman. To him, Haru was always a lone wolf who preferred to be alone in his work unless he was required to have a companion with him. Or maybe because it was loyalty to his said partner kept him from going to missions with another. Daisuke looked back at Saeki and Kamei, “Who’s (Your Name)?”

Haru wanted nothing more than to hide your existence from Daisuke. You already had so much in your plate and having a rich bastard interpolating with it was more than you can handle, especially after being hospitalized for quite a while. But it was inevitable for the two of you to meet seeing as Daisuke seemed to be taking a strong liking with playing cop and were in the same department as him. So resigning with the concept of keeping you away from Daisuke, Haru let out a deep sigh. “(Your Name) is another cop in our department. She’s my partner.”

Daisuke blinked at him. “Someone can actually put up with you?”

Haru angrily show his fist to Daisuke, irritation swathing his figure. “What was that? I should be the one saying something that! I don’t know how Suzue-san can put up with your rich ass!”

“Maybe if you’re rich, you’ll know.” Countered Daisuke.

Before Haru could grab hold of Daisuke’s collar, the latter efficiently evaded his attempt to do so and stalked off into the corridor, adjusting his pristine suit as he ventured away. “If you want to stay here and wait for your partner, fine by me. I can go alone and handle the murders all by myself.” He said without looking back to meet Haru’s hardened gaze. “I’m sure this (Your Name) person is more important than the safety of other Japanese citizens.”

“O-Oi, I haven’t even decided yet! Don’t assume I’m not going!” As much as Haru wanted to be the first person to greet you back to work, he too loved justice and cared about the people who wanted to live in peace. Clicking his tongue out of annoyance, he turned to everyone left in the room, and all of them returned his gaze with bemused expressions. “Kambe and I will be quick. We’ll just drop by the crime scene and then cime back. I’m sure I’ll be able to return here before (Your Name) can. If not, tell her I’ll be back soon.”

***

daisuke was never inclined to pursue a romantic relationship. ever since witnessing his mother died, his life had been reserved into finding the truth. but little did he know, his perspective in love and romance will change, and hary will most certainly freak the fuck out

the two police officers arrived in the crime scene in a short amount of time. with how daisuke was speeding, it was understandable they would get there fast and very understandable how haru's whole life flashed right before his eyes. daisuke was actually tempted to go even faster but opposed to it after a while as he did not want to deal more with haru's tantrum after he recovered.

of course when they arrived there, the detectives assigned to the case shooed them off because they're not part of the investigations.

daisuke knew how to deal with them, of course. he brandished stacks of yen to include them in the case and the detectives were like 👀 because you know, who doesn't want extra cash?

haru didn't bother complaning anymore and just went to work. he wanted to get back to the station as soon as possible and welcome you first. best friend efforts, get a best friend like haru.

haru: "i scout the ground floor, you go upstairs - AND NO SPENDING MONEY YOU RICH BASTARD"

daisuke:

haru:

daisuke:

haru:

daisuke:

haru:

haru: "and - "

daisuke left before haru could finish his sentence. really daisuke just stayed and didn't answer him just so he could piss haru off. it worked nonetheless and daisuke can hear haru cursing at him as he walked upstairs

but we all know whatever daisuke does pisses haru off so so it didn't matter.

daisuke went up to the second floor if the bar and he saw how thrashed the place was

overturned tables, fallen chairs, broken bottles, reeks of alcohol, smears and pools of blood but everything seemed pleasant to look at compared to the two corpses that laid out on the floor with police tapes around them. it looked like a small massacre occured in there, and thay surely was the case

head smashed, chunks of flesh scattered, broken skulls but daisuke merely stared at them blankly

he wasn't disgusted nor disturbed. seeing his own mother's corpse was enough for him to deem gore as just another normal addition to his life

like another detective, daisuke began looking for clues. he searched the entire place like the good and professional detective he is -

who am i kidding - the first thing he did once he sees the condition of the second floor was, or course, ask HEUSC for information. screw asking them from fellow detectives when daisuke has his own ai butler

ahh perks of being a kambe

daisuke: "heusc, tell me the exact number of people that attended this bar between nine am to twelve in the afternoon"

heusc: "understood"

it did not take long until heusc responded

heusc: "the exact number of people who attended genyr is twenty seven. twelve in the ground floor, twelve in the ground floor, fifteen in the second. there are two dead bodies found in the second floor - "

daisuke snapped his head to the ceiling as soon as he heard a soft creak emit from over him

daisuke stared at the ceiling for about a moment before askint heusc - "look at the footage from the surveillance cameras surrounding the the bar. how many people fled outside?"

daisuke heard another creek above him, and this time he was sure he wasn't alone

and his unknown companion would love to have him in the same state as the corpses

and heusc replied: "twenty four"

daisuke closed his eyes, "is that so?"

heusc: "one person remains inside the building"

daisuke dropped his communication with his ai and positioned himself to a clean posture, back straight and hands tucked inside his pockets

daisuke: "you can come out now. no use hiding. i know you're here"

no response

daisuke clicked his tongue, "i heard you moving around in the ceiling the entire time i'm here and it's only been two minutes. you're not as discreet as you think you are. reveal yourself now and i'd consider lessening your time in jail."

still, silence greeted him

daisuke was growing irritated by the lack of answer given to him.

daisuke: "a coworker of mine needs to be back at the station right now for a reunion with his girlfriend - " daisuke paused as he imagined haru having a girlfriend. " - so let's keep this short and simple. surrender and as i have promised earlier, i will try to get you lesser years in prison"

but daisuke was not intending to keep this promise. even he knows giving a generous offer to criminals would weaken their resolve

but again, there was no answer

but he expected this

he always does to every case he gets handed with, or forced his hands to

daisuke observed the ceiling through a blank lense before sighing "if this is how you want things to go down, then so be it"

daisuke touched his earring and deliberately increased the volume of his voice as he spoke to heusc - "heusc, purchase the bar and its neighboring buildings and set a bomb for twenty minutes. tell the others to get out of here as soon as possible" he sneered at the ceiling. "i don't mind dying inside this bar with the suspect. it's the norm for a police officer to risk theit lives in the name of justice"

he sounded like haru for a moment there

heusc responded immediately: "understood, sir. balance: unlimited"

it was after that statement did a response come to light

the ceiling above daisuke broke as a firm kick broke through the fragile material

daisuke jumped away before a slim figure of a man dropped down from the hole

before daisuke could move, the man dashed pass him and out of the room, his oustretchrd hand barely grazing the bloodied clothes he wore

daisuke didn't waste time and recovered from his stunned state before following after the perpetrator

daisuke kept losing track of the man from time to the time and when he got down to the grounr floor, he saw no sign of him

nobody was present inside the bar anymore per order of heusc and money

all except for haru of course who immediately ran out of the place he was scouring and back to the main room

daisuke knew he heard heusc's order to leave the building but

haru will always be haru

haru, upon seeing daisuke's solemn state, asked: "what happened"

daisuke: "the man - did you see him?"

*haru, confused noises*: "what man? who?"

daisuke: "the man who killed the peple upstairs - he was still here and he ran down, didn't you hear him?"

haru: "no, i didn't - " his sentence was cut off when a figure suddenly lunged at him

lo and behold the criminal who was hiding behind an overturned couch

haru and the man tumbled down to the ground, fists and feet swinging wildly. daisuke watched as haru struggled to acquire dominance over the situation

daisuke: "heusc, identity of the killer"

heusc: "sakatoshi matona, a former bouncer for genyr until he was let go without reason"

haru strung out profanities and grunts as he and the matona rolled on the floor, trying to pin the other down. with a boost of strength, matona managed to get the upper hand and he put all his weight on haru. his hands found haru's neck and began strangling him

daisuke was like aren't you cop? win you idiot in the inside and haru was like aren't you a cop? help me you bastard in the inside. just the norm for the reckless and seemingly suicidal cops

haru: "gwet hiff op opp mii"

heusc: "transalation: get him off of me"

daisuke took action after that. he pulled matona off of haru and immediately socked him on the face

matona stumbled back but daisuke underestimated the time he would tske to recover and he tumbled back as the criminal retaliated with a punch of his own

daisuke dodged the assault but in the process, temporarily losing his posture. matona took this as an opportunity to continue his line of attacks, landing a few good hits on daisuke but majority of the time, he failed

daisuke recovered from the initial shock matona has inflicted him with and returned to momentum ane he was preparing his attack when bam - haru kato

my day be so fine then boom - haru kato

daisuke's eyes widened when haru, after standing up, tried to lock matona's arms to prevent him from moving anymore but instead, his chest met with an elbow

air was taken away from him and haru staggered backwards, clutching his chest and matona seized him

daisuke cursed and shot forward to help him but stopped when matona took haru's gun away from him and pointed it towards haru

matona: "stand back or i'll shoot"

haru raised his hands in surrender but daisuke did not

and haru was: ?????!!!!! tryna get me killed????!!!!

daisuke: "i can keep my promise, you know"

matona pointed the gun at daisuke

matona: "how can you when you're just a lowly cop?"

daisuke took out his cigar and lit up

daisuke: "yes, because a lowly cop can just buy buildings with a single command from an ai"

matona growled "rich, snobby, uncaring, and a liar. you're just the same like the people i killed"

daisuke opened his mouth to reply when a feminine voice cuts in

"finally, a confession. now we can get this over with"

before anyone could react appropriately, matona felt a hand take hold of his stolen gun and tore it away from his grasp before a heel sunk into his stomach, causing him to spit out blood

daisuke saw her, a woman standing with such grace, confidence, and strength with a gun in her hand and a smirk on her brims

daisuke couldn't move not from shock, but with admiration

who was this woman?

and what was this thudding in his chest

doki doki

his face was hot, very hot

and so was the woman

"( YOUR NAME )???"

daisuke turned and saw haru gawking at you

haru: (@[]@!!)

daisuke: （－－）

also daisuke: is that really (your name)? haru's partner? haru's girlfriend?

daisuke: hmp hmp（｀ー´）

you turned to both of them and daisuke was blown away with you that he nearly fell

he thinks you're very pretty

V E R Y

doki doki

you smiled widely at them: "haru, it's so nice to see you again" and then you turned to daisuke

daisuke froze and his cigar dropped

you glanced back at haru: "you already replaced me?"

haru: "tf no! rich boy here wanted to plays cops for a while so he went to our department. you know me, i could never replace you"

daisuke glared at haru

it waa obvious he was trying hard not to upset you (though you didn't look like the type who would get easily offended)

plus he's pushing a single and narrow minded narrative about him towards you. what if you hate him?

but you didn't and merely smiled at him, ignoring the criminal trembling from the pain of your kick

you: "my name is (your name)"

daisuke.exe has stopped working

jk that won't happen to daisuke

for now at least

daisuke: "kambe daisuke"

you, smiling: "nice to meet you, kambe daisuke!"

haru: "how did you find us here?"

you: "was gon get a drink before i head to the station but then i saw police tapes and stuff"

haru looked alarmed: "YOU WERE GOING TO DRINK RIGHT AFTER YOU GOT RELEASED FROM THE HOSPITAL"

you turned away from them, facing matona: "you can continue scolding me after we arrest this killer, haru. sorry in advance for haru, daisuke. he can be pretty overbearing and protective"

daisuke: "i can tell"

haru was offended okay?

you were already teaming up with daisuke to tease? betrayal.

haru: "how dare you (your name) - "

you did not let haru to finish his sentence and starter beating the shit out of matona like DAMN GHORL

daisuke and haru watched from a distance as you expertly used the gun to your advantage without pulling the trigger. you used the metal to hit him in fragile parts of his body in order to limit his movement

daisuke gawked at you

he has never seen such fluid execution for an arrest

daisuke looked: O-O

haru, seeing him, smugly crossed his arms and said: "you get to see how amazing (your name) is as a cop. she's my partner"

just as he said that, you pinned the criminal down on the ground, gun discarded, your one hand straining his arm behind his back and the other pinning his other hand on the ground

you: "i just got out of the hospital. how did i still win?"

daisuke suddenly frowned

oh, right. she's haru's girlfriend.

several minutes later, you successfully managed to arrest sakatoshi matona and the other detectives came to take him. but of course, you made sure you, daisuke, and haru were getting the recognition

like hell you were letting someone else get the glory for your efforts

you returned to daisuke and haru, smiling

they were talkiny when you hugged haru from behind

you: "haru i missed youuuu. it was lonely without your annoying butt looking out after me all the time"

haru flushed red

haru: "if you didn't catch the bullet for me then - "

you: "and let you get shot instead? nu uh, no way. i would take any bullet for you. right, daisuke?"

he felt speechless when you regarded him

daisuke didn't know what else to say to you so he said: "yes, i agree"

but somehow the the thought of you getting shot angered him

haru looked at daisuke, thinking: he acting kinda sus rn

you turned to haru and the two of you began catching up, smiling and laughing

you two looked comfortable so with each other. you two were carbon copies of one another, except you were ten times better, sorry haru

you two were made for each other

no wonder you're his girlfriend

you: "how's everyone in the precinct?"

haru: "still the same. everyone missed you"

daisuke: "are you two together?"

haru: 👁👄👁

you: *long ass laughing emoji*

haru turned very red, shouting: "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT IDEA"

daisuke: "you said you were partners - "

you: "i didn't know you liked me that way, haru - "

haru: "NO I DON'T KAMBE WAS JUST BEING A DUMBASS"

you tittered and turned to daisuke: "no, we're not together, kambe-san" you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "sorry if i scared you"

daisuke felt relief wash over him

daisuke: "i was just wondering. you and haru seemed very close so i was just making sure i wasn't misunderstanding"

daisuke froze with wide eyes when you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek

and you whispered to him: "gotta work on being discreet when you look at me. i can practically see you chasing after me in the future with how you were looking at me. i'm flattered you find me that fascinating"

you turned to the shook haru: "i like this one, haru. we should bring him along with our cases"

you regarded them both: "anyways, i'll be heading over to the station first. i can write up the report and have man behind bars quickly. don't worry though, i'll make all three of us have the glory. i trust that you two can finish up here without me?"

the two men wanted to say something but both of them were stunned. you just kissed daisuke on the cheek and your best friend saw it. daisuke's eyes were wide and haru had his jaw dropping down

they still didn't say anything when you bid them farewell and just watched as you went to a police car with another cop where matona was and sped off

daisuke can feel his heart hammering against his chest

what was this feeling? it was so strange and . . . it's just strange, but he was not oppossed to thie feeling

in fact, he wanted more of it. as long as it came from you, it was fine

haru, however, was not

haru looked like he had seen the most horrifying thing ever

B E T R A Y E D

his best friend and this cop wannabe?

D I S G U S T H A N G

daisuke cleared his throat and turned to haru to say something but was met with a finger pointed at his face and haru looking vexed

haru: "you - "

the bar and the buildings nearby exploded beforw haru could say anything more. everyone except for daisuke was startled and sunk down on the ground

daisuke was not though. and he remained standing. not for the reason he forgot about the bomb he instructed heusc to plant but because

- you kissed him and he was self destructing

daisuke held back the smile threatening to tear through his face

haru: "w-what was t-t-th - "

daisuke: "i forgot about the bomb, sorry"

529 notes · View notes

keullaesigbeogeo · 3 years

Text

My Empress- Min Yoongi

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k +

Summary: Suga and you are together as boyfriend and girlfriend, but you don’t know about him being the Emperor.

He pushed you against the ground, slightly hovering over you.

“Don’t make a sound.” he whispered as the door suddenly opened. Guards started storming in, yelling words in a different language, everything sounding like gibberish to you. A guard slowly started walking up to where both of you were laying.

Your eyes started moving around quickly before you started moaning out loud, jabbing him in the stomach to make him do the same. He caught on and did the same. The guard opened the door to the room you guys were in before immediately closing it with a blushing face and walking away. You quickly pushed him off of you before glaring at him.

His body was propped up, looking oddly relaxed. “Do you wanna tell me why there were palace guards chasing you?”

“Suga! Can you get the laundry?” You yelled as you hung up the laundry. He walked up behind you with the big brown basket. He placed it on the ground before helping you hang everything up, finishing half of it before hugging you from the back.

“How about we have some fun after this?” He whispered into your ear.

You snorted before flicking him on his forehead. “Are you stupid? The guards are scheduled to do their yearly inspection today.”

His face turned pale, almost becoming white. “T-Today?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah… what’s wrong?” He shook his head, his breaths slowly starting to get shaky.

“It’s nothing.” He continued hugging you, nestling his head in your shoulder. You lightly shrugged before continuing to hand up your clothes, not noticing his uneasy eyes.

Later:

“See you later!” Suga yelled at you while walking off. You smiled before waving your hand. He was heading home. You always wondered where he lived, but whenever you asked him, he avoided the question. So you just go with it now. Just as he left, some palace guards walked up to her.

“Hello Miss. I’m Seokjin, and his is Hoseok.” Seokjin formally told her while bowing.

“Hey!” Hoseok yelled while bowing down energetically. “You can call us Jin and J-Hope though!” He seemed like a little ball of sunshine, making you immediately like him. You smiled at both of them.

“Hello Jin and J-Hope. Would you like to come in?” You asked.

They nodded their heads. “If you don’t mind, yes. We need to check around.” You nodded your head, allowing them inside. They looked around for sometime, looking underneath the couch, and even in the pantry. Once they finished, they walked towards you and bowed before Jin handed you a slip of paper from his pocket.

“Thank you Miss. You’ve passed the annual inspection.” You took the paper from him. “Please hand this to the guards coming over here later.” They both left, leaving you with the slip of paper.

“Are they gone?” You jumped, your heart not beating.

“What the fuck Suga! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

He laughed before pulling you closer, kissing you. “I think you mean it the other way…” You started at him in confusion. “Nothing… Did you by any chance get a slip of paper from the two guards who came here?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah, it’s weird though. They usually don’t give these.”

“Can I see the slip?” You gave him the slip, watching him read it. He whistled. “Damn… a slip to see the King himself.” Your eyes widened.

“Fucking hell! Let me see that!” You grabbed that, wondering if he was telling the truth.

“It’s not very lady-like to cuss ya-know.” You stuck your tongue out at him before reading the paper. “Oh my god, Suga!” You started freaking out. “What the heck does someone wear to see the King?”

He smiled before pulling out something wrapped in brown paper from his robe. “Wear this.” You opened the bag to see the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen. It was a black and white dress, very rare to come by in your kingdom.

You gasped in surprise. “Where did you get this, Suga? It’s beautiful!”

“I have my ways.” He kissed your on your cheek before walking away. You stared at his figure. Why was he being so mysterious today? You heard a knock on the door before you opened it to see two different palace guards.

“Hello Ma’am. I’m Jungkook and this is Jimin. We’re here to see your paper.” You handed them the slip of paper that Suga gave back to you before leaving. Jimin took your paper before reading it and handing it back to you, nodding his head at Jungkook.

“Would you be fine with us escorting you, Miss?” Jimin questioned.

“Sure, just give me a minute to get changed.” You quickly ran to your room before changing into the dress Suga gave you, wearing your white diamond clip in your hair. You walked out and stood in front of them. “I’m ready.” All of you started walking, Jungkook taking you onto his horse behind him.

The wind felt good as it blew through your hair, making your dress blow behind you beautifully. The ride ended as soon as it started, Jungkook helping your off of his horse. “This is where we leave you.” Jungkook bowed down, Jimin following him.

“See you later Miss!” Jimin yelled while he and Jungkook walked off with their horses in tow. You watched them before taking a quick breath and walking into the palace, looking around, taking everything in. The palace was beautiful, everything clean and shining brightly.

“Hey!” They was a whisper-shout come from behind you. You turned around to see Suga crouching down behind a pillar.

“Suga? What are you doing here?” He ignore your question, pulling you towards him, behind the pillar. He made a shushing motion, pointing at some of the guards. They seemed to be looking for someone.

“Over there!” A guard pointed at us behind the pillar. “Taehyung, go take your group to get them. I’ll take my group through the back.” The man yelled while running the opposite way, Taehyung and his group running towards us.

“Shit… run!” Suga yelled while running away, pulling you with him. He easily maneuvered through the palace before stopping at a little house-like structure in the garden. He pulled your in there before pushing you into a room, following you.

“Where did they go?” You heard the Taehyung man ask.

“I don’t know.” The other man from earlier replied to his question.

“Namjoon, can you check here? We’ll go back to the front.”

“Sure.” You could hear multiple footsteps run away while others came towards your hiding spot.

Suga quickly moved further back into the room. He pushed you against the ground, slightly hovering over you.

His body was propped up, looking oddly relaxed. “Do you wanna tell me why there were palace guards chasing you?”

“You’ll see later, let’s first get you to the ceremony.” You sighed before nodding your head.

“But you better tell me later.” You threatened. He grinned at your tiny body.

“Got it.” He quickly gave you directions to where to go before disappearing. You groaned. Why does he keep on doing that? You walked to the place he told you to go to, people staring at you and whispering.

“Where do you think she got those clothes?”

“Aish, she’s so pretty…”

“If she’s here for the Emperor, we’re all going to lose.”

You were puzzled at what they were talking about but walked up to where your name was on the ground. You stood there, blocking out the occasional whisper about you.

There was a loud bell ringing before someone took the stage. “Hello everyone. Today we will be concluding the tryouts for Empress.” Your eyes enlarged. Empress? But I already like someone. “All of you here today have either from a good background or were chosen directly by his Highness.” There was a soft reaction from the crowd at this.

“His Highness choose someone specifically?” Everyone got silent as the announcer continued speaking. “The following women, please step forward.” He started calling names, you started playing with your fingers before he called you out. Your body shook ever so slightly as you walked up towards the podium.

A total of seven girls were called, including you. Another bell rang before everyone started bowing, you following them, acting like you knew what to do. A figure walked out of a shaded area surrounded by guards. He was wearing black and white just like you, making it seem like you were matching. He walked up towards the seven of you standing in a line before lightly pulling you towards him and kissing you.

The crowd gasped as he pulled away, taking your dumbfounded self towards the palace.

As he pulled you into a bedroom, you let him drag you to the bed before sitting down, patting the bed next to him. You sat down, shocked but understanding what was happening.

“Suga… are you…. the Emperor?” His eyes looked into yours before he nodded his head.

“Yeah… I'm sorry for not telling you earlier… I was just scared. I thought that’d you leave me. I know that you might not like me because of what happened to your family and-” You cut him off by swiftly pecking his lips.

“Suga… I’d never be mad at you or anything. What happened to my family isn’t your fault. But I that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t tell me things like this.” You were sad, yes. But you accepted the fact that he was doing this all for you.

He beamed at you, giving you one of his biggest smiled you’ve ever seen before it slowly turned into a smirk. He moved closer before moving his hands up and down you waist, placing his forehead on yours, connecting your lips.

“Will you do the honor of being my queen?” You blushed before looking down and nodding. He pulled your body closer before kissing you, his mouth molding with yours. Your mouth immediately opened in a moan, his tongue quickly filling up the gap. You moved your tongue against his, slowly moving your body against his.

You heard him let out what sounded like growl before he not-so-lightly pushed you onto the bed. Your eyes looked around uneasily, scared of what might happen.

He seemed to understand what was going on in your head before he started speaking. “Don’t worry My Empress. I’ll take responsibility.” You felt your face get red again as your body started to feel hot, he slowly pulled off your robe, his following right behind yours. “Tonight you are all mine.”

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

DEVIL MAY GRIND

(I)- Can You Touch This?

Dante/ AMAB! Reader

Series Summary: From a surprise rendezvous to a male strip club on your birthday to a private dance, you end up seeing eye-to-eye rather than eye-to-groin with a cowboy stripper named Dante Sparda.

Work Summary: A shy and short homebody celebrating your birthday with friends, you end up somewhere you’d never expect: a male strip club. And what you’d also never expect is a certain red-devil/cowboy stripper to lay his special treatment on you.

Tags/Warnings:18+, AMAB! Reader, Stripper!AU, Minors Do Not Try It, Wholesome Filth

Rodeo’s Two-Pieces: And after months, Rodeo presents the male version of this soon-to-be filth. *tilts cowboy hat over eyes and leans in seat*

You were never one for large crowds, alcohol, loud music, and nudity. So what a mess you were in, your friends dragging you into a strip club.

It wasn’t your fault, they promised you were all going for a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. No loud noises, no crowds, and especially, you didn’t even know why you had to specify, no naked guys! That’s what happened at first. You went and blew out your candles on your cake at a nice place, but then things got weird. Your friends had got you thoughtful gifts, except one of them who promised to give it to you after another “surprise.”

They practically herded you to their car, blindfolding and ear-muffing you while giggling. After driving in some unfamiliar directions, you were pulled into a strange building.

So when you couldn’t hear your thoughts due to the overbearing bass in the room you were in, you realized you should’ve known better. The blindfold and earmuffs were taken off and you opened your eyes to a neon-lit room with the most hard-cut abs right in your face.

“A strip club?! W-why would you think I’d want to go to a strip club?”

“Okay, first of all (Y/N). It’s a male strip club. Second, come on! I know you want to touch some diamond abs!” One of your friends exclaimed as they threw bills at one very tan and very oiled-up man named Diego. The box from before landed on your lap, and you unwrapped it to find a giant stack of dollar bills.

“Now stuff them bills down some hottie’s pants!”

The orange thong-wearing male with the most defined quads you had ever glanced at winked at your friend and opted to dance on someone else. Clutching your drink, you swallowed thickly as other males who went to the gym every other hour thrust their hips proactively at you.

Your friends had called ahead and bought the lot of you a table to the stage, much to your chagrin.

Luckily, your ability to disappear in a room, with your meek personality and small stature, came in handy in these situations. The tall and buff guys your friends screamed over seemed to prefer the company of the more extroverted and thirsty. While other tables farther from the stage had easy contact with the not-themed strippers, you were all confronted with the stage floor dancers.

“My god, how many themes do these guys dress in?” You squeaked as an entertainer dressed like James Bond (minus the clothes except for the bowtie and gun holster) ground on the stage floor.

“Not enough! Now make it rain, (Y/N).” Another friend demanded as she took another shot.

You made a noise as your hand was forcibly placed onto an eight-pack. You quickly threw a wad of bills at the man and ran off to the bar.

“I gotta go!” You panicked, speed-walking to the bar in your favorite pair of dressy sneakers. Stomach quivering, you put a few bills down and asked for a stronger drink. Maybe you could pass out on the table and your friends would feel bad and take you home.

You sighed as you watched your friends have the time of their lives, although they noted your absence.

“First time?” The bartender asked, sliding your fruity drink to you. You fiddled with the napkin. A woman posed in the corner with the logo “Devil May Cry” to the side of her, all lined in neon pink.

“Oh!... Yeah, it is.” You mumbled shyly. You blushed at his blue-eyed stare. Luckily, he wore a collared white shirt so you could look at him without bleeding out of your nose. He was very handsome, with rugged features and slight facial hair. His stark white hair shined even in the dim lighting.

“Ah, could tell. Watched you get dragged in here.” He chuckled.

“I-I was tricked, first of all!” You exclaimed, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“It’s alright. Your next rounds on me if you stay a lil longer.” He winked, wiping a glass. A few other people came and went, requesting all sorts of raunchy-titled drinks. Despite that, he leaned on the table where you sat, making idle conversation.

“I’m Dante.”

“Nice to meet you, Dante. I’m (Y/N).” You impulsively stuck your hand out to shake and stilled at his strong and warm grip.

He whistled.

“Nice name for a nice man. It’s your birthday right?” You nodded.

“What did you wish for?”

“Peace and quiet.” He laughed at that, gesturing to your friends who screamed and clapped at a dark-skinned stripper who ripped off his pants.

“With those friends?” He chuckled.

“They’re a lot more restrained. This is an exception.” You whined.

The conversation grew longer. You learned that Dante worked here with his twin brother Vergil. He loved pizza and strawberry ice cream, along with nice motorcycles. A total manly man, if you asked yourself.

You found a safe space talking to him since you didn’t have to look at nude guys with your back turned.

You were hoping to talk the night away until a similarly white-haired male with a serious glare rounded the corner.

Swiping back a few stray hairs, the esteemed brother Vergil knocked the smile off his twin’s face.

“You fool! Your shift has been over for some time now.” He snapped. Dante rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, this is old douchebag.” You giggled at his comment, quickly stopping when meeting eyes with the frigid twin.

“Have you been speaking ill of me? I will-” Dante threw a towel at his brother’s face before leaving the bartending station. By leaving, he jumped over the counter.

“Hey, (Y/N), nice talking to you. I’ll see you later.” The white-haired man left to the employee’s room.

“Alright-” You muttered. You’d sit, but Vergil’s cold glare prompted you to leave and rejoin your friends.

“Where were you? Chatting up the bartender?”

“Look at you. Being social in a strip club.” They teased.

After a few more dancers, you couldn’t help but miss the blue-eyed bartender with his quips and casual flirtiness.

Suddenly, the music and lights went off. The crowd stirred. Your friend grabbed your arm.

“Oh boy, they’re gonna need a mop after this.”

“Ew!” You cried out. Your friends sang that one horribly sexual song from the radio. Something about parking a truck in a garage and about wet-

A shirtless DJ grabbed the mic.

“And now, for our next entertainer, we have the Legendary Lady Killer. Hold onto your panties and your wedding rings, you’re all in for the ride of your life.”

The lights were turned back on from back to front. On stage, stood a muscular man with a cowboy hat and shawl. His legs were perfectly framed by black leather chaps and boots. You turned as red as his shawl as you could see his formidable bulge from yards across.

His spurs clinked on the floor as people began to cheer at his physique. Your jaw dropped in shock.

White hair.

“Ladies and gents, I got some questions for y’all.” He drawled, lowering his hat.

“Yes! I’m single!” Someone yelled from the back. He chuckled as others screamed with agreement.

“That’s nice ma’am. But really, I got three questions.” He made his way down the stage, his shadow covering your table.

He palmed his chest and abs, showing white chest hairs and slicked-down muscles.

“Can you touch this?” Everyone screamed for yes. He tutted.

“No, no, no.” He waggled his finger. He spun and exposed his lush tush. He was packing it front and back and you blushed while putting your face in your hands.

His hands groped his butt. Even with his giant hands, he still had more ass to spare.

“Can you touch this?” The screams grew louder. He waggled his finger again, wiggling his butt.

“No, no, no.” The crowd awed. He turned back around, a cocky grin on his face.

“Now,” He pointed to the crowd.

His palms groped the leather that concealed his huge package.

“Can you touch this?” Your friend threw a wad of cash at him, hitting him in the nipple. He stood unflinching.

“No, no, no.” He drew out each word.

“These are my laws.” Putting his hands on his hips, he rocked left to right, clicking his spurs.

“But I see a hell of a lot of lawbreakers here tonight.”

He shifted to walk around the chair placed behind him. He sat on it backward, legs spread to place his groin in the spotlight.

“And I don’t see a cop in sight.” He pointed at the DJ.

“Hit it!” Music blaring, he did his number. And boy, was the DJ right to warn you. Dante practically made sweet love to the chair, flipping his head back.

Hips circling and then pistoning the air, sweat trailed down his pecs.

You ended up throwing a few bills, hoping to avoid eye contact. It failed as he slid to his knees to the edge of the stage and crawled off the ledge onto your table. Like a preying tiger, he made his way over to you.

Thank god you had health insurance, your blood pressure was going off the charts.

Your friends lost their heads, throwing bills and screaming like banshees. But he wasn’t interested in them. His eyes preyed after your own, baby blues on an absolute beast.

“Wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, handsome?” He purred as he traced your jaw. Your skin jumped as you internally imploded. This was was too sensual and people were watching, for goodness sake!

“(Y/N), if you don’t agree I will cancel your Barnes and Noble membership.” Your friend threatened.

“Come on, spare this outlaw some sugar?” You didn’t have a moment to think. Dante threw his hat on your head and carried you onto the table and to the stage.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” You shrieked.

He ran hot. So hot. Your skin burned at contact with him, pressed up against his chest as he stood you in front of the chair he practically humped.

“Take a seat, sir.” You blushed at his sensual persona, not sure where the kind bartender and the suave cowboy started and ended.

Obediently, you turned the chair around and sat with your ankles crossed. Dante tutted in disapproval.

His hands lingered by your legs.

“May I?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, feeling his callused hands on your thighs. He firmly spread your legs and stood over you on the chair.

As if that wasn’t enough, his arm muscles bulged and twitched as he ripped off his leather chaps. He ripped the chaps. There were no zippers or velcro straps. That was all him!

Your face a hair’s width from his abs, he gently took your hands and traced his pecs with them. He growled and winked at you.

Despite the one-in-a-million situation you were in, you shrank at the many peering eyes of the other women and bar patrons. Your anxiety was seen by Dante, who tilted your head up.

“Hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. If you’re nervous, just give me a purple nurple or something, alright?” You laughed at his idea of a safe word and nodded.

“Okay, Dante.”

And like that, it was like you pulled a trigger. Dante grinded on your form and explored his peak-conditioned skin with your own hands.

You gasped as he led your hands down his front to his leather shorts. You couldn’t stop looking with widened eyes at his crotch. You had read erotica before, describing the male member in the throes of passion, yet this was the first time you had been this close to anything like those erotic novels.

It was obscene! Why did it seem to get larger? How was he allowed to carry that thing around without a license?!

“Hey, eyes up here.” He teased as you snapped your head up.

“O-oh! Sorry.” You whispered. Your blood had rushed to your head and you had grown deaf to your friends’ yells of validation.

“Grab him by the buns!” One of your friends yelled. Dante turned around to make eye contact with her.

With a grin, he slid your hands to the back. What he didn’t expect was you to squeeze.

“Whoa now, kitty.” He purred. You gave a watery smile.

Suddenly, a water bottle was thrown at his head. With lightning reflexes, he caught it after it bounced off of him.

“Hey! Stage times’ over, you fucking show pony.” A short-haired woman with mismatching eyes called out. Dante scoffed.

“Just givin’ a nice gentleman some lovin’.” He argued.

“No, get off the stage, Dante.”

“Five more minutes?”

“NOW.” He sighed. Getting off of your lap, he kissed your hand that was resting on his thigh. Lord, if you died right now, that’d be fine.

“Glad to have this dance.” He flirted.

“Y-you too.” Taking your hand, he took you for another surprise and swept you off your feet. You squeaked as he handed you to another dancer on the ground. The club-goers cheered as dancers arrived, dressed like businessmen with briefcases.

You were promptly seated, head dizzy from everything that just happened. You watched as he took his leave as if he didn’t just cause you to get feverish from how hot he was. Your friend hugged you.

“Nice work! You were so lucky!” Another friend plucked the hat off your head.

“Ah! He left his hat!” You exclaimed as you took it from her hands.

“A souvenir.”

For the rest of the night, you held onto the hat and traced the red stitching. You never saw Dante for the rest of the night, his brother in charge of the bar service.

Finally, before the last round of dancers, you were tapped on the shoulder. You found yourself staring into much harsher blue eyes.

One of your friends threw money at him, which he growled at.

“I am not an entertainer. Well, not right now.” He explained. He handed you a drink with a napkin on the bottom.

“My buffoon of a brother said to keep the hat. Although, I’m not sure why you would.”

“I-”

“The drink is on the house. Good evening with you all.”

He walked off, and you took your drink. You realized it was the same one you ordered when you got to the bar.

“Hey dude, take a look.” A well-manicured nail pointed to the napkin. You saw in red pen an arrow pointed to the folded corner.

You shakily opened it to reveal a series of numbers and words, along with a card that flitted onto the table.

Tonight was fun, wanna do it again? The card’s for a private dance, just call and ask for Dante Sparda. No crowds, only you and me. No Lady barking up my tree for appreciating beauty either - DS

A little heart with an arrow through its center was scrawled in a corner. You picked up the laminated card and saw it was for a free private dance. Your heart beat out of your chest.

Your friends laughed as you immediately stuck it in your pocket, along with the note. The club closed and you were all ushered out. The night was pitch black when you emerged from the debauchery that was the Devil May Cry strip club.

As your other wasted companions were stuffed into the car, you sat shotgun to the sober and designated driver.

You were silent the car ride home, laying your head against the window. You thought about that white-haired flirt’s remarks and how gentle he was to you.

Waving and embracing your wonderful friends, you left for your apartment with all your gifts. However, the little slips of paper in your pocket weighed the heaviest on your mind.

With your keys in your hand, you climbed up the stairs home.

After closing the door, you slid down the wall and let out a pleased sigh.

“Best birthday ever!” You said to no one in particular.

#amab reader #dante x reader #dante x male reader #devil may grind #devil may cry

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today-only-happens-once · 4 years

Text

(un)claimed

Title: unclaimed

Summary: Virgil is a demigod. The good news is that he is not alone. A Percy-Jackson!AU fic. Platonic/found-family DRLAMP dynamics.

Word Count: 4217

Warnings: some violence and weapons, Greek mythology, passing mention of curses, feelings of anxiety, some self-doubt and self-deprecation, parent issues (of course, it’s a pjo!AU), no Side is a bad guy but there’s some tension between Remus and Roman, I play a little loose with PJO timeline stuff woops, Janus has done some light antagonizing of the gods.

A/N: Honestly, it should surprise nobody that I wrote this. Heh. Just for fun to release the happy chemical in my brain. Not that deep or involved. Just a light little diddy. <3 Hope you enjoy! Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. No tags because it’s a fandom-specific AU, not because I don’t love y’all. <3

///

“See that tree on the hill?”

Virgil quirks an eyebrow at the boy beside him, taking in his bright orange t-shirt and the three beads on his leather necklace. He has what Virgil would swear was snake scales across the left side of his face. Janus, he had said his name was. (Like the god? Virgil had asked. No relation. Not unless Athena has some explaining to do, the boy had told him with a wry smile as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.)

He’d met Janus four hours ago in New York in Central Park after a very weird encounter with a cyclops. Though if he’s being honest, the cyclops had only been the most recent run-in with vicious creatures out of his mother’s old Greek myth anthology. He’d been ducking and dodging and outrunning them for nearly a year at this point. Janus had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliced the cyclops with a dagger and it vanished in a puff of gold dust.

Then Janus told him he knew a safe place to go. Perhaps he was an idiot, but Virgil had followed without much objection. The idea of a place that was safe was nearly too good to be true, but Janus had just dusted a cyclops. And Virgil figured there was at least some power in numbers, if nothing else.

Virgil follows where the other boy is pointing and sees a tall pine tree at the top of the steep hill. He nods.

“Go there. You’ll see a camp in the valley. Chiron will explain.”

“Chiron?”

“Yes. Activities director. You can trust him.”

“You’re not coming too?” Virgil looks at the boy beside him again. Janus is looking in the opposite direction of the tree back the way they’d come and he yanks the dagger out of his belt.

Janus’s mouth twitches. “We’ve got company. I will hold them off. The border is protected. You’ll be safe once you cross the tree line.”

Alarmed, Virgil looks over his shoulder and sees a winged creature in the distance. It looks almost a like a bat, if a bat could be the size of a human person. “What is that?!”

Janus gives a slight shove to Virgil’s shoulder. “Run, Virgil!”

“I can’t leave you behind—”

Janus mutters something that sounds foreign, and yet Virgil understands it. A curse word in… was that ancient Greek? Virgil isn’t given time to process it before Janus grabs Virgil’s arm and takes off at a sprint up the hill. Virgil stumbles but he manages to keep his feet under him as he takes off at a run for the looming pine. As they get closer, Virgil chances a glance over his shoulder. The winged creature is maybe twenty yards away. It’ll be on them any second.

Janus whistles sharply. “Hey! We got incoming!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, three other kids appear from near the tree. One of them notches an arrow in an honest-to-gods bow. He aims, then releases. Virgil watches, stunned, as the blow strikes true and the winged creature vanishes in a puff of gold dust that gets caught in the breeze.

Virgil rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. Janus, beside him, is breathing hard as well but he nods to the kid with the bow and arrow.

“Nice shot,” Virgil tells him.

The kid looks to be maybe a year older than Virgil, and is wearing a t-shirt that matches Janus’s. He’s also got a necklace of beads, though his has five of them. Virgil realizes that some of them match Janus’s, plus a few more. He slings the bow across his back and flashes Virgil a bright grin.

“Thanks! I’m Sloane.” He extends his hand.

“Virgil.” He shakes the kid’s hand.

Sloane nods to the other two kids that had materializes near him. One of them is a girl that looks a little younger than Virgil, maybe 14, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The other is a guy in a backwards baseball cap and a plaid shirt over the orange tee that looks about Sloane’s age. His necklace only has one bead on it.

“This is Valerie,” Sloane introduces. “She’s from Cabin 10. And this is Kai. He’s from Cabin 9.”

“Sloane,” Janus interrupts. “Where’s Chiron?”

Sloane jerks his head down the hill. “In the Big House with the lead counselors.”

Virgil watches Janus’s brow furrow. “Seems unusual. Did something happen?”

Valerie sighs. “Kind of. Dionysus gave one of his kids a quest. Counselors are meeting about the prophecy to see who is going.”

Janus’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Which one?”

“Jack. The prophecy mentions a death. That never bodes well, and kids aren’t exactly lining up to work for Mr. D.”

Janus hums thoughtfully, his eyes trailing over the crest of the hill. Virgil watches as he shoves the knife into his belt. Kai cocks his head slightly, studying Virgil closely. Then, he looks at Janus. “Has he been claimed?”

Virgil frowns. “Claimed?”

“No,” Janus tells Kai, then looks to Virgil. “Follow me. I’ll explain as we walk.”

Janus nods to the other three and Virgil follows him down to the valley below. From this vantage point, Virgil sees the cabins Janus has been talking about, forming something like a horseshoe shape. In front of it is a large building that Virgil assumes is the ‘Big House’ that Sloane had mentioned. He sees other buildings and structures, but decides to wait to ask about them.

People mill around, most of them wearing the orange t-shirt that has a winged horse and the words Camp Half-Blood printed on them. When they notice Virgil, most of them throw a curious glance to Janus. Janus doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood,” Janus says as they walk. “It’s one of the few safe spaces left for demigods like us.”

“Wait,” Virgil says, certain that he heard Janus incorrectly. “Demigod?”

Janus glances at him. “Hm. I gather you really don’t know very much. Yes, demigod. Half-god, half-mortal.”

“And you think I’m one of these, uh, half-bloods?” Virgil shakes his head. “Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Janus looks almost amused now, an eyebrow arching almost like a challenge. “You couldn’t have gotten across the border into camp if you weren’t. Let me guess… you have ADHD and dyslexia.”

“Wh—I mean, yes, but—”

“You were raised by either a single parent or no parent at all,” Janus continues.

“My mom, until—”

“You see things others either don’t see or don’t remember.”

“I—”

“Please. Do stop me if I’m wrong.”

Virgil falls silent, his chest a bit tight. He crosses his arms over his chest as they walk.

Janus waits for a beat before he elaborates, sounding like it’s a spiel he’s given a dozen times already. “The ADHD is the battle reflexes. Dyslexia is because your brain is wired for ancient Greek, not modern English.”

Virgil’s mind is reeling. “But—”

“The things you see are because you’re a demigod. You are able to see things as they are. Mortals—most mortals—get deceived by this thing called the Mist. Someday, with training, you’ll be able to manipulate it as well. It’s a useful skill.”

Virgil feels suddenly way too hot, and yet still has the sudden desire to pull the hood of his hoodie up over his hair. “Demigod,” he repeats, though saying it aloud doesn’t help it make sense. “Are… Are you telling me that my dad is a god? Like a Greek god? Zeus? Apollo? Those guys?”

Janus glances at him and looks, for a split second, almost apologetic. “I understand that it’s a lot to take in at once. This is why Chiron usually takes the initiation. He usually has a more, ah, sensitive means of broaching the subject. But since he’s meeting with the lead counselors, I’m afraid the responsibility falls to me.”

Virgil blinks. He can feel the pressure in his chest building and he forces himself to take a breath. It doesn’t help as much as he’d been hoping it would. “Which one?”

“Hm?”

“Which god is my dad?”

They’re passing in front of the Big House now. There’s two people standing on the front porch—a blonde girl holding a Yankees cap and a boy with a goatee leaning against the railing—seeming deep in conversation. The blonde girl offers Janus a small wave. Janus nods back.

“To your question, the answer is that we don’t know,” he says. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, your guess is as good as ours. But you might be claimed any minute now, or never claimed at all. I was claimed three days after arriving at camp by Athena. But we have several campers who haven’t been claimed at all. Remy Short is one such example.”

“Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy,” Virgil remembers. He’d read that name in his mother’s library when he was younger. And he has a vague memory from sixth grade social studies.

“Indeed,” Janus replies. They circle around the house and Virgil realizes that Janus is leading him towards the semi-circle of cabins. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, you’re designated to Cabin 11. Hermes’ cabin.”

“Janus!” A bright, cheerful voice calls from behind them. Janus stops and turns, and Virgil follows his gaze. A boy that looks about Virgil’s age, maybe a year older, is running towards them from the Big House. He’s got a flop of curly hair and big round glasses.

“Patton,” Janus greets as the boy slows to a stop near them. “Virgil, this is Patton. He’s the head of the Hermes cabin.”

Patton grins and holds out his hand. “Hi, Virgil. Welcome to Cabin 11. I’ll talk to Chiron about getting you some supplies—”

“I’ll talk to Chiron,” Janus interrupts as Virgil shakes Patton’s hand. “I need to ask him about some things anyway. Patton, could you—”

“For sure,” Patton agrees readily. “I’ll show Virgil around!”

Janus excuses himself and starts towards the Big House. Virgil rubs the back of his neck and offers Patton an awkward smile. Now that he’s closer, Virgil realizes that Patton is maybe an inch or so shorter than him. He’s got four beads on his necklace.

“How ya doing?” Patton asks him, startling him out of his thoughts. Virgil meets his eyes. Patton’s are a warm brown, and his smile is sympathetic. “I remember my first day at camp. It’s always overwhelming.”

Virgil huffs. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You’ll love it here,” Patton says with a surprising amount of confidence.

Virgil arcs a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t seem to, ah, stay in one place very long.”

“Kicked out of school?” Patton guesses. He starts walking around the cabins and Virgil follows, slipping his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah. Several times.”

“We all have,” Patton says, not unkindly. “That’s the best thing about camp. In the mortal world, we’re all labeled as weird or outcasts. But at camp? We’ve all been through it. Oh! This is Cabin 10. Aphrodite’s cabin.”

Patton walks Virgil around the semi-circle, explaining each cabin’s assigned deity. He adds that Cabins 1 through 3 are empty, though apparently there was a girl that used to be in Cabin 1—Zeus’s cabin—who joined the Hunters of Artemis and left camp. Cabin 2 was Hera’s, and since she didn’t have children, the cabin was mostly honorary. Cabin 3 usually had a kid in it, but he apparently was on some kind of recon mission and wouldn’t return for another day or two. Cabin 8—Aretmis’s cabin—is also, usually, empty except when the Hunters visit.

“Since you don’t know who your dad is, you get to bunk with us at the Hermes Cabin,” Patton explains. “We take all unclaimed kids, since Hermes is the god of travelers.”

“I thought he was the god of thieves,” Virgil says before he can think about it.

Patton smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that too. If you’ve got anything important, maybe keep it with ya. Just in case. I try to dissuade stealing, but old habits die hard for some of these kiddos.”

Patton leads him around the camp, pointing out the strawberry fields, the armory, and the forge that mostly gets used by the Hephaestus kids. A few of them wave at Patton, who eagerly waves back and calls a few of them by name. He shows Virgil the arena, where two kids are sparring. Patton takes a seat and Virgil sits beside him, watching the two boys circle each other.

Both of them are wearing matching orange t-shirts—Patton had told him that he’d be getting one too—and some armor. One of them has dark hair and square glasses. He’s got two knives, one in each hand, and even from a bit of distance Virgil can sees the slight sheen of sweat to his forehead. The other one’s hair is a couple of shades lighter. His sleeves are rolled up and he wields a sword and a shield.

“The one with the glasses is Logan,” Patton explains. “He’s a child of Athena. The other one is Roman. He’s a child of Apollo. I met both of them in Seattle before we made our way to camp together thanks to some help from a satyr.”

“All three of you have been claimed?” Virgil asks, watching as Roman charges at Logan who rolls out of the way and then nimbly jumps back up to his feet. He slashes at Roman’s back but Roman parries the blow with a well-timed flick of the sword.

“Not immediately,” Patton says. “Logan was claimed as soon as we got to camp, but it was a month or so for me. And Roman was nearly a year before Apollo claimed him during a campfire song. It certainly surprised a lot of people.”

“Why?”

“His brother was claimed by Ares three months before him, so most people thought Roman was Ares’ kid too.”

Virgil glances at Patton. “Roman has a brother?”

Patton’s mouth presses into a thin line for a moment, and Virgil gets the sense that it’s a touchy subject. “Yeah. Remus. It’s unusual for two kids of the same family to both be demigods, and the fact that their father are two different gods led to some… tension. Roman and Remus don’t exactly get along.”

Virgil nods his understanding and turns his attention back to the sparring pair. Roman blocks a quick slash from Logan with his shield and swipes at him with the sword, but Logan parries the blow with the other knife in his hands. Then in a series of quick movements—Virgil isn’t sure how it happens, exactly—Roman is flat on his back and Logan is on his chest with the knife to his throat.

Roman says something that Virgil can’t make out, and Logan says something in kind before he climbs off Roman and helps him up. Roman flashes a grin and shoves Logan’s shoulder before he glances past his sparring match and sees Patton and Virgil sitting on one of the benches.

Roman waves. “Heya, Padre!”

Logan glances over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow at Virgil but stores his daggers as Roman jogs over. Patton stands and Virgil follows him down to meet Roman halfway.

“Hey, Roman,” Patton replies. “I didn’t know you started using a sword!”

Roman grabs a towel off a nearby bench and mops the sweat off his forehead. “It’s new. I’m still trying to get used to it. I think the balance is off.”

“The balance is fine,” Logan quips, stepping up beside him. “You just need more practice.”

Roman rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Either way, Specs. I’ll take archery any day over waving a sharp stick around.”

“You are definitely a son of Apollo,” Logan rejoins back without malice. “And it would be unwise to only be versed in ranged attack.”

“And you are definitely a son of Athena.”

“Correct.”

Virgil snorts, and then a part of him regrets it as Roman and Logan both look over at him. Virgil flushes slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but Patton seems to only perk up more.

“Oh! Sorry, this is Virgil. He’s a new camper. Janus ran into him on his way back and brought him along.”

“Which cabin?” Logan asks.

Virgil shrugs. “For now, Cabin 11, I guess.”

“Unclaimed, then.” Virgil listens for the judgement in Logan’s voice, but he doesn’t hear it. It sounds more like a flat statement of fact, as if reporting the weather. Logan nods once. “Very well.”

“I was just showing him around,” Patton supplies. “You guys wanna join?”

Logan starts shrugging out of the armor he’s wearing. “Regrettably, I said that I would assist Harley with some blueprints when I had finished sparring with Roman.”

Roman slides the sword into the scabbard at his side. “And I’m overdue for a Pegasus lesson. I can’t miss it again. The last thing I need is Mr. D giving me another earful.” Roman gives a quick two-finger salute and rushes out of the arena.

Virgil blinks at Patton. “Pegasus?”

Patton grins brightly. “Come on. I’ll show ya.”

…

Patton spends the rest of the afternoon showing Virgil around the camp. They go to the stables (where Roman offers to take Virgil for a ride but Virgil immediately declines because he’s never been a fan of flying). They swing by the beach on their way to the climbing wall. Virgil watches, amazed, as two kids climb with impressive speed and narrowly avoid the magma that starts to pour down it.

One of the kids has a Morningstar gripped between his teeth, a green bandana around his upper bicep and a matching one around his head. He’s fast, scaling the wall with a well-practiced ease. Virgil hears him laugh delightedly when his hand slips and he almost gets burned by the lava. It’s somehow both impressive and disconcerting.

“That would be Remus.”

“That’s Remus?” Virgil repeats, though when he looks a bit closer he sees the similarity in hair color and skin complexion. “I guess I see the resemblance.”

“Don’t tell Roman that,” Patton says lightly. “C’mon.”

They pass the amphitheater where, apparently, there would be a bonfire tonight. Patton shows him the volleyball court where four kids are playing one another. They wave at Patton as they pass.

“You seem popular,” Virgil supplies. He’s lost track of how many kids have waved at them as they walk around.

Patton lifts a shoulder modestly. “I dunno. Since Hermes is the catch-all cabin, a lot of camp knows me since they come to our cabin if they haven’t been claimed yet. Sometimes we get kids that get claimed right away, or kids that already have been claimed, but otherwise? I get to be their lead counselor for at least a little bit.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“I kind of like it,” Patton admits with a smile. “It’s like I’m everyone’s honorary camp dad.”

The conversation cuts out as dinner is called and they head to the mess hall. Patton explains the offering to the gods prior to the meal, and Virgil scrapes part of his plate into the fire. He doesn’t know what to ask for.

It’d be nice to have a family again, dad, he thinks, unsure of who he should even direct the comment to. Patton waves him over, offering a seat beside him.

Virgil chances a glance around the mess hall as they eat. The Hermes table is certainly the most crowded, though Virgil can’t say he finds that surprising. Athena’s table has several kids reading while eating. Two kids at the Ares table are in the middle of an arm-wrestling competition. One kid at the Hephaestus table is pouring over a blueprint, and Virgil wonders if that was the Harley kid that Logan had mentioned.

Towards the end of the meal, a few kids at the Apollo table starts singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” and it’s not long before most of their table is doing the entire song with harmony. Someone from the Demeter table tells them to ‘save it for the campfire’, but it does nothing to deter the Apollo kids. Virgil catches Roman laughing as he sings, one of his sibling’s arms slung around his shoulders.

Virgil glances over and sees Logan at the Athena table sitting next to Janus, watching the chaos unfold and the faintest quirk of his lips betray his amusement.

Virgil feels some of the tension in his chest relax just a little.

…

The bonfire starts around dusk. Virgil is making his way to the amphitheater from dropping supplies off at the cabin when Roman comes up from behind him and loops his arm through Virgil’s, chattering excitedly about how much he loved this part of camp. Virgil sees an ukulele case slung around his shoulder.

Logan appears a second later on the other side of Virgil, commenting dryly that the Apollo kids had done their vocal warm-ups during the dinner. This only served to lead Roman to do actual vocal warm-ups—trills and scales, specifically—as they walked. Patton and Janus were already sitting down, three rows back. Patton waves when he sees them file in. Remus is sitting beside Janus, seemingly trying to goad him into some kind of competition that he was having no interest in. The firelight glints of Janus’s scales.

“Hey,” Virgil says to Roman and Logan. “Can… I ask what happened to Janus?” He immediately regrets the question, cursing his lack of a filter, but neither of the other boys seem perturbed by the question.

“A curse from Aphrodite,” Logan answers. “Janus had gone on a quest for our mother, and it led to some… unsavory tension between himself and Aphrodite. From what he’s told me, he accused Ares of being a snake in the grass while in the presence of Aphrodite, and… well. The love goddess didn’t take kindly to that. But it’s purely cosmetic.”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. “Remus seems chill with him.”

“I’m not sure that Remus is aware of the accusation Janus leveled at his father,” Logan muses. “And Janus is not one to hold the children accountable for the actions of their godly parent.”

“It doesn’t benefit him,” Roman adds in, using his free hand for air quotes. “Or something like that. Janus is all about himself and how he can improve his own standing.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Logan quips dryly.

Roman scoffs, but when Virgil looks at him, there’s a teasing glint to his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say it, but you guys are half-brothers for a reason.”

Logan looks at Roman over the top of his glasses, but Roman just shoots him a cheeky smile as they approach the other three. Virgil slides into the seat beside Patton, followed by Logan and then Roman. There’s a few kids—Virgil isn’t sure what cabin they’re from—trying to lead a call-and-response chant as campers file in. Down the row, Remus enthusiastically calls out the responses at the top of his lungs.

“Roman!” A new voice calls out from the end of their row. A tall guy, a couple of years older than them, is holding a ukulele and jerking his head down towards the bonfire. “You ready to help me kick this thing off?”

Roman grins and jumps up. “Would be an honor, Thomas.” He rushes off and he and Thomas start playing a song together with practiced ease. He and the other Apollo kids start singing, and before long the vast majority of campers are joining in. A few of them, including Patton, sway a little. Virgil doesn’t sing, but he listens and tries to remember the words.

The sky grows dark. The Apollo kids eventually cede the floor to some Ares kids who start up another chant. More songs are sung, some snacks get passed around, and Virgil is starting to think that maybe, with time, he could get used to this.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Patton says beside him, as the next song starts. He drops something into Virgil’s lap. “I got this for ya.”

Virgil looks down. It’s two camp t-shirts. The black winged horse and the Camp Half-Blood print stares up at him. He looks over at Patton.

Patton just smiles. “Claimed or not, you’re one of us. We claim you.”

Virgil feels like maybe that’s good enough for him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #platonic drlamp #virgil sanders #percy jackson au #pjo!au #fighting #weapons #violence #found family? in my fics? its more likely than you think #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders

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panda-noosh · 4 years

Text

the normal one {Leo Valdez x Reader}

Words: 14k

Summary: Your sister is the demigod. You’re just the unlucky one who got dragged into her mess.

Genre: angst??

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - omg happy first day of nano y’all.

---

You never knew your sister was a demigod.

Of course you didn't; it's not the kind of thought that crosses the mind of a logical individual, though it seems obvious now that you're being greeted with the proof.

Emma has never been particularly normal. She's three years older than you, and yet she carries herself like she's been through years upon years of unforgiven trauma, glaring at anyone who dares even speak to her. You used to just describe her as grumpy, not-a-morning-person, just leave her alone and you'll be fine.

Now, you're beginning to think it might not be as simple as all that.

Your day starts off pretty normal; you wake up, greeted by the sunlight streaming through the curtains you once again forgot to close over the previous night. You look down, not surprised to see you're still dressed in a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose white shirt instead of the pyjamas your sister has been trying so desperately to make you wear at night. You got ready, brushing the knots from your hair before marching downstairs.

Your mum is in the kitchen, whistling to herself, frail hands forever trembling around the pot of boiling oatmeal; you and your mum don't really talk that much. She favours Emma over you, and she's never found much point in wasting breath on the child she doesn't necessarily like. She'll smile, feed you, let you have a roof over your head, but neither of you pretend like your relationship with each other is permanent. One day you're going to move out, and your mum is never going to contact you, never going to step foot in your house, never going to give you a house-warming gift.

You're fine with that.

Emma is sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. It's not even that weird of a sight, considering you've always known Emma to be into the dramatics. You sit across from her, folding your arms over the table before whispering, rather loudly, "Rough night?"

Her head jerks up, revealing her wild, bloodshot eyes. "What?"

You laugh, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the centre of the table. "You look like shit, Em. Where have you been all night?"

Her jaw twitches, and she doesn't respond, which is a pretty normal reply for her, especially at this time of day.

"Whatever," you mumble. "Can I borrow that fancy deodorant you bought back from that summer camp you go to?" Emma nods. You grin, banishing the conversation all together as you stand and skip upstairs.

So, yeah. The day was starting off pretty normal. Not a single worry in sight. You would go to school, mope around classes for a few hours, come home and stress eat over a pile of unfinished homework that was probably due multiple days ago.

Instead, you have to deal with the boulders being thrown through Emma's bedroom window.

The first one hits just as your grabbing Emma's fancy deodorant from her bottom drawer. There is no warning, no low whoosh sound that would give you a chance to step away and make a run for it - no. Instead, it goes straight to the shattered glass and bloodied arms. Instead, it goes straight to the boulder smashing against your hand, crushing your fingers against the wall.

You are stuck, legs crumbling beneath you. You should be slipping to the floor right now, probably unconscious, maybe dead, but your hand, trapped between the biggest rock known to man and the wall, keeps you upright. Blood leaks from gashes forming on your fingers, dribbling down your wrist, your arm, dripping onto your knees. You stare at the scene in shock for a moment, unable to register what on earth has actually just happened.

And then Emma is screaming your name, thundering up the stairs, and you're crying out, trying to form words but they get lodged in your throat, replaced by the overwhelming pain and realisation that you're going to die, you're going to fucking die on your sisters bedroom floor because there is so much blood, and there is no way in hell you won't be drained before the end of this day, probably within the next ten minutes, probably within-

The door opens. Emma barrels inside, wielding a golden sword that honestly just makes you think of course she has a golden sword.

"You son of a bitch!" she cries out, darting to her bedroom window. She stands upon the sill and waves her arms at the sky. "You got the wrong L/N, you idiot! Get back here and finish me off if you're so tough!"

"Emma," you croak, tears flooding down your cheeks. "Little help here."

"It's the giants." She leaps off the window sill and swivels round, darting to your side. Something has changed in her, something you've never seen before; she seems stronger, her eyes a little brighter yet still eerily dark at the same time.

She crouches beside you and begins manoeuvring your trapped hand back and forth. You hiss, throwing your head back as blood spurts down your arm, staining your shirt. Emma grits her teeth, keeping her eyes peeled on her work. "They've found me," she continues muttering. "We need to get out of here - all of us. You, me, Mum. They know where the house is. How did they find out where the bloody house is?"

"Can you shut the fuck up talking crazy for one second?"

Emma pays you no mind, taking a tiny knife from her back pocket and wriggling it between the wall and the boulder. "I'll have to get in touch with Chiron, tell him I'm bringing a few mortals with me to camp this summer."

You grunt. "I'm not going to some hippy-Christian summer camp with you."

"It's not a hippy-Christian summer camp." Emma swats your head, forcing you to look away from the blood dribbling down your arm. "It's a place that will keep you safe, alright? So don't argue."

"Don't tell me what to - AH!" The boulder falls, crashing to the floor. Tables rattle, things tumble off shelves, and your hand is freed. You pull it to your chest, but Emma doesn't let it go unaided for long - she grabs your wrist and tugs it back, examining the damage; your nerves have clearly been ripped, fingers cold from lack of feeling. Gashes have been made into the back of your hand, fingers torn to shreds.

She shakes her head. "I'll get Will to have a look at this."

"No, you idiot, you'll call 999 before-"

"We have to go now. That giant will be back soon enough, especially once he realises I'm taking you guys with me." Emma doesn't even give you a chance to respond before she's grabbing your good hand and dragging you from her bedroom. You hiss in pain, stumbling behind her, but there's really no point in arguing. When Emma has her mind set on something, she goes for it no matter what objections people put in place. Mum always said she gets that from her dad, but you've never met the man, so you wouldn't know.

Speaking of your dear old mother, the woman doesn't even give you a second glance when Emma drags you into the living room and shoves you onto the sofa next to her; she's frozen in fear, fingers pulled to her lips as she bites on the nails, a habit she's had for as long as you can remember.

She shakes her head, dazed. "He's coming back to me. He's sending signs."

Emma groans. Looking over, you see her with a phone pressed to her ear, big and bulky with an oversized antennae peeking from the top of it. "Mum, that wasn't Dad sending signs. That was a giant trying to kill me."

You blink, certain your blood loss is contributing to this wild conversation somehow. "A giant? Your dad?"

Emma raises a finger, telling you to be quiet. Mum whimpers at the movement and goes back to chewing her nails, gazing steadily out the window. She looks terrified, but her knee is bouncing in that way it always does when she's excited. You've given up trying to understand her. In fact, you've given up trying to understand your entire family.

So you just sit there, trying to fight off the black spots dotting your vision and the blood dribbling through your fingers; you don't know why Emma hasn't called 999 yet, considering you're basically on the verge of unconsciousness, but your throat is too dry to ask. Instead you listen as she says, "Leo! Where are you? Are you close?" and then she sighs in relief, and within three minutes, there's a knock on the door and she's barrelling out of the living room to grab it.

You look up, dazed, when she returns with a small curly haired boy in tow. He's a bit scruffy, you have to admit, but in a cute way, like a bunny with a bit of dirt on its nose.

"Not really the time for guests, is it, Em?" you grumble, before falling face first into the floor.

---

You wake up, and immediately wish you hadn't.

Emma always messes things up - always.

Her life has to be so damn dramatic all the damn time, and you're getting pretty damn sick of being dragged into it. All you want to do is sit in bed with a nice blanket and a cup of tea, maybe practice a bit of witchcraft, maybe sink into the dirt and become one with nature.

You don't want to be hunted down by rabid, murderous giants, that's for sure.

You also don't want to be trapped in a hospital bed at some hippy-Christian camp you don't even know the name of. But that's exactly what has happened.

When you open your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of white, cloth walls and multiple eager faces gazing down at you. Most of them have blonde hair and the brightest eyes you have ever seen, and then there's that curly haired boy, and Emma herself, and there's a guy who is half horse-

"Oh god, this is death. I've died."

"She's awake!" the curly haired boy - Leo, you remember - cries, throwing his hands in the air. "Good job, Apollo kids! Another point for you!"

"Shut up, Leo." One of the many blonde haired kids steps forward and places the back of his hand against your forehead; in any other situation, you might have pulled away and told him to step back, but the feel of his skin against your own is surprisingly soothing. It's almost against your will when you melt into it, eyes gliding shut. Your hit with images of you and Emma as children, running through fields, her punching that guy in the nose because he called you short that one time, and-

He snatches his hand back, startling you back to reality. "The fevers definitely going down," he says, turning to Emma.

"Uh, excuse me," you chirp, raising a timid hand. "She's not my legal guardian, I'll have you know." You glance at Emma. "Where is my legal guardian, by the way?"

Emma rolls her eyes, and that's answer enough.

"Ah. Frollicking in the leaves again?"

Emma hums. "I left her to it; we have bigger things to worry about than her love life."

"That's a bit morbid, Emma," says Leo. "Love is a magnificent thing."

"So is me not dying," you say, before turning back to the blonde haired boy. "Can I leave?"

The boy blinks, staring at you like you have two heads. It almost makes you uncomfortable, but his eyes are so pretty, and the way his palm felt against your forehead-

Leo shoves to the front. "Will here is gay, Y/N. Stop staring."

You look away, flustered. "I wasn't even staring."

"Yeah, you were. I see that look of lust on people all the time - I get it a lot, to tell you the truth."

You look at his curls, the oil on his tattered overalls, the dirt smothering both his cheeks, nose and hands.

"I'm sure you do, big guy. I'm sure you do."

Will sighs, shoving Leo out the way again. "I'm gonna do a final check up before I let you leave; I can't give mortals any nectar or ambrosia, so the healing process might take-"

Awkwardly, Emma coughs. The entire tent goes silent, turning to her with raised brows and narrowed eyes, but all you can focus on is Will's strange choice of vocabulary. Nectar. Ambrosia. Those don't sound like common prescription pain meds.

"Emma..." Will drawls. "What have you-"

"I'll talk to them," Emma mumbles. "Can you guys just give us a minute?"

You grab Will's hand. "Please don't leave me alone with her."

Will gives you a timid smile, squeezing your hand gently before he, Leo and all the other blonde haired strangers exit the tent, leaving just you and Emma to your own devices.

And honestly, Emma's your best friend. She means the world to you. She's the one person in that god forsaken house that actually pays you any attention, and it doesn't even matter that she's the favourite, that Mum basically licks the ground she walks on for a reason you have yet to pinpoint. You love Emma with all your heart, but right now, you would rather be anywhere but in her presence.

You pull the quilt up to your chin and say, "I'm very confused."

Emma pulls a stool over and takes a seat. "I know. I should have explained. I need to explain."

"Yes, you do."

She hollows out her cheeks, which only makes your fear spike - you've never seen Emma act like this. She's usually so brave, bold, confident. She doesn't do a single thing without planning it out perfectly beforehand, and yet here she is, looking completely stumped. You almost feel bad for her until you remember the way she completely ignored your pleas for her to call 999 when you were fairly certain you were bleeding out.

"Well?" you push. "Go on, Em. I'm listening."

Emma sighs, scrubbing a hand down her face. "Do you have any idea where we are right now?"

"Absolutely none. There was a guy with a horse body-"

"That's Chiron. He's a centaur."

You blink. "Okay."

"This place is called Camp Half-Blood; it's where I go to every summer."

"Well, I assumed."

"It's a camp for Half-Bloods. Demigods. People who are half-god, like. . . like me. Like Leo, and Will, and probably loads of other kids, too."

It's starting to get jumbled now, a string of words that don't form to make a coherent, sensible sentence.

You don't even respond, simply staring at Emma until she is forced to continue.

"It sounds insane, I know, but I'm not lying. I'm a demigod, Y/N, daughter of Ares."

It goes silent, because of course it does. What are you even meant to say to that? The logical part of you says to just call her out on her lies, ask her where the hell you actually are and where Mum is and why she brought you here in the first place. But the other half recognises that Emma being the daughter of a war god kind of makes perfect sense.

In your conflicted state of disbelief, you say neither of those things. Instead, you look at Emma and say, "Mum hooked up with a god?"

Emma breathes a laugh, closing her eyes. "Yes, little one, she did."

"And she couldn't have done the same thing when she was conceiving me?"

Emma winces. "I don't want to talk about Mum conceiving either of us, thank you very much."

You shake your head. "So that's why she's always hated me."

"Mum doesn't hate you-"

"I'm the repair kid. I'm the one who-"

Leo pops his head in the door. "Did someone say repair kid?"

Emma looks up, giving Leo a tired little wave. "You can come back in now. Y/N's all caught up."

"Oh, happy days!" Leo marches in and reaches for your good hand, giving it a vigorous shake. "Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus. Nice to properly meet you."

"Y/N L/N, child of - uh - that guy from McDonalds.

Emma stands up quickly, grabbing Leo's shoulders as his eyes narrow. "Alright! Now that we've got the niceties out of the way, I think it's time we let Will back in here so he can do his final check up. Sound good?"

"Sounds fantastic," you mumble, sinking down into the pillows. "Bring the nice looking blonde boy to me now, please."

----

Camp Half-Blood kind of looks like a dream scape. But a really bad one.

A nightmare-scape.

There's sword fighting, and teeny tiny girls in green dresses that get wildly offended when you call them Tinkerbell. There's people riding around on winged horses like it's no big deal, and you're almost certain it was raining when you left the house earlier, so why is it sunny and warm right now?

Leo is the one who greets you when you're finally allowed to step out of the tent - the infirmary, apparently, run by the kids of Apollo. All of them were really nice. They all had really nice hands.

"You're looking fresh," Leo says, tucking his hands in his pockets as the two of you stroll across camp together. "Will and his siblings really know what they're doing, huh? I had my doubts, with you being a mortal and all. I don't know how often they work on people like you."

You shrug. "It was just a bit of nerve damage in my hand."

"You passed out."

"I blanked. It happens to the best of us."

Leo's lips twitch. It shows you just the briefest hint of dimples, and you hate that it immediately turns your tough-guy demeanour to mush. It seems like you have a soft spot for demigods. You look away quickly, tucking your hands - bandage and all - into your pockets. It's this movement that seems to tilt Leo's attention to the clothes you're wearing, all of which are smothered in your own blood.

Pleasant.

He grimaces, stopping dead in his tracks. You would continue walking, being an independent mortal and all that, but you don't know your way around this place, and you'd rather not accidentally walk into a fighting arena. So, you stop and look back at him. "What's wrong?"

"You need a change of clothes, my friend."

You blink. "No, I don't think-"

"They might be a bit big on you, but I have the perfect pair of overalls you could borrow. Come on. To Bunker 9 we go."

He starts walking away before you even have a chance to protest. It really puts the fear of god - gods? - in you, because at that very moment, a winged horse slams into the floor at your side. You squeal, immediately sprinting after him, and the bastard doesn't even turn back to look at what has just startled you. He merely grins, cocky and annoying, and says, "Yeah, stick with me and that won't happen."

You grunt, knowing he's right.

The two of you arrive at Bunker 9 in no time. It's like an old bomb shelter, with tin walls and a door that looks like it's about to fall off it's hinges. You make a joke about why Leo can't just fix the hinges, considering he's a machine expert and all that, and Leo rolls his eyes and says, "I'm busy enough as it is."

The room lights up without a switch needing to be flipped, which you think is pretty cool.

"My school used to have lights like that," you point out, gazing up at the ceiling. "They were motion censored."

"Mm. They're handy little things until you haven't moved in fifteen minutes and they switch off whilst you're still standing there. The amount of times I've nearly put a screw through my finger." He shakes his head, tossing aside discarded tools in his search for the overalls he promised you. "Mental."

You pluck at a random copper wire hanging out of a drawer. "So, is this like. . . your dorm room?"

"Hm?" Leo looks at you. "Oh, no. I don't sleep in here - I sleep in the Hephaestus cabin. I'm the head counsellor, so I have to keep an eye on things, you know."

You raise a brow. "Is your bed more comfy in the Hephaestus cabin?"

"That, too." He blushes, lowering his eyes back to his search. "But honestly, my job is pretty important. I've got to keep that place running, keep all my siblings in check."

"I'm not being funny, if Emma tried telling me what to do, I would tell her to piss off."

Leo scoffs. "Yeah, I got that vibe off you."

"So how do you do it?"

Leo pauses, glancing over his shoulder."How do I do what?"

You push yourself up onto the counter, ignoring the saw dust that now litters your hands and the back of your already ruined jeans. "How do you get them to listen to you? You don't look to be much older than I am - surely you have older siblings in that cabin of yours. It can't be easy getting them to fall into line, too."

Slowly, Leo turns. He leans against the chest of drawers he has been digging through, regarding you with a single raised brow. His gaze is hard, but you keep the eye contact, smiling just the tiniest bit.

He doesn't respond with words. Instead, he stretches his hand out, palm towards the ceiling, and uncurls his fingers, revealing a bright orange flame dancing in the centre. It doesn't make you jump as it probably should have; instead, you are mesmerised, caught in the slick movements of the tiny ball of fire.

You slowly reach out. Leo slams his hand closed and pulls back. "You can't touch it."

"I wasn't going to."

"You were fully going to touch it."

You scowl, folding your arms over your chest. "What was the point in showing me that?"

He turns on his heel, going back to digging through the chest of drawers. "That's why I'm head counsellor - no other child of Hephaestus can do that." He glances at you. "You don't think it's weird?"

"Well, yeah - very weird." You shrug. "But who am I to judge? I can do this thing where I dislocate my shoulder, and that's pretty weird, too."

Leo blinks, mouth opening like you've caught him off guard. He swipes his tongue along his lower lip before he turns away and mumbles, "Yeah. That is pretty weird."

Bunker 9 is doused in silence after that. Leo rummages through his drawers as you inspect every nook and cranny of the place, running your fingers along the tin walls, picking up tools you have never seen before; you can feel Leo watching you from the corner of his eye, probably making sure you're not stealing anything. Honestly, the golden screwdriver set is pretty tempting, but you wouldn't want to risk getting on a demigod's bad side.

Finally, after what feels like far too long, Leo pops his head up, grinning broadly with a set of overalls in his hands. "Found them!" He tosses them at you with no warning; you just barely manage to catch them. "They got shrunk in the wash, so I was gonna rip them up for hand towels in here, but I'm sure they'll be more useful for you."

You pull them into your chest. "They smell like oil."

Leo spreads his oil stained hands. "Yeah, well, that's how life is, love. I'll let you get changed - I promise I won't peak!"

Laughing, he leaves Bunker 9; his footsteps stop there, though, and there's a glimmer of relief when you realise he isn't just walking away and leaving you to your own devices.

You get changed quickly, bundling your blood stained clothes into a ball and shoving them beneath your arm - you don't know where you can possibly wash them, but you refuse to leave this camp in Leo's old overalls. First of all, they're much too big on you, pooling over your feet despite Leo's own small stature. The striped shirt he gave you to put underneath it has oil spots embedded in it, too, which just makes you look like even more of a slump. Nonetheless, you throw open the door to Bunker 9 with your arms outstretched and call out, "How do I look?"

Leo peaks his head around and freezes.

You drop your arms, rolling your eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. This isn't a romance movie."

His nose erupts into flames. He yelps, swatting the fire away before he awkwardly coughs and says, "Good. You look good."

You grin. "Thank you. Do you have any idea where I can put these?" You offer up your pile of clothes. Leo takes them from your hands and tosses them over your shoulder, back into Bunker 9. You frown. "Do you have a washing machine in there?"

"It won't take me long to rig one up. I'll have them washed before you leave, don't worry." He offers his arm, grinning yet again. "Now, how about we go up to the dining pavilion and get some food? I'm starving!"

----

Leo did not know one of his best friends was related to such an attractive individual.

It wasn't really that big of a shock when he walked in and saw you sitting there in the living room, looking dazed and out of it with blood dribbling from some pretty severe cuts in your hand. Emma had rang him and filled him on all the details, so there was no surprise at the scene. And plus, Emma's not exactly ugly. She has that rough look to her, sure, but Leo would probably date her if she asked him. Again, it wasn't much of a surprise when he walked in and saw you there, all pretty with the innocence only a mortal could have.

But then he got a glimpse of your personality.

No. Scratch that. He got an entire bucketload of your personality, and he was still craving more by the end of it.

He tried his hardest to fight off these feelings, because he's felt them before - with almost every person he finds attractive, in fact. He gets it lodged in his head that he can impress them, that this is the one and he can make it work if he just tries hard enough. It's kind of hard not to think that way - hopeful, desperate, almost - when all his friends are hooking up and getting boyfriends and girlfriends, generally just having the time of their damn lives. And Leo is just. . . making machines.

But then the two of you went and had dinner together, and he found himself asking if you wanted to go for a walk along the lake before you would have to go to bed. You had agreed, and the conversation had continued, and Leo has never laughed so much in his entire life.

You tell stories of these little memories you have with Emma, enjoying the embarrassing little details you add in whenever you can. Leo struggles to imagine the daughter of Ares being anything close to the Emma you're describing, but he can tell in the passion of your words you're not telling lies.

"What about you, though?" he asks.

Your hands drop to your side, smile curving. "What about me?"

"Well, you're going on about Emma and all the cool stuff she used to do - what about you, though? What have you been up to?"

It's a pretty simple question in Leo's mind; with his ADHD brain, he is able to come up with a million different answers on the spot.

You, however, look at him with a raised brow. He stares right back.

Finally, you crack and say, "Uh. . . I've been doing some school work, I guess."

Leo blinks. "You go to school?"

"I do indeed. I'm studying psychology, but it's really difficult, so I might drop it."

Leo nods like he understands, even though he doesn't. All he really remembers of his school days is him sitting in the back of the classroom plotting his next escape. "Interesting," he says. "Does Emma go to school?"

"She's doing an apprenticeship at some mechanics place. She dropped out when she turned sixteen."

"Naughty."

You shrug. "She does what she wants. I would love to drop out, but Mum would flip." Leo glances at you; the mention of your Mum seems to be something a little heavy, as your smile immediately dips, your shoulders slumping. Leo knows he probably shouldn't pry, but he's Leo, so he does anyway.

"Is your mum tough on you?"

"No. She's not tough at all. She's not light, either. She just. . . lives with me, I guess."

"She just lives with you?"

You inhale, looking out over the lake. For a moment, Leo thinks you might start crying, but then he shakes that thought out of his mind, because you don't seem like the type to cry in front of a stranger, and that's really all Leo is, which is why he shouldn't expect you to open up to him right now, not if this is something you don't want to-

"Mum only had me because she wanted to see if she could get over Emma's dad." You wince. "Ares, I guess."

Leo pauses. His fingertips start glowing, a sign of his anger, but he shoves them in his pockets and dispels the flames before you see them. "That's horrible."

You shrug halfheartedly. "It's fine. She was crazy about the guy from what I've heard - it's why Emma's her favourite. She's the only piece of him she has left, really."

"But that doesn't mean-"

"You don't have to tell me she's a bad mother, Leo. I know. I've known from day one; I've just gotten used to it." You pick up a rock and toss it into the lake. "Honestly, we're better off out of each other's hair anyway; put us in a room together and make us talk, we'll probably burn the house down."

Leo doesn't know how to respond; he's never felt like that. Ever. Even with his dad, there's always been some level of affection there, even though his dad is a Greek god who only pops in when he wants something; Hephaestus has never straight-up ignored him, never made his favouritism clear.

Leo finds he wants to punch something, and not even the steady whisper of the lake can calm him down. He walks a little bit behind you as the silence settles, you picking up random rocks and tossing them into the water, apologising profusely when the eighteen tentacled octopus pokes its head up and yells at you.

Your calmness makes it even worse, though, because that lets Leo know that this treatment is something you've grown used to. You've never known any different.

----

Three days in, and Emma still insists on keeping you at Camp Half-Blood.

"You're not leaving until that giant is dead, and that might take a while."

You drape your arm over your forehead, still sprawled across her bed in the Ares cabin. It's a pretty musty cabin, to be fair, but you won't mention that when all of Emma's siblings are glaring daggers at you. "Do you have any idea how many assessments I'm missing? Mr Wrightchuck is gonna be furious with me, and I do not have the mental energy to deal with his shit right now."

Emma throws a pair of shorts at you. "Shut up and fold those for me."

You grunt, sitting up and getting to work; you've decided to make yourself at least a little bit useful around here. These people were nice enough to offer you accommodation, even though it's clear being around mortals isn't exactly their everyday routine. The amount of times you've hissed in pain because of your hand and been offered a chunk of ambrosia is uncountable.

"So," Emma starts suddenly, taking you by surprise; she hardly ever initiates conversations, preferring to brood in her own head when she can get away with it.

You look at her, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the bright pink laundry hamper she stole off your Aunt Grace. She's not even looking up, lips pursed, eyebrows raised as if expecting you to fill in the blanks from that single word.

"So, what?" you push. "What did I just say, Emma? I don't have the mental energy-"

"You and Leo have been hanging out an awful lot these past few days."

You pause. That certainly wasn't what you had been expecting to hear.

"Uh. . . I suppose. He's a cool guy. Cool fire, and stuff." You wriggle your fingers, imitating flames, though Emma's sideways glare makes you mumble an apology and drop your hand to your side. "Is there something wrong with Leo and I being pals?"

"Leo's a very. . . hopeful boy," Emma replies. "He tends to get lost in his own fantasies sometimes."

You blink. "What, like kinks?"

Emma groans, throwing some socks at you. "No, you idiot! When he likes someone, he tends to get a little carried away. It's quite sad to see, actually."

"What does that have to do with me and him being friends?"

Emma glances at you; you recognise that look. It makes your stomach curl, heat rising to your cheeks. You look away, coughing awkwardly into her shirt before you mumble, "No. No, absolutely not. Leo doesn't like me that way."

Emma shrugs, grin spreading across her face. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm just saying, if you don't like him that way, try and break the illusion as soon as possible. It's easier to just rip the bandaid off."

"You're heartless."

"I'm a daughter of Ares, Y/N. We don't bullshit people. We say it how it is."

You scowl, snatching another set of trousers from her wash pile and getting to work, trying to ignore the thump of your heartbeat, which suddenly seems to have sped up a fair bit.

----

You lose track of how long it has been since you last saw your mother.

This happens sometimes, these long stretches of time when neither of you will acknowledge the other person; it's easier that way, just pretending she doesn't exist, just pretending the house is empty besides you.

You've been caught up in camp activities these past few weeks. Your hand is starting to heal, the nerves tingling, which Will says is a good sign. You've been talking to other campers, learning more and more about the world Emma has kept hidden from you for so long, a world that fascinates you, a world you will never want to be properly part of.

Now, however, you see her. Sitting on her own by the lake, knobbly knees pulled into her chest, dazed eyes locked on the swirling water in front of her. The little sea creatures have long since hidden, probably put-off by the presence of a stranger, but your mother doesn't seem to care. She just sits all on her own, long hair billowing out behind her as the moon begins to rise in the distance.

You lean against a tree just a little bit behind her and say, "Are you not cold?"

She doesn't even flinch, like the voice of her child has no effect on her whatsoever. Instead, she digs her fingernails into the dirt and grabs a handful of stones, lobbing them into the lake.

You sigh and crouch down next to her; she smells of sweat and dirt, a sure sign that she hasn't been taking much care of herself these past few weeks. "Let's go back to the Big House, Mum. You're gonna get hypothermia out here."

"He will protect me," she replies. "He's always protecting me."

"You mean Ares? Emma's Dad?"

"He's protected me from day one; he loves Emma and I. He's just busy."

You swallow, staring at the side of her face. "I'm sure he does, Mum. But he's clearly running a little late right now, so he's asked me to come make sure you get wrapped up before the wind eats you alive." You gaze at the trees. "Which I'm pretty sure is a thing that actually happens here."

Finally, your mum gazes at you, lower lip trembling. "I just want him to talk to me."

You freeze; it's most unlike your mother to talk like this, especially to you. She rants and raves about Ares to Emma, but she barely pays you any attention when it comes to things like this. You don't really know how to handle it, whether you should comfort her and tell her Ares loves her - this Greek god, surviving somewhere on Mount Olympus, overlooking the entire world. Yes, of course he still loves her. Of course he does.

But the other half of you just doesn't want to lie. You don't want to get her hopes up any more than they already are, because anyone with a brain will be able to see that Ares has long since forgotten about the mortal woman he apparently fell in love with, and the daughter they created together.

So, you grab your mum's hand and drag her to her feet. She slumps against you like a child having a tantrum, and you have to basically lift her off the floor to get anywhere. Nonetheless, you eventually have her standing, and together, you walk up the hill, back to the main camp.

It's dark, probably past curfew, but campers are still walking about. Mostly the Apollo cabin, never off their feet with the casualties they have to tend to in a day, though there are other campers enjoying a late night cup of hot chocolate by the fire, laughing merrily. They don't notice you walking up the hill, don't notice your mum mumbling to herself, words you can't even grasp being right beside her.

"The Ares cabin," your mum suddenly blurts.

You pause, nearly stumbling over your own two feet as your head whips around to the direction she is now staring, eyes wide.

"Yes, Mum," you grumble. "That is the Ares cabin - now, can we keep moving before my fingers fall off?"

"Is that where you've been sleeping these past few weeks?"

You narrow your eyes. "What? Yes, Mum, it is; Emma lets me sleep with her, now can we please-"

"He isn't your father."

You stop dead in your tracks; oh no. You've heard this line of speech before, and it's never pleasant. Mum gets angry, enraged, when she thinks you're trying to take on the same status as her beloved Emma, daughter of the war god. She likes to keep you in your place, which is a good few tiers below everybody else, apparently.

"I know that," you say quickly. "Emma was just nice enough to lend me her bed so I didn't have to sleep in the Hermes cabin - you know I don't know my way around here, so-"

"He wouldn't like you sleeping amongst his children. He told me."

"He what now?"

She shakes out of your grip, gritting her teeth. Her eyes are wild, dilated beyond anything you've ever seen, and when she next speaks, the words are a cry. "He told me!" She shakes her head, gripping the strands of hair between trembling fingers. "He's so mad at me, Y/N; he told me it was disrespectful to have a child with another man. He said he would burn you to the ground if you stepped out of line. He said he would kill you, just to teach me a lesson for going behind his back!"

You blink. You're used to this. You're meant to be used to this, but holy mother of god - gods? - you don't know what she's on about. You've never heard her talk like this. You've never heard her speak of your death before, and the words coming from her mouth are so eerie, so fucking terrifying that you stumble back, hands trembling, tears rushing to the surface.

"You crazy bitch."

She laughs, loud and clear so the entire camp's attention turns directly to her. "That's what he said! He called me insane, and then he said he loved me and gave me a child - and that child certainly wasn't you."

"Mum, what are you-"

"He talks to me sometimes, you know." She nods, hands still buried in her hair, tugging her eyes back so she looks demented. "In my head, he talks. We have little conversations, but he's been so much more talkative since we arrived here, like this place really is my home." She releases her hair, eyes dimming. "But you're not meant to be here; he told me that, too. He said Emma and I were welcome amongst his kind, but not you - not a bastard like you."

You look around; all the demigods are on their feet now, staring at the scene in confusion. It's embarrassing, absolutely mortifying to suddenly be the centre of their attention, especially under such circumstances.

"Okay," you croak out. "Okay, that's fine - I'll go, then. Leave you and Emma here. I don't mind, Mum. You don't have to get angry."

Mum's nostrils flare. "It's not me who's angry - it's him-"

"Well, tell him that he doesn't have to get his godly bollocks in a twist, because I'm leaving." You raise your hands in faux surrender, taking a few tentative steps back. "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again."

The words hurt, but they're the truth - especially now. Mum doesn't respond, merely stares as you take a few more steps backwards, turn on your heel and dart towards the Ares cabin, fighting desperately to push the tears away, because crying is stupid.

This is just your mum being. . . your mum, just as she's always been. Sure, her words tonight were a little harsher than you're used to, but her neglect has given you thick skin, thick enough to take her words on the chin.

You see the Ares cabin, and run right past it towards the lake. You nearly slip in the mud on your way down the hill, catching yourself before finally crumbling to the floor against a tree by the lake side.

You'll take her words on the chin, but you'll cry over them first.

----

When Leo hears the news, he's pretty sure his blood turns to fire.

He's half-asleep, but that doesn't stop his understanding of Will's words, his descriptions of the scene he just witnessed at the camp fire.

And the thing is, after hearing all the things your mum has done to you, Leo isn't even surprised to hear it's finally boiled over.

Doesn't make him any less angry.

He storms out of the Hephaestus cabin wearing nothing but his pyjamas. He feels the heat beneath his skin, threatening to break the surface as he forces it down, gritting his teeth. He's half tempted to turn to the Big House to give your mum a piece of his mind, but his main concern at the moment is you, and where you've gone, and where you plan on going, because according to Will, your last words to her were "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again." That's a horrible thought. Leo doesn't want to think about that.

He heads to the lake, because according to Will, that's the direction you were running, and Leo knows how much you like the lake; it calms you down, you said, and he stored that piece of information in his brain for weeks, as if in preparation for this very moment.

He stops at the top of the hill and gazes down, lighting up the darkness with a ball of fire cupped in the palm of his hand. You don't flinch at the sudden intrusion, instead curling into a tighter ball against the roots of a tree, burying your head in your knees. The sight breaks his heart. He swallows, slowly waddling down the hill, careful not to fall in the dirt.

You don't look up when he finally arrives at your side. "Y/N."

"Who told you?"

Leo crouches. "Will. He said you seemed upset."

"That's literally nobody's business."

Leo sighs, slumping against the tree beside you; his shoulder brushes your own, and for a moment, you stiffen against his side. "You don't have to tell me what happened if you're not cool with that," he says. "I'm not being nosy or anything."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm really not. I just wanted to make sure that witch didn't hurt your feelings too bad." He pauses. "What did she actually say?"

Your head snaps up, eyes blood shot, lips dry. "Ah, see! You are just being nosy!"

He swats your arm, scowling. "Be quiet, no I'm not; but how am I meant to help you if I don't even know what happened?"

"I never said I wanted help, Leo. My mum not caring about me isn't something that can just be helped." And you didn't even realise those were the words you were going to say, because they sound so heartbreaking, so self-pitying, even though they're the truth. You've always just brushed your mothers behaviour off as normal, the only hand you've ever been dealt, but phrasing it in that way, claiming she doesn't care . . . something about that makes your heart break.

Your lower lip trembles before you can stop it, fresh tears springing to the surface. You remember holidays, catching Emma wrapping up gifts of her own to give to you, just so you could wake up to something on Christmas morning. You remember making your own Halloween costume because your mother spent all her money on Emma's. You remember thinking it was okay, because it was all you ever knew.

You're older now, though. You can recognise mistreatment when you see it, but it's still a blow to the chest realising that you were on the other end of it, that you're a victim, whether you want to deny it or not.

Leo notices your sudden change of emotions and immediately lurches forward. His fingers are hot, almost scalding when they make contact with your arm, his brown eyes burning holes into your own. His eyebrows are furrowed when he says your name in a whisper, just your name, like nothing else needs to be said.

You close your eyes. "I'm fine."

"I wish you'd stop saying that. It's starting to grate on my skull, and I can't afford that kind of damage."

You let out a breath of a laugh, just because you think it's appropriate; in truth, you find none of this funny. You want to curl up and cry. You want to leave Camp Half-Blood and everything it stands for, start a life away from demigods and Greek gods alike.

What's stopping you?

Leo's hands heat up on your arm, forcing you to look at him again. He's closer now, head tilted, all amusement flushed from his features, which is a sad enough sight on it's own. It's been two seconds, but you already miss that sparkle in his eyes.

"Hey," he says quietly. "Talk to me."

And you do. You don't know why, but you do. The words pour out like a broken faucet, a complete mess of incoherence's that Leo - and only Leo - would ever be able to understand. He nods along like the words are making sense, like these sentences aren't just complete gibberish.

When you finish explaining everything that happened down at the camp fire, you gasp, starved for air. Leo grabs your hand and tugs you forward, cupping your face in his attempts to calm you down; you didn't realise the tears had started pouring, didn't realise you're breathing heavily, totally lost, unable to catch a breath.

"Calm down," he mumbles. "Y/N, calm down. I'm here. I've got you, pal, I've got you."

You close your eyes, leaning into his palm. He traces his thumbs along your cheeks before slowly, slowly, slowly running his hand over your ear, tucking a strand of hair back. His eyes never leave your face, despite the state you know you are in, how awful you must look.

"I'm sorry," you choke out. "I didn't mean to. . . to get so worked up."

"Don't be stupid," he replies. "Did she really say all that to you?"

"She's not in her right mind out here. She thinks she's one of you guys, that she can be part of the group just because-"

"Because she slept with Ares?"

You laugh, exhausted. "Yes, exactly."

Leo rolls his eyes, finally letting his hands drop back to his sides. "Honestly, everyone and their grandfather has probably slept with Ares. She's nothing special, and she needs to get that through her head." He pauses. The air crackles. "But - uh - you're, you know, special. Very special."

You blink, certain you heard him wrong. The words don't really make sense in this context, so you're trying to disentangle them.

Finally, you crack and say, "What?"

Leo rubs the back of his neck, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. Over the hill, everything is silent as Half-Bloods sleep, unknowing to the panic attack that has just captured you, unknowing to the magic Leo has just cast to calm you down.

"I said you're special," he mumbles. "In a good way, I mean. Like, a really good way."

Your heart thunders. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome." He looks at you then, chirping up. "But seriously, don't let her get to you. She's just a love sick psycho who doesn't know when to back down. Clingy ex-girlfriend and all that."

He changes the topic so swiftly it nearly gives you whiplash. You stare at him for another moment, and just when you're about to open your mouth to continue the previous, deserted conversation, Leo stands and reaches his hand out. "Shall we go before Hedge thinks there's some funny business going on?"

You nod dumbly, taking his hand only because you don't know what you want to say in response to what he has just said - he called you special, and he said it like it was just. . . normal, like it was something you could slip in without any further questions being asked.

You try and let the subject drop as Leo leads you back into camp. He walks you to the door of the Ares cabin, and it is there that he turns to you and says, voice low, "You can sleep in my cabin if your mum is in there; Chiron won't mind, and I won't either."

"No, it's okay," you reply. "Mum's staying in the Big House; I'll just slip in next to Emma." You glance at him, his eyes meeting yours because he never looked away. He looks so sweet beneath the lantern light, flames dancing across his skin like they were always meant to be there, like Leo has lived his life in fire and came out smiling every time. "Thank you, Leo; you really didn't have to help me tonight."

He scoffs. "Don't be daft. Next time you have any issues, I want you to run to me instead of the river naiads, you hear?"

You smile and nod. "I hear."

And so, Leo and you bid each other goodnight, and you watch as he walks across camp, past the Hephaestus cabin, right in the direction of Bunker 9. Half of you wants to go after him, question him on his use of the word special earlier on, but you don't. Your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, and so you turn on your heel and head into the Ares cabin, unable to stop the tiny smile that forms on your face.

----

Bunker 9 looks very nice in the morning.

"Oh, the tin is just glistening!"

Leo yelps, dropping a spanner on the ground as he whirls around. His overalls are covered in oil, along with his face, arms, legs, and every other body part that is presented to you on this fine Monday morning. In your hand is a plate of steaming cinnamon buns that Leo's eyes immediately fix upon, his startled expression quickly being replaced by one of pure hunger. You're almost certain you see his mouth salivating.

You tug the plate back, holding one arm out. "Not so fast, Fire Boy."

He frowns. "What did you just call me?"

"No cinnamon buns for you until you tell me how many hours of sleep you got last night."

Leo raises a brow, a tiny smirk making an appearance. "Are you kidding?"

"Nope. I want the details, Valdez, or these cinnamon buns are all mine."

"That's really unfair, and very unnecessary. A body like mine was made to work off two hours sleep."

Your eyes widen. "Two hours? Leo!"

"Can you just hand me my breakfast already?"

You groan, but a promise is a promise. You set the plate down on a nearby toolbox before pushing yourself onto the counter, legs swinging. Leo dives for the plate, nudging your knee with his hip as he grabs the first cinnamon bun he can see and stuffs it in his mouth, nearly swallowing the thing whole.

"Watch you don't choke."

"Why are you so protective this morning?"

"Two hours sleep, Leo? That's awful."

He shrugs, fingers hovering over the plate as he searches for his next victim. "I'm used to it. I'm not even tired! It was a really refreshing two hours."

"You get worse, you know."

Leo rolls his eyes, looking up at you. "And how many hours of sleep did you get, Sleeping Beauty?"

"More than two hours."

He clicks his fingers. "I want the details."

You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away. "I had six hours, if you must know. I'm refreshed and ready for my day!"

"So am I."

"Liar."

"And what?"

You laugh, and Leo smiles, making the noise louder than it really is.

"But no," he continues. "Don't you go worrying about me, dear. Ol' Leo Valdez can handle himself."

"Ol' Leo Valdez needs to take a nap."

"A nap? Sounds cowardly." He grabs the spanner from the floor, spins it in the air, catches it with an ease that makes your breath catch. "How about I show you the new updates I've made to Festus?"

Festus, Leo's pride and joy, the one thing in the world he will talk about for hours upon hours on end; you've sat there and listened to him every single time, absorbing every word, even if you don't understand it. He talks about circuits and updates and tools you have never heard of, but he says it all with such enthusiasm it's almost impossible not to get involved. And even though you know you should be stubborn, insisting on him getting into bed right this instant, you want to see him in that state again. You always want to see him in that state, eyes glittering with passion, hands moving all over the place, smile brighter than anything.

He doesn't need an answer. You simply smile at him, slightly exasperated, and he says, "Alright!" before spinning on his heel, the very beginning of his lecture.

You listen to him talk like how you would listen to lo-fi music. Your legs swing back and forth, back and forth, a tiny smile gracing your features. Leo shows you different parts, illuminating the inside of Festus's new helmet with fire ignited in his calloused palm. It makes his grin impossibly brighter. It makes his curls that little bit darker. It's him.

Finally, he spins and says, "Cool, right?" and even though you were mildly distracted the entire time, you nod and say, "Very cool. As always."

"What are you doing here so early, anyway?" He strolls over, casually plucking another cinnamon roll off the plate and taking a bite.

"I saw you heading to Bunker 9 last night and just assumed this was where you slept. I thought you said you didn't sleep in here?"

He shrugs. "I sleep in here when I'm stressed; gets me away from the ruckus of everyone else, you know."

You raise a brow. "You were stressed?"

"Of course I was stressed." He looks at you, exasperated. "Do you not remember anything we discussed last night?"

You blink; it's not that you had forgotten - there's no way you'll be forgetting that night any time soon - but you thought for sure Leo had. Yes, he'd been there to help you through it, and he was the reason you went to bed smiling, but you were still a mortal, and your problems surely could never be as big as his. You genuinely sat in front of him and cried about feeling neglected by your mother when his own mother is dead, and his Dad doesn't even talk to him, too busy producing other godly children. But here he is, head tilted and eyes slashed with worry. You almost want to look away, but the colour in them has become so noticeably entrancing these past few weeks that you find it nearly impossible to do so.

"I didn't mean to stress you out," is all you can manage. "I was just ranting."

"You were crying."

"I was - I mean - like - yeah, I guess, but you don't have to stress."

Leo narrows his eyes. "You really are dense, aren't you?"

You open your mouth, ready to chastise him for saying such a thing, but your words are swallowed by the loud clang clang clang of the door opening. Leo stares at you for a second longer before glancing over his shoulder, sharing your shock at the sight of Will popping his head in the door. His lower lip is pulled between his teeth, movements slow and timid.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," he says. "But we kind of need Y/N up at camp."

Those words are terrifying. They jolt you and Leo into action almost immediately; you slip off the counter, stumbling over a few discarded wrenches and old toolboxes. Leo catches you before you can fall, but neither of you comment on your suddenly linked hands before following Will out the door, curiosity getting the better of you.

You hear the commotion before you see it.

The sound of your mothers shrill voice is all-too familiar, and it echoes now. Bouncing off trees, sinking into the dirt, giving you a blistering headache that immediately makes you want to turn around and pretend you never heard it. But there's a crowd, an ocean of demigods, all with weapons and angry expressions trained on the woman who raised you - the woman who tried raising you - and despite the anger you once felt towards her, you pick up your pace, rush into the scene and say, "Ay! Get that spear out of my face!"

The demigod - you don't even know who she is - stumbles back, gaping at you. You don't give her the time of day, instead pivoting on your heel towards your mother.

There she is, stood in the middle of the clearing with her arms above her head, screaming up at the sky. Blood coats her elbows and knees. Chiron and Emma are beside her, but it seems like both of them have given up trying to make her see sense; they simply stare, Emma with tears in her eyes, Chiron looking like he's on the verge of booting her out of camp right this instant.

Leo stumbles to your side and grabs your arm. "What's wrong with her?"

You touch your mum's arm. "Mum, you're being proper embarrassing right now."

She spins. Her hair is matted, the product of having not been washed in weeks. Her eyes are dark, lips chapped and bitten, utterly destroyed. You've seen her when she's having one of her episodes, but this is worse. This is the worst you've ever seen it. It breaks your heart, even though it shouldn't. It was only last night she was basically calling you worthless, a mistake, the reason her little affair with a Greek god didn't work out.

You swallow. "Mum. . . It's me."

"Emma?"

You bite your lip, trying to ignore how much that hurts. "Uh. . . not quite, but nearly. Emma's over there."

"Don't get me involved in this," Emma spits, roughly swiping a hand across her cheek. "I don't want anything to do with her."

Your heart judders. Your mother's eyes narrow, like she's taking a little longer to process her first childs words. You decide to step in before she has a chance to.

"No, Mum, I'm not Emma, I'm Y/N. I'm here to - uh - take you home."

As soon as you say it, you want to curl in on yourself. It's a truth you've been trying to avoid these past few weeks, the idea of finally breaking away from camp and heading back to your shitty apartment with your shitty mother to live a shitty life of online classes and pretending everything is normal and okay. Behind you, Leo mumbles, "Sorry, what was that?" which hurts your heart even more. "Yeah," you continue, taking another timid step towards her. A branch cracks beneath your foot, and your mother flinches, looks up into the sky like the sound of a god appearing will be nothing more than a simple crack.

"Yeah, Mum, we're gonna go home, and you're gonna get some rest, okay? You look exhausted."

"Exhausted," she mumbles. "Home."

"Home, yeah. Remember home? We liked it there. Things were normal there."

Mum's nostrils flare. "Normal-"

"But our house is also where Ares thinks we are right now!" you barrel on. "He's got our address in his little address book - he doesn't actually know we're at Camp Half-Blood right now."

Her shoulders deflate, eyes brightening. "Oh. You're right. He's probably visited so many times and we haven't even been there! He's going to be so angry!"

"So, so angry." You wrap your arm around her shoulder, gently drawing her away from the crowd of angry demigods, of sobbing sisters and confused centaurs. You meet Leo's eyes only once, and it's enough to shatter your being, enough for the burning of tears to erupt through your senses. You want to turn and run to him, tell him you're sorry, promise to never leave him, but the feelings are so extraordinary and so weird, unfamiliar, that you can't.

You turn your gaze to the floor and guide your mother through the crowd towards the Big House, uttering words about home and comfort, and going back to a life you want to abandon for good. You pretend it's all okay, because that's all you've ever known.

----

Leo finds you that same night.

You left your mother in Chiron's care. She fell asleep immediately, and you were free to do what you wanted after that, but the thought of parading through Camp Half-Blood after being in the centre of such a weird scene made your stomach curl, so you stayed by her side until you were positive most of the campers were in bed, sleeping.

Except Leo, of course.

He sits down in the grass, shoulder brushing yours. You don't look over; you know it's him just from the scent of oil, and the way he cracks his knuckles, and the way he awkwardly coughs into the darkness. These are all little things of him you have memorised. Each one makes your heart ache.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks. "You don't have to do all that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Stick up for her. Make her comfortable.

" You shrug. "I know I don't."

"So why do you do it?"

"Because she's my mum."

"She's barely your mum. She doesn't even do the bare minimum for you."

True. Painfully, awkwardly true.

You shrug again. Leo sighs, tilting his head back. When you glance over, you see him gazing up at the stars, jaw clenched in a way that throws off the soft features of his face you have grown so used to seeing. You don't like it.

You reach over and poke his cheek in an attempt to make him loosen up. He closes his eyes. "I don't get it."

"What?"

"Why you have to be the one taking care of her when she's never taken care of you."

You swallow thickly. "I'm not. . . I'm not taking care of her. I'm just-"

"Then what was that back there?"

"That was me trying to make sure my mum didn't get a spear shoved down her throat. It's basic human decency, Leo."

He purses his lips, like this is something he has never heard of.

You sigh, slumping back against a tree. "I don't hate my mum, you know; she's done some fucked up stuff to me, but I don't hate her."

Leo stares at you. His eyes are lazors, flames, beams pouring into the side of your head, and you want to look at him, but you think it would be a very bad idea right now.

Neither of you say anything for what feels like forever, which is a big deal when sitting with someone like Leo Valdez. The only noise filling in the silence is the steady drip of rain drops rolling down the leaves, bouncing against the lakes surface. A few ocean creatures peak their heads up, examine the scene, duck back beneath the water.

And then, "Are you actually leaving?"

You bite back a sob. "You didn't expect me to stay here forever, did you?"

Leo doesn't respond.

"She's not well here," you continue, tilting your head back. The moon waves at you. The stars smile. "She was bad at home, but being here - around this kind of thing - it's going to drive her insane."

"She's a grown woman."

"Ares messed her up." It's the first time you've said it out loud, the truth. Your mother was okay before she met that man. You've heard stories from your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, of the days when your mum was winning medals for her skills in ballet, the days she was getting awards for her academic success, the days where she played mediator in a house full of people who could never see eye-to-eye on anything. You listened to them with only half-interest, because you never fully believed them. You had lived with the crazy side of her for too long by that point.

But it's true. Ares waltzed into her life, promised her the world, gave her this child with skills beyond human comprehension, gave her a taste of real love for the first time in her life - and then he left.

"Why do gods think they can just get away with that?" you find yourself asking before you can stop. "Mess with people's lives like that. Why do they think that's okay?"

Leo sighs. "They run the world. They can do whatever they want."

"That seems really unfair."

"Yeah, well, it's also unfair that you have to give up your own happiness for your mum."

You close your eyes; there it is again, the topic breached. Leo doesn't understand that this is all you've ever known - caring for her, making sure she's okay, being ignored and neglected because you're not the gods child. He doesn't understand that this has been your life from day one. You were never given a chance to mind it. You were never given a chance to know anything else.

"You know, I think this place could really benefit with someone like you."

You look at him. "You're just saying that."

He shrugs, picking up a pebble and lobbing it at the lake. Always keeping his hands moving, never being still. "Maybe. Maybe I'm just a little desperate for you to stay." He looks at you. "Is that weird?"

You swallow, unable to respond, because you want to tell him no, no of course it's not weird, please keep talking and I'll stay, I'll stay here with you, I'll never leave, I never wanted to leave in the first place.

Leo looks down at his hands, fingers fiddling with the threads dangling from his overalls. "Sorry. I - I didn't mean to - like - put you on the spot or anything. I just care about you. A lot. And I hate seeing you upset. It bothers me."

The way it says it, words spoken through gritted teeth, makes your heart stutter. Oddly, it reminds you of those days spent laughing in Bunker 9, calling him stupid as he tried so hard to keep you amused, like he wanted to keep your attention as firm as possible so you wouldn't get up and leave. For once in your life, someone wants you to stay.

And it's sad - heartbreaking, even - that you have been cursed with these circumstances, that the mere notion of staying at Camp Half-Blood is so beyond reality; you're no demigod. Even if your mother were to head home on her own, do you a favour for once, the chances of Chiron being allowed to let you stay are incredibly, incredibly slim. You won't entertain the idea. You won't get your hopes up like that. You won't play to your own feelings, because that has never done anything for you, nothing but leave you in a state of despair.

And so, you keep quiet, staring out over the lake with Leo by your side, his hands working, his mind probably racing, your heart a steady thump in the distance.

---

The next day, you are ready to leave.

You packed all your things the night before. You said all your goodbyes the night before. You and Emma got into a brutal argument the night before, and now you're stood before her, trembling from head to toe as you patiently wait for Chiron to lead your mother to Thalia's pine tree so the both of you can finally be let go.

Emma stares at you. She's been doing that since last night, her hands balled into fists, jaw strong, so she looks a little bit like her father; you can say that now. You hate him. You think you'd punch him in the face if you ever saw him.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this for her."

"I never understood why you hate her so much - you're the one she actually cares about."

Emma grits her teeth, looking to the ground in that way she so often does when she's trying not to punch you square in the face. "That's not the point."

"You don't even deny it any more," you scoff. "You've just come to terms with the fact that she basically worships the ground you walk on. How about you start understanding how lucky you are rather than giving me grief for taking care of her?"

"Taking care of her?" Emma bursts. "She's your mother! She should be taking care of you!"

"Right, but that's not the way things have turned out, so we might as well cut the shit now before-"

"Leo spoke to me, you know." You freeze. Your mouth stays open, eyes widening; Leo is the absolute last thing you want to talk about right now, not after last night, not after hearing the hint of heartbreak in his voice when he realised it was too late, you were too far gone, there was no keeping you.

Emma nods, even though you haven't said anything, even though you can do nothing but stare at her in complete shock and bewilderment. "Yeah, Leo Valdez, the boy you're head over heels in love with."

You splutter. "What?"

"Oh, don't play dumb! I've seen the way you are with each other. I've seen the way you look at him. I've seen the way he looks at you, and for fuck sake Y/N, you shouldn't have to give all that up for someone like her!"

"That person you're on about is our mother!"

"And what? That means you have to put your entire life on hold for her?" Emma drops her sword in a move close to desperation, startling you when she barrels forward and grabs your shoulders. She holds you at arms length, eyes like fire. "You're my only little sibling, Y/N; it's my job more than anything else to look after you, and I'm not going to sit back and let your selflessness ruin your whole life."

You blink, and only then do the tears make an appearance. You think of Leo, even though you hate it, even though you've already said your goodbyes to him and you should just leave it at that. He hugged you, and you hugged him, and you apologised and he told you there was nothing to be sorry for - it was the perfect potential ending, but you don't want it to be over.

Emma is right; you're jeopardising your own happiness for this woman.

Emma stares at you, the tears leaking from your eyes. Her own lower lip trembles, but she's Emma, so she won't start crying. Not properly.

You inhale shakily, ducking your head down. "I can't let her go home on her own, Em. She'll never make it. She'll never agree to go if she doesn't have someone with her."

"So I'll go."

You freeze. "What?"

Emma tilts her head forward, catching your eye. "I said, I'll go. I'll take her home, get her settled, and then I'll get someone to come take care of her - a professional. Someone who should have been there for her a long bloody time ago. You can stay here for a while."

Your heart thunders. You're certain you've heard her wrong, because this isn't right - none of this is right. Emma's the demigod. She should be the one staying here whilst you get shipped off back home with your mother. That's how things have always been, how things were always meant to be. But when you look back at your older sister now, there is no glimmer of amusement in her eyes; she's being serious, more serious than you've ever seen her before.

She squeezes your shoulders, curling her stubby nails into the fabric of your hoodie. "I mean it, Y/N. If you want to stay here-"

"I do," you croak out. "I really, really do."

"For Leo?"

You blink.

Emma grins. "For Leo." She pats your shoulder, nearly knocking you off your feet. "Go, before her and Chiron make an appearance. I think Valdez is-"

But you don't let her finish. You know where Leo is even without her input, and so you throw yourself into her arms, squeal a thank you in her ear before sprinting off down the hill towards Bunker 9.

The gods should be yelling at you right now, casting lightning and rain and every other deadly element down upon you, because this must be so far out of the rule book. This must be going entirely against everything they have ever set up, every rule they have laid out - a mortal in one of their demigod camps? A mortal hanging around their children like their even close to being equal. Complete blasphemy.

But you don't care. Not when you round the corner to see the door to Bunker 9 already wide open, little flashes of Leo Valdez skimming past the entryway.

You pause in the trees, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of what he is doing, and it is only then do you see the spanner smash against one of the windows. The glass doesn't shatter, but it shakes and it makes a loud noise, and it's followed closely by Leo yelling out a curse that would get him blown to smithereens if his father were to hear it.

You sprint towards the door. "Leo?"

He spins around, eyes widening. He grips his hand, blood seeping from one of his fingers, dribbling down his wrist and landing upon his boots. He doesn't seem to care, though, simply staring at you in shock.

And then, "Y/N?"

You throw yourself forward, grabbing his wrist. The blood from his gets caught beneath your fingers, but you don't care. You stare at it, shaking your head, whispering his name over and over, and all he can do is stare at you, dumbfounded, before he exclaims, "Hey, wait!" and stumbles back, yanking his hand from your grip in the process.

"Leo, let me have a look at that-"

"You shouldn't be here right now!"

"Okay, Leo, yes, we'll discuss that later, but please, let me look at your hand. What the hell did you even do?"

You reach for him, but he's like a wild animal, startled and afraid. He stumbles back, nearly tripping over a toolbox discarded on the floor. You notice the mess that wasn't there this morning, the tools laying everywhere, sheets of torn paper thrown left, right and centre, broken glass littering the hard floor.

"Jesus, Leo," you gasp. "What have you been doing in here?"

"Why are you back? Why aren't you away yet?"

You lift your gaze, narrowing your eyes. "If you want me to go, you can just say so." And right now, looking at the scene around you and the state of Leo's hand, and his startled expression, you don't even feel bad that he very well might just ask you to turn and leave. Your mind is preoccupied, wanting nothing more than to grab him and force him to shut up so you can pay some attention to the gaping wound on the tip of his finger. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He's staring at you, unable to move, small of his back pressed against the workbench. The blood welling in his fingertip looks to only be getting worse.

"Leo," you say softly. "Please, can we talk about this later?"

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't run away when you take a step towards him, either. His eyes never leave your own as you reach for his hand and pull him towards a chair in the corner, slowly pushing him into it. You softly ask him to reach into that magic toolbelt of his to pull out some medical supplies, and he does so with trembling hands, never saying a word, never really needing to.

You get to work in silence, trying to ignore the thumping of your own heart, the tremble of your own hands, the desperate need you have to just apologise over and over and over for scaring him so bad, for startling him to the point where he can't even form a full sentence, to the point where he was willing to run away from you.

You clean the wound and bandage it the best way you can, remembering all those times as a child when you would cut yourself by accident and your mum would be too dazed or too neglectful to take you to the hospital or do anything about it herself.

Leo watches your hands working wonders until it's all finally complete and you step back, admiring your handiwork with a pleased grin on your face. "Not too shabby."

Leo swallows. Finally you take the time to look at him, his pale face and startled eyes; he looks like he's on the verge of tears, which really isn't the reaction you were hoping to receive when you walked back into Bunker 9.

You fold your arms over your chest, nibbling your bottom lip as you say, "I'm staying."

Leo exhales shakily. "I don't get it. Last night you were so adamant-"

"I know. I know I was, but I never wanted to go in the first place."

"So why-"

"Emma made me realise some things." You push yourself onto the workbench behind you, the very same spot you always found yourself sitting when Leo is working away on one of his projects. You used to sit with your legs pulled beneath you, watching him work in silence.

He stares at you. "I fully prepared myself to never see you again."

You wince. "I'm sorry."

And then he's scrambling out of his chair, stumbling between your legs, grabbing your hands, tugging them into his chest, all in that order. You gasp at the touch, the rough fabric of his plaster rubbing against your wrist, the forever warm touch of his skin so familiar yet you crave it so badly.

He's shaking his head, mumbling "No," on repeat beneath his breath

. "Leo. . ."

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he says. "So don't apologise to me again, alright? I don't want it. I don't need it - all that matters now is that you're here, and you - you said you're staying." He looks up, almost timid. "Did I hear that right?"

You nod, dazed; he's not mad. He's happy. He's smiling, and his eyes are doing that thing again where they glint and they crease into crescents, and he looks so cute, so happy, so like the Leo you've come to know and love so deeply. It makes your heart stutter. It makes this entire thing so, so worth it.

He grins. "Oh gods, Y/N, you scared the shit out of me. I nearly tore this place to the ground-"

"I can see that," you croak.

He winces, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. "I didn't mean to - It was honestly an accident, but-"

"It's okay, Leo." His head snaps back round.

"It's okay?"

"It's all okay."

You reach forward, winding your arm around his neck, dragging him closer. His curls flood through your fingers, his eyes fluttering closed for a split second before he opens them again and says, "Can I kiss you?"

You nod, because of course he can. He does just that, pressing his lips to yours delicately, so, so delicately, like he's afraid you'll shatter. His hands are tender on your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle, mindless circles into the fabric of your shirt, and it's all so slow, all so gentle, but your heart is exploding into constellations, sprinkling over your being in a way you have never experienced before.

For someone who is never still, never calm, never quiet, his kisses are like a warm summer afternoon spent wading along a beach. They are aquamarine waters and birds chirping around a morning sunrise. They are everything and nothing and more than enough but never enough all in the same breath.

He pulls away first, uncertain, glancing nervously into your eyes as he slowly releases you. He takes a steady step back, rubbing the back of his neck, and it takes everything in you not to pull him back in.

Instead you laugh, swinging your legs back and forth like a giddy child. "Don't look so sheepish or I'll think you've poisoned me."

"I'm not very good at that," he mumbles. "Machines don't usually need kissed, so I don't tend to do it that often."

"I'd hope not." You grab his hand, pulling him back between your knees. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier."

He opens his mouth, ready to protest your apologies once again, but you cut him off with five fingertips pressed to his lips. His eyes cross over as he glares at them, making you giggle. "I know you said I shouldn't apologise, but I shouldn't have been so. . . hasty. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. I should have let you speak-"

"I don't say very interesting things."

"You say the most interesting things." You drop your hand, intertwine your fingers with his. "But I'm staying, Leo. I promise." He exhales shakily, like this is what he has been waiting to hear for a while now; it breaks your heart, rejuvenates you at the same time, and you realise suddenly just how awful it would have been to pack up your stuff and head home, to live a life without Leo Valdez in it.

---

Your mother looks a little better. A little healthier. A little happier.

Emma sits beside her, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, a denim jacket over the top. She looks happy, too, a little exhausted, but you never expected anything less. She's still smiling, though, and when her face appears in the Iris message, she lets out a happy sigh of relief.

"I thought you two would fuck it up."

"Go to hell, Emma," says Leo.

You chuckle, leaning back in your seat; it's been two weeks since Mum and Emma went back to the flat together, two weeks since you agreed to spend the rest of your summer at Camp Half-Blood, working on a relationship with Leo Valdez. It's been a grand two weeks, yes, but you still have responsibilities back in the real world.

"So, how's it going?" you ask. "Mum, you're still going to therapy, aren't you?"

"Yes," Mum mumbles, sounding more like an anguished teenager than anything else. "I've told you both already, I don't need it - I got over Ares years ago. I have my own family now - he can go to hell."

"Tartarus," Leo corrects.

"Whatever."

You grin. It's been so long - so long - since you've heard your mum mention you in the same context as Emma, including your name in the same sentence as the word family. Leo must notice your sudden shift in mood, as he chuckles, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back. He does that sometimes, letting you know he's there, like you'd ever forget. You reach behind you and tangle your fingers with his, subtly placing your joined hands in your lap.

"A few more weeks," you tell her. "That's all you have to endure, and then they're putting you on that trial, aren't they?"

"Apparently," Mum replies. "I was thinking of coming to visit you."

You and Emma share a look - the last time your mother was at Camp Half-Blood, things didn't exactly go well. The energy of this place drove her insane, reminded her of days with Ares, reminded her she'd been abandoned by the one man she ever loved.

Leo cuts in. "Oh, no! I was hoping Y/N and I could come out there and visit you guys for the week!"

Your head whips round. "You were?"

"Well, yeah." Leo rolls his eyes, faux exasperation. "I did tell you about it. I haven't been back to your house since the giant threw that boulder through your window." He rubs his finger along your scarred, damaged knuckles, forever torn from the boulder that destroyed all your nerve endings. "I think it would be a grand old time, personally."

"I agree," Emma chimes in. "And it would be less stressful for us - we can just wait here for them to arrive, and you still get to see Y/N!"

Mum hums, thoughtful, and for just a second, you're certain she's going to revert back to her old ways. She's going to call you scum, pretend you don't exist, make you feel like shit all over again; judging by the sudden grip Leo has on your hand, he thinks the exact same thing. You thought this was over with. You thought your Mum had gotten better, that she finally realised you are her child, too, and-

"I guess it would be a lot less hassle."

Leo exhales. "Great! It's a date."

"For you two, maybe," Emma grumbles. "Look, we have to leave in two minutes, so this is goodbye."

"Jeez, Em, tell us how you really feel."

"See you in a few weeks, assholes!" And before you or Leo can respond, the Iris message is flickering to a close, leaving you and Leo alone in Bunker 9.

It's silent for a few seconds. Leo grips your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles, and it suddenly feels so, so hard not to cry.

"She's getting so much better," you choke out.

Leo's head snaps round, eyes widening at the crack in your voice. "Hey, no. Don't you start crying on me, okay? This is a good thing! Good!" He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. He has that goofy look, his eyebrows stitched together, his lips pursed; it makes you laugh every time.

You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists just to keep the feel of him against you for a little longer. "I'm not going to cry. I'm not a bitch."

"It's all good here, Y/N," he says. "I always told you it's all good here."

And with his hands on your face, his eyes gazing into your own, the sweet weather of Camp Half-Blood flourishing outside, you know he's telling the truth. It's all good.

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

once upon a december

summary: you had no idea who you were, how you got to where you were, or even your real age. all you knew was that you needed to go to auren, and something there would help you find the family that you always secretly craved. little did you know, you’d find family far before you actually got to auren.

warnings: backstory vibes, incorrect stitching and terribly incorrect making of clothing as usual with this one,

word count: 3.7k

part three!

Sam was a man who was rarely unprepared, and it was becoming increasingly obvious to you. He had already anticipated the group’s need for clothes, so he had plenty of fabric and told you that you had free reign over it, and you doubted that you had smiled bigger all year.

You sat on his furniture with your legs crossed as you meticulously embroidered a coat for yourself, smiling gently as you wove the thread. The fire was warm next to you as you worked quietly and diligently, an air of peace settling in the room that wasn’t broken even when the men came busting back in after they checked on the horses.

“I finished your pants,” you mused lightly. You tilted your head towards the short pile of folded clothes and then looked up at Steve and Bucky. “I think I got the measurements right.”

“I’m sure you did perfectly,” Bucky said.

“I can do yours next if you want, Steve.” He looked at you for a second, then you saw him nod his head sharply before turning on his heel and walking right back out of the doors, like he was never there in the first place.

Your mouth dropped open a bit at his blatant rudeness, and how it had been going on the entire time you two were acquainted. “Why doesn't he like me?”

Bucky looked taken aback. “He doesn’t not like you, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings, Bucky. I know he hates me.” He winced.

There was a moment of thick silence as Sam came back into the room, not sensing the awkwardness until he opened his own mouth and then shut it, getting ready to listen to whatever the other knight was about to say. “I’m afraid you remind him—me too, really— of the girl he used to know,” he said softly, the heat of the fire warming your skin. “The three of us used to be close.”

“How close?”

Like he was sifting through memories and thinking of the ones you were allowed to know and not know, he was silent and in his own head for a moment. “Let’s just say that Steve is the strongest person I know, and he’s still broken up about it. And it happened years ago, five-or maybe six-now.”

“They were best friends?”

“Yes,” James, or Bucky, confirmed. “They were close to the point that everyone who knows Steve knows that had the timing been right, he and that girl would have been much more than friends.”

You made a face that signaled that you understood. You looked into the fire for a moment, and then tilted your head in thought. Steve hated you because you looked like his lost love, whatever happened to her. Besides him being standoffish and not really speaking much, he never went out of his way to be rude to you, and that gave you hope at fixing whatever went wrong. Or maybe you couldn’t fix it.

“He doesn’t dislike you,” Bucky confirmed, like he could hear your thoughts churning. “He just doesn’t know how to speak to someone who looks so much like… her.”

“Do we really look the same?” You asked, still staring into the fire, even when you felt Bucky’s stare come onto your face, eyeing your side profile.

“Yes, actually,” He said, and you nodded. “You look eerily similar to her. And even some of the things you do…” he trailed off, shaking his head. His hair bounced softly with the movement, and you briefly wondered how he kept his hair so healthy.

“What… what happened?”

His eyes widened momentarily, almost like he had heard you ask the most obvious question on the planet. “What happened to Steve?” So, everyone on the planet knew what exactly happened to Steve Rogers, then.

That was a question for another day. “What actually happened to her? Alexandra, right?”

“Ah,” He said, looking towards Steve, who you could see through the open door gathering wood for the fire. “I can’t tell you that.”

Your mouth got ahead of your brain, and before you knew it, your tone was nearing towards demanding. “Why not?”

He grimaced and leaned closer. “Because…” he trailed off when he saw Steve walking towards them again. “No one truly knows.”

For the rest of the night as you started on a thick blanket for Sam (dark blue, which he had requested after being so flattered that you even thought to make him one), you thought about the girl. And of course, Steve.

As weird as it was, you felt like Steve wasn’t who he used to be. You didn’t know him before, but behind the hard exterior was fluffy cotton. You knew that he was much softer than what he was showing you, and that he had been hardened up by the years, a sad condition that nearly everyone went through.

But how did no one know if the girl was alive or not? If she had run away or been taken? If she just skipped out and forgot to write a note? It was a mystery, and you absolutely loved mysteries. But you couldn’t even begin to imagine not knowing what happened to a best friend after six years of silence. You understood Steve’s apprehension and anger towards you then, even though looking like someone else wasn’t your fault, and you knew it. But he had a problem with you, and that didn’t make for a good trip at all.

So you were intent on fixing it.

§§

You woke up before everyone else, and you did it on purpose. You were supposed to be heading out within a few hours, and the headstart gave you plenty of time. You had fallen asleep on the couch and woken up with a blanket tossed over you, and you guessed that Bucky did it. You stood up, got your dry shoes on, went out to the horses, and then went to look at the hunting weapons.

You didn’t know how to use any of them. At all.

“Okay, which one am I most likely to get lucky with?” You muttered, and then your eyes rested on a nicely polished bow and arrow. “Okay, attack from afar, sounds like a good plan.”

You had no idea what Steve’s love language was, but you wanted him to know that you weren’t there to haunt his memory. You were sure that he was the type to be glad to see someone had done something for him, though, so you were going to go with that. You were going to kill the day’s game for him.

You hoisted yourself up on the horse that was oddly familiar with you and didn’t make a sound other than a pleased, chortling noise and went on your way, bow and arrows strapped to your back.

When you saw the first rabbit after half an hour, you nearly fell off of your horse. Your breathing hitched and you quietly set up the weapon as best as you could, feeling it slide into place, and then, something in your mind just clicked. Like an itch that you didn’t even know had been scratched. You breathed in, breathed out, pulled back and let it go, only for you to miss by about an inch. The rabbit took off.

You groaned.

For the next three animals you saw, the outcome was the same. You would get irritatingly close, they would run, and you never saw that one again. You were honestly pleased with yourself for getting so close, but you couldn’t give yourself any praise until you got something.

There was a noise from behind you, and then your bow was cocked and you shot right at the squirrel behind you, hitting it right in the center and killing it instantly. You put a hand over your mouth when you realized that you had actually gotten the animal, and you did a little dance as you rushed over to it, taking the arrow out.

“Thank you so much, little buddy. You won’t go to waste.” You grimaced as you put him in the little bag that you brought, closing it up and praying that the smell wouldn’t smack you in the face when you opened it again.

On your way back, you ran into a rabbit. You shot at it, hit it, and then got off of the horse to get it and put it in your bag, wiping off the bloody arrow in the snow. “Thank you, bunny.” You were about thirty minutes away from reaching the house again when you saw something brown move out of the corner of your eye. You stopped the horse and it stomped its foot, but that didn’t phase the deer that was about twenty feet away, just staring at a tree.

You were shocked. The Goddess of the Hunt, whoever she was, was really looking out for you. You had so many chances in the beginning, and now you had an opportunity to go for a deer? It was big enough to last the four of you days, if you were smart with it. You looked at your bag that was tinting red, and you grimaced at it.

Did you have enough as it was? Yes. Had you always been greedy and a little ambitious? Absolutely.

You sighed quietly to yourself, shaking your head at your own antics. You had the bow in your hands, the arrow pulled back, and then you hesitated.

You really didn’t want to have the deer hurting for any longer than it had to. You wanted it to be so fast that it didn’t even feel it, really. You breathed in and out steadily as you tried to think about where the heart of a deer would be at, and then you thought about going for the head. That would almost guarantee a quick death, and you knew where its brain was at. But it was a smaller target.

Come on, you just hit a squirrel, you said to yourself inside of your head, breathing in and out again to focus. You had to get this deer. They were scarce around here, and you knew that it would solidify a friendship between you and Steve.

You didn’t know why you craved it so much, only that you did. And you usually got what you wanted, if you could help it.

You aimed for the head, and it was standing still, not even taking notice of you at all. That was good. You took another steadying breath, cocked it again, and then let it go. It whistled in the air for only a few seconds before plunging right into its head, and you watched it fall to the side, dead instantly.

Your jaw slacked and left your mouth open. You blinked once, twice, three times, and then you shook your head and got off of the horse, who was making noise now at the sight of you getting big game. You walked towards it slowly, as if you were afraid that it was going to come back and get you. “How the hell am I going to get this back?” You muttered to yourself after looking at just how big it was.

You felt weird about picking up an animal that big while it was dead, and you almost gagged at the thought of handling it. But you had no choice. You killed it, so now it was your responsibility to take it back and make use of it, because you weren’t wasting any animal like that.

“Okay, bud, work with me,” you said as you prepared to lift it on top of the horse, knees buckling with the weight of it at your first try. “Fuck.” You muttered. You grunted again as you used all of your strength to put the deer on the horse, laying it across so that it took up all the room sideways. You’d have to walk. “Alright. Now, to the cabin.”

The walk back was silent. The sun was high up in the sky now, and you had no doubt that they had woken up already. They were usually up before you were, gone for a second and then back within a few minutes.

You walked past trees that you had seen before on the way out, and it reassured you of your good sense of direction. You hummed softly to yourself as you started to hear shouting by familiar voices in the distance, their panicking somehow now hitting you like it was hitting them.

Your steps were bouncy as you came out of the tree line, a smile on your face. You saw Bucky whip his head around and stare at you with wide eyes. “W-where were you?”

Your smile dropped. “I went outside.”

“You can’t just leave like that,” he said exasperatedly, rubbing his hand with his face. “You’ve got Steve going feral.”

Despite the news of him being angry, your heart jumped at the thought of him seeing what you had worked hard for. “Where is he?”

“What the hell is on the horse?” He asked softly, stepping forward. His face fell when he finally allowed himself to recognize the large animal. “Did you- did you buy a deer?”

You made a face. “No, I don’t have money.” You grinned when you took the bag and handed it his way. He opened it and looked pleasantly surprised at the contents. “I hunted them.”

“I’m going to go out and find her,” you heard Steve shout from inside, not angry, just telling someone- who you assumed was Sam. You frowned as you listened to him stomping towards the back door, watching him freeze when he saw you. “What the- What happened?”

“I… went outside?”

“You can’t just do that,” Steve grumbled, stepping closer to you. “Not everyone you come across is going to be a good person. Especially not when it’s barely gotten light outside, Y’N. You can’t go out by yourself.”

“You do,” you retaliated.

“Well, I’m a trained knight.” And stronger and taller than the average man in these parts, for sure, you knew, but you weren’t going to validate what he said. “And you’re a woman.”

“Yes, I happen to be that,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. You took a deep breath when you remembered what you had gone out for in the first place, and you gently took the bag from Bucky and took a step towards Steve, who was still infuriated. “I got these for you.”

His look of irritation dropped. “What?” He looked inside of the bag and it was obvious that he recognized the weapon that killed them. “You know how to shoot?”

“I just wanted to clear the air.” You said softly, taking a step back. “I know we didn’t start off too well, and we’re not too hot at the moment, either. I know you like to hunt and have food like this, so I brought you something.”

By now, Sam was standing next to Bucky, wide eyed at the exchange that you meant to be a lot more pleasant than it was going. You weren’t even focused on them, and neither was Steve. It was just the two of you in the cold, trying to understand each other and succeeding every few seconds.

“That was… very kind of you.” Steve said, his usually loud, naturally commanding voice almost as tender as yours. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I got a deer,” you blurted, and his brows scrunched together in confusion. “I don’t know how, but I did.” You saw his eyes travel to the deer, lying dead on the horse. He looked pleasantly shocked. “I hope this can, uh, fix things.”

He tore his eyes away from the deer. “I’m sorry for making you feel like the only way you could get me to like you was for you to bribe me.” You started to frown. “This wasn’t necessary, but it was very kind of you. Thank you, Al-Y/N.”

You pretended like you didn’t hear the way he was about to call you Alexandra, for his sake and yours. You smiled gently at him and reached up to pat him on his shoulder. “It was my privilege and pleasure.” You headed towards Sam’s back door just before you could see the way that they all tensed up and looked at Steve, who got paler by the second, and looked like he had seen a ghost.

§§

You had more fabric in your bag, a stronger pair of scissors, more needles, and more thread as you rode on the back of Bucky’s horse. You figured that Steve still needed his space, regardless of how much he was grateful for your efforts. He had skinned the deer and cut it up earlier, a soft smile on his face the whole time he did it.

Apparently, you were still three weeks away from reaching the other kingdom. You didn’t question it. You had no doubt that picking you up made them a little slower, anyway. That, and the fact, that you got distracted with the simplest things.

Honestly, you couldn’t help it. There were so many things that you hadn’t seen before, and something as similar as a half frozen creek excited you for that reason. White birds flying through the air and landing on the snow that matched their wings made you stop the horse so you wouldn’t disturb them. And of course you wanted to touch the hanging berries that were a bold red. You had seen everything and nothing in the world, and you were checking things off one at a time.

The days were quite boring, really. No one really spoke, and when they did, you let the men have their time. You figured that you had absolutely nothing to contribute when it came to the topic of knighthood or old battles or their favorite times where they used their favorite swords. So, you just looked at the ground and at your cloth and at the sky, the hooves of the horse marking time for you.

It was the nights that made the difference, where you grew closer to them all. It was always cold, and cold meant lonely. So, you started conversation, every night, and it would go on for hours until someone was too tired to still hear mindless or not so mindless chatter.

One night, the fifth night, you sighed and looked up towards the stars, since it had stopped snowing. “You guys are clearly from Auren.” There was no answer. “Why do you three live all the way out here?”

It was a known fact that the two kingdoms were opposite. If you were from Yuran, you never wanted to travel to Auren. If you were from Auren, it was extremely rare that anyone would leave for Yuran for anything but business. Now, for Auren knights to live in Yuran? Something was up.

The silence was thick. You decided to let it cook, assuming that one of them was going to say something, even if it was a lie. Then, you heard a heavy sigh, and then Bucky’s voice. “The three of us were exiled.”

Your heart stopped in your chest for a moment. What could they have done that put them in exile? To exile a Knight was a huge deal, and it took a lot to get through. Knights were fan favorites. “Oh.”

“We’re not criminals,” Sam cleared up quickly, and you could sense his nervousness in the dim light of the stars. “We just… had different opinions than everyone else.”

“So, you’re rebels?” You asked softly.

“No! We just did something that was unauthorized, thinking that we would succeed.”

You should have been terrified. “If you don’t mind me asking…?”

Like everyone was waiting on a specific person to give clearance to admitting their crime, you waited on an answer. It was Steve who delivered it. “We launched a search for the princess.”

You grew up in Yuran. You had the barest of knowledge about Auren, besides the fact that you wanted to go. You knew that just like in Yuran, they had a democracy. The Yuran line was the Pierce family, and the Auren line was the Starks. That’s all that you knew, really.

“Um, who?” There was silence. “I’m sorry, we didn’t really get prime education at the orphanage. And they always told us that Auren wasn’t our business, so I know nothing about it, really.”

“Well, you know about the raid of the castle, right?” When you looked lost, he gave you a look. “The huge one that happened a while back. Five years ago.”

Hadn’t you just said that you knew close to nothing? “Uh…”

“One night, about half a decade ago, the castle was raided. The goal was to kill the entire royal family, and unfortunately, they got a few of them. The King and Queen survived, but the Princess was missing. She was their only child, their adopted one at that, and so the kingdom was in distress. It was pronounced that the Princess was probably dead after weeks of no ransom notes, no boasting, no nothing. And so, the King decreed that he wanted no one to stir things up, because it hurt his heart to be full of hope and then shot down over and over again.”

You could imagine how terrible that felt. The thought of someone’s only child and heir to disappear after an attack was terrifying. Lucas was practically yours, and you couldn’t imagine that happening with you and him. You felt horrible for the monarchs that you never knew.

Bucky was speaking now. “But, Steve, Sam, and I, didn’t take no for an answer. We did it ourselves, nearly got killed, and got into plenty of fights that had mixed results. That’s how I lost my arm, by the way.” He added, and you nodded in the darkness at the bluntness of his statement. “The King caught wind of what we were doing while he was planning her funeral with no body, and he was so angry that he casted us out on the spot. We weren’t even allowed to go to the service.”

You blinked in momentary silence. “Wow.”

A beat of silence that was as painful as a dying heart’s last beat passed between the four of you. “Yeah.” It took a few seconds to craft the right sentence up in your mind, to indirectly tell them that the new information didn’t make them look like any sort of criminals.

“You… I think that what you did was very honorable.” You said quietly, and you felt the tension in the air shift to something lighter, ever so slowly. “If the Princess were to hear that you fought so hard to bring her home, I’m sure that she would be very grateful.”

“I hope so,” Sam said, and you heard him turning over on his side, a clear indicator that he wanted the conversation to be over. “I really hope so.” And so you let it rest.

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