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mediumgayitalian · 29 days

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———

Whenever they drive into town, arguing over who sits where and spilling buckets of strawberries all over the floor, the music blasts so loudly on the horrible, tinny speakers that it vibrates the entire van, and still the group of them is so loud that the songs get drowned out anyway. It is especially worse if, Nico will admit, he and Chiara are in the front seats together, whatever argument they delight in having raising New York’s noise pollution levels by four percent at least. If there is enough fruit to warrant two vans, and all sixteen of them will go, they will race down the highway, drowning each other out with the pure force of their shrieking voices. People stare. Cars slow to a stop. Cars follow them, even, mouths open, wondering at these grinning, hollering fools, dressed in neon and crawling all over each other.

It has been a long time since Nico has driven in silence.

Even as a child there was noise. No radios in cars, yet, they’d hardly been invented, but he and Bianca would scarcely be within miles of each other without bickering. Crowded in the backseat of Nonno’s Alfa Romeo, shouting for Mama in between even every poked shoulder and shoved face, there was noise. In the backseat of Alecto’s SUV, too, muffled as it was, and in every car he raced at the Lotus. Even up front with Jules-Albert, there has always been something. Grumbling, usually, live Grand-Prix reporting if the season is right. Music if he is in a good mood and Nico can convince him.

The silence that rings from the coast of Long Island to the bridge over the Savannah River is unbearable. Even the van is unbelievably quiet, rusted shocks creakless and ancient engine quiet as a grave. As if it too is straining to hear the words Will is murmuring, over and over again, nonstop for hours; hunched over with his hands clasped and pressed to the bridge of his nose.

Nico knows the Lord’s prayer in five languages. He hasn’t spoken it in years, but it’s stuck in his brain the same way as the alphabet; he knows the rhythm, the place of every breath, the rise and fall of the words as they crest towards the heavens. Prayers go unanswered at the best of times, trickling down the soil and bedrock and gathering in the currents of the Styx, but Will prays like he is programmed to do it. Like it is all he has left to do. They leave in the grey peak of the afternoon and drive through the night, and the kids sleep in the back, and Will prays across the freeways, over the bridges, through the gas stations, straight through traffic. His voice scratches and fades and he does not stop, the tears roll down his cheeks and bubble into his mouth and he does not stop, the twisted-in hymns glow along every peek of sunlight, burning his throat and his hands, and he does not stop. He prays like the dying in line to be judged, like the weeping shades along the stone walkways of Asphodel, like the desolate on the bank of the River. He prays like he knows it is already over, and he is desperate for the strength to move forward.

When they pull into the parking lot it is late morning, and Nico has been driving for fifteen hours, and the sun is cowering behind black dirt stormclouds, and the heat is as oppressively constant as the Pit. Nico feels like he is standing at the mouth of something cavernous. Staring down sharp teeth and a maw the size of an island. He feels like he is teetering, balancing, tipping; like the single point on the ground moments before lightning strikes it. Close your eyes and hold out your hands. What is coming next is inescapable.

“Do we go in?”

Kayla’s voice is timid. It is never timid, and it jolts his obliques and abdominis into action, into stretching. She holds hands with her brother, and they are pressed shoulder to shoulder, eyes wide, mouths set brave and trembling,

and they are pressed shoulder to shoulder

eyes wide

mouths set brave and trembling

his ankle is twisted around hers

her skull ring knicks the flesh of his ring finger

her hands are cool

her voice is steady

her body shakes.

Where are you taking us? We would like to go home, please. Can we call our mother?

“Let’s go find Mama,” Nico hears himself say. Sees Will’s hands twitch. Watches Kayla flinch in the rearview. Feels Austin’s leg bounce the van.

His mouth feels like sand, like worn denim. Dry, desert sand, desert sand; Nevada air through the open window.

“Mama,” Will echoes. He chokes. His whole body shudders, shudders, compresses; shrinks down, mouth still moving. Knuckles white. “Mama.”

Nico swallows.

“Kayla,” says his mouth, “take your brother to go pay parking.” Take your brother inside. Wait for me; I’ll be back soon. Don’t leave the hotel. “Here.”

He hands her his father’s card, and she takes it, untangling from Austin but keeping their hands joined when he grabs for her. The van door wrenches open because the tracks are rusty and Nico jumps with it, exhaling past Kayla’s muttered apologies, waiting for the two of them to climb out and hurry across the asphalt. Huddle at the parking meter, poking at the button.

Nico opens his door and climbs out, shutting it carefully, walking calmly around the front of the van. He opens Will’s door and it doesn’t move, locked, so it waits, and when Will makes no move to pull the little lever he reaches around the door Kayla left open, pulling it himself. The door swings widely open, bouncing slightly on its hinges, and Will doesn’t so much as flinch, doesn’t so much as glance towards it.

Nico reaches out, slowly, and takes his clenched hands.

They’re wet.

He peels back his clenched fingers, one by one, and they are stiff, formed to shape. He takes a moment to straighten them, carefully, slowly, until his palms rest upwards again, fingers limp. When he presses their palms together Will’s fingers twitch, ever so slightly, around his, and he drags their hands up to his mouth and presses his knuckles to his lips, tasting the salt, tasting the iron of his cracked chapped skin. Will’s hand twitches, again, and his face matches; contorting and crumpling and breaking, for a second.

“Will,” he murmurs, salt like the coast, like Nonna’s villa, like the water slide, “Will, look at me.”

He does. He looks to him like he’s dragging himself like he is clawing his own way upright.

“I can’t again,” he croaks, “I —” and he stops, or rather he is cut off, by the sob that fights it’s way out of his throat. It is sharp like skull fragments. Some part of Nico bleeds.

“You won’t.” He drops Will’s hand and clasps instead both sides of his face, pulling him down until their foreheads press tightly together, until their breathing shares the same space, until he can feel every shudder against his skull. “We will save her.”

As he says it Nico knows he will make it so. Kayla and Austin run back to the van, ticket clenched in both of their hands, Will squeezes his eyes shut and nods, once, before sitting straighter than he has in hours, and Nico knows that he will not let Will lose.

Not again.

———

#if anyone needs me i’ll be shouting about nico & austin parallels that i just made up for hours #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #will solace angst #nico di angelo angst #angst #solangelo #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #my writing #fic #longpost

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s-4pphics · 10 months

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dial. 4 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 5.5K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst, SMUT MDNI!!!!!, finger sucking!!!, voyeurism, dirty talk, lil assplay, squirting, spit, a lil breeding kink, sextape, masturbation, more porn mentions, bussing untouched, weed, dubcon bc alcohol, pov switches bc im experimenting :p

You returned to campus surprisingly high-spirited.

You were arriving to class fifteen minutes early, color-coding your notes, smiling and laughing with your friends even more than you used to before shit hit the fan! It scared the shit out of all of them since the last time they saw you, snot was coming out of your nose while you sobbed your eyes out.

Dina knocked on you and Niah’s front door the night before class with tears in her eyes, whimpering out about how terrible she felt and how she should’ve tried harder to steer you away from her best friend. Nothing was her fault; She did what anyone would, and you ignored it. She slept in your arms that night.

When you joyfully volunteered to pay for you and Niah’s fancy dinner upon returning to campus, she grilled you, demanding to know where this change of heart came from. As if you weren’t screaming about how much you hated these hoes on FaceTime a couple of weeks ago. All you could do is shrug and laugh some more, confirming that everything would be fine. She seemed a bit skeptical when she peered at you over her glass of wine.

Niah even volunteered to be angry with you. I’ll still beat her ass! I don’t care if you’re feeling better; I’m not! But you didn’t even want that. You developed a crush on somebody that’s a bad person, who just so happened to have amazing dick! Shit happens, and you’re over it. Sort of.

You still have something that you need to take care of before you close this chapter of your college career. And there’s only one person who’d be willing to help you out!

“… You want me to what.”

Your feet tapped nervously on Abby’s hardwood floor as she gawked at you, her body lax on her couch as smoke left her mouth in a large, pale cloud.

After Ellie exposed her and Abby’s history, you decided to pry. Abby seemed a bit confused at your eagerness to know about their relationship, but she provided some insight. They’re apparently not as close as you thought: they’ve been screwing on and off since freshman year after Abby’s partner cheated on her with someone dressed in a panda costume. What the fuck.

Abby is actually Riley’s best friend, who’s also Ellie and Dina’s really good friend whose also friends with someone named Kayla and your brain is fucking fried and you’re not even high! You don’t know any of these people!

Since when did snooping become this fucking confusing!

Your hands fiddled nervously, “Um… well, I mean— “

“Listen,” she snickered. “You seem nice, like really fuckin’ nice, but I dunno about this. Ellie’n I aren’t… best friends or anything but—”

“I know it sounds fucking crazy! I know!” Your arms flailed, “This is really outta character for me, but… she…”

Tears immediately jerked in your eyes as you recalled Ellie’s harsh words. This is the first time you’ve cried since you’ve been back, “She really hurt my fucking feelings. Don’t tell anyone I told you that, by the way! I just wanna…”

“Use me to get her back?” Abby concluded, leaning over to ash her joint.

You pouted, “… You make it sound so awful— “

“Well, I mean,” she snorted, offering you the remainder of the joint. You took it gratefully.

You spoke around your toke, “I dunno what else to do. I don’t know anything about her. The only time I saw her slightly out of character was at the fucking party!”

Abby hummed as she listened when you exhaled. She didn’t seem… entirely off put by your suggestion, but she hasn’t said much this entire conversation. She probably thought you came here for another reason based on her appearance. Ellie and Abby were surprisingly alike. They loved themselves some fucking grey sweatpants!

Moments of silence passed as she stared at the floor with her lip between her teeth, and you knew it was over. She was thinking of a way to kick you out politely. Not only was your one chance at karma destroyed, but you might’ve cost yourself a potential friendship with Abby! You’re bound to be walking out of here without the dignity you attempted to salvage in the next five seconds. Is it hot in here or is the bud getting to you quicker than expected—

“Run the plan by me one more time?”

You looked up at her, meeting the mischievous glint in her eyes. You choked on your last puff of the blunt and your brows raised in shock. Her index finger tapped on the back of the couch while you went through the run-down for the weekend.

She still hasn't said anything after your second explanation, and your body flushed hot in mortification. You threw in the towel with a heavy sigh.

“Abby, I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “I shouldn’t have thrown this on you. Apparently, I’m not good with strangers, either!”

You tried to mask your incoming breakdown with an awkward chuckle as you stood to leave, “Um… yeah. I’m sorry— “

“Alright.”

Your heart jerked in your chest.

“I’ll do it.”

“R-Really?”

“Mhm. Ellie never discounted when I picked up, anyway,” she spoke around her bite of a peach ring.

You leaped from the longue chair to the couch, squealing out thank you’s and throwing your arms around her neck. You felt her hand squeeze the plush on your hip, and you shuddered above her.

She grinned like a Cheshire and offered you her pinky.

“Our little secret?”

You smiled like a fox and laced yours with hers.

You don’t know when or how your balls dropped, but they were dangling and fucking huge.

Did you purposefully wear your Sunday best to the Starbucks that Ellie works at? Yes! Were your titties freezing on the way over here from the cut in your sweater dress? Abso—fucking—lutely! You received so many compliments from your peers during your sociology course, though!

Your heeled boots clanked on the tile with every step you took in the fast-paced line. You hoped Ellie could see you from the register!

It only took two minutes for you to be standing in front of the service counter, finally face-to-face with the first person you’ve ever plotted on.

“Morning…” you gazed down at her nametag, “Ellie.”

“… Mornin’,” Her eyes shifted, “Chai latte, extra mi—? “

You ignored the fluttering of your heart as she recited your order.

“Actually,” your tone was honey-sweet and your smile stretched across your cheeks, “I’d like a Java Chip Frap. Extra chocolate syrup… aaand…”

You pretended to study the menu board behind her, “A pack of Madeleines!”

She swallowed at the mention of her favorite munchie. You recall catching glimpses of her sneaking some into her pocket before her shift ended every other day.

She cleared her throat and stared at the screen in front of her, “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all!”

You scanned your student card while she wrote your name on your cup. You threw the most darling, pageant-ready have an amazing day, Ellie you could muster over your shoulder. You didn’t bother to wait for her reply before strolling to the pick-up line with a newfound pep in your step.

That was the best cold drink you’ve ever had!

Saturday came like a freight train. Today was the day.

Today was the fucking day!

You were absolutely terrified; You woke up with anxiety pooled in your gut, your mind racing with hundreds of questions.

What if something bad happens and all this plotting was for naught? What if Abby doesn’t show tonight? What if Ellie chose to just not attend the soccer house party for once? All this pent-up aggression inside you would never get released.

You rolled your black back seam stockings while Niah curled her hair.

“Is there a reason we're doing all this extra shit for a stingy party?” Niah asked as she removed her elastic band.

The second you returned home from Starbucks, you dragged Niah from her bed and into the mall. This would count as your monthly splurge (auntie slid you a few extra coins)! It was vital that you looked as sexy as possible, even if it meant putting a dent in your allowance.

“Can I not do the most for once?” Your brow arched, twiddling your fingers like an evil villain.

“You always do the fucking most,” Niah stared blankly as she curled her ends. You giggled and skipped over to where she sat at her desk.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You cheesed.

She rolled her eyes, “Get out my face with that gay shit, bruh— “

“I wanna kiss!”

“I dunno why you’re so excited. You know damn well that girl is gonna be there.”

Your smile widened. She looked up at your silence with a glare, her sharp liner slicing through you as she studied your face.

“Did y’all fucking make up?”

“Not at all,” you hummed.

She didn’t let up, her eyes squinting at you before they doubled in size.

“Oh my god…”

“What.”

“YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEBODY ELSE!” She sprung out of her desk seat, almost dropping her curling iron. “No wonder you’ve been acting so fucking weird— “

“What’s weird about being happ— “

She squealed in excitement, “Shut up! Who is it! Who’s tearing them organs up— “

“NIAH! Nobody’s tearing anythi— “

“CALL FROM: ABBY SMILING FACE WITH HEARTS SMILING FACE— “

Siri, followed by your ringtone, blared through your speaker.

Niah slowly peered over at your desk before looking back at you.

“… And who the fuck is Abby?”

By the look in her eye, she must’ve already known.

Oh fuck.

“U-Uh— “

Niah sprinted towards your desk before you could stop her, snatching your device and answering despite your anxious protests and grabs for it.

“Yes, hello. Are you smashing my— “

“NIAH! STOP!” You were able to wrangle your phone out of Niah’s grasp, speaking over her shouts of just two whores fornicating!

You could hear Abby snickering, “So much for a secret.”

“I’m sorry! I can't beat her intuition. Or Siri!”

“You’re cute,” Her voice was like butter, “Just checkin’ to see if we’re still on.”

Whores! Whores, I tell you! Boutta sweat my wig off! Niah hollered, finally resigning and leaning against your desk.

“Yeah, we are. Unless you don’t wanna— “

“Shut it. I want to.”

A shudder wracked through you at the drawl of her tone. Niah shook her head, and you bucked at her with a threatening stare.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon?”

“See you soon.”

The two of you gently farewelled and hung up. You turned to see Niah shamefully shaking her head at you.

“I’ve seen a lot of shit in my lifetime,” she started, “I’ve never, in all my years, seen anyone fuck their side piece’s side piece.”

… Were you really the only one who didn’t know that Ellie and Abby canoodled?

Your eyes rolled, “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

She reached behind her and grabbed two nips of 1800, tossing one in your direction, almost cracking you in the face with the plastic bottle.

“You’re gonna need that shit. Harlot.”

The soccer house was on one; They knew how to fucking throw a not-Christmas party!

You prayed with every fiber of your drunk being that the feds wouldn’t show up as you threw it back on Niah as Dina grabbed your titties. Tequila’s the devil and coaxes sluttery!

Drake always sounds more talented when you’re fucked up. Good on him!

Eyes were burning through your body and you showed out for them.

Until you felt your phone vibrate in your fucking bra you can’t have shit in this house! —

You irritatingly pulled it out of your bra, leaning on Dina’s shoulder to read your message from… Abby, oh fuck fuck fuck—

You smirked and searched the dark room for your new pretty friend. A moan almost left your throat when you saw her standing by the counter packed with liquor… in a muscle tee that read DO MILFS, NOT DRUGS. And a lollipop stick in her mouth.

Your brows furrowed in confusion when you locked eyes with Abby. She nodded behind you with a grin.

You peered over your shoulder and instantly regretted it.

Ellie was standing against the wall in a flannel and beanie, yet another girl pressed up against her while she smoked. And stared at you. Stared hard at you. Were those the eyes you felt seconds ago? Pride exploded in your chest at the thought.

… But how long has she fucking been standing there, and why didn’t you fucking notice? You’re never touching Tequila again!

You shot another text to Abby before shutting your phone off, watching her squeeze through the crowd to get over to your little group.

“Okay, baby?” Dina shouted in your ear over the music as she rubbed your back. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the blonde girl.

Abby popped up behind Dina, tapping her shoulder to greet the girl that was propping you up. Abby whispered something to her, and Dina’s grip loosened around your waist. You smiled when Abby presented in front of you, throwing your arms around her neck to keep yourself steady.

You barely heard Niah’s shouts of whore alert before Abby leaned down to connect your lips. The shots she had mixed with her cherry-flavored chapstick and apple lollipop as her mouth caressed yours, calls of oh shit from partygoers around you drowning your head. The attention made you kiss her deeper, your tongue easing into her mouth as people hooted around you.

Abby’s strong arms wrapped around your waist to hold you to her strong chest, her sneaky hands crawling down to grab your ass through your dress. You moaned into the kiss, lacing your fingers through her curled locks.

She tightened her hold on your hips and spun you, a thin line of drool connecting your lips before your back met her chest. You held onto a shocked Dina’s hips while you threw it on Abby, your back arched while she thrusted into your ass.

Niah, ever the sweetheart, slapped it encouragingly, your hips pushing further onto Abby until she grabbed your shoulder and hauled you back up, her large arm enclosing around your throat. You felt her messily kissing your neck and up your ear, and your eyes fluttered open.

Don’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllie—

You did everything in your power to ignore her harsh stare, pulling Niah’s hips back on yours, exposing more space on your neck for Abby to suck, anything anything anything! Don’t fucking look at her!

“Ready?” Abby shouted in your ear.

Thank god for Abby; You were this close to looking at her.

You nodded, and she whisked you upstairs after you blew your friends' kisses.

Why the fuck was Ellie fuming in this dark corner?

Not only did you blow the fuck out of her high, but you decided to do it with someone she considered a… she doesn’t fucking know. Someone close enough for it to feel like a betrayal!

And you looked so fucking sexy in the act.

The person chewing on her neck must think that the squirms she’s trying to cover are because of them. They weren’t, not when you’re around dancing like money is getting thrown all over you.

How did you manage to get her so fucking horny with absolutely no interaction? You looked at her once since you’ve arrived. She could bet every cent in her bank account that you’re a witch! The sluttiest, sex-obsessed witch with good pussy. Not to mention, you’re so fucking sweet.

Well, you used to be.

Ellie’s never seen this wild side of you. You’re always structured and organized and sweet like fucking honey. Somebody will get a cavity if they get too close to you. She can attest.

All she could do was watch you and Abby trek upstairs with interlocked hands, something nasty stabbing in her gut at the sight. She knows she’s a hypocrite. A disgusting, vile hypocrite with the audacity to feel negatively about you seeing someone else. She’s fucked up and she’s horny and she wants you. Fuck, you have such good pussy.

And the prettiest brown eyes. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck—

She hasn’t seen eyes that gorgeous since she fucking moved away for school. Since the last time she saw her.

Seconds, minutes, it felt like hours went by as she replayed every interaction the two of you have had since you met. Sex, sex, sex, you trying to get closer, her getting upset at you trying, sex. More good— great sex. You're pulling the leash you have on her with your cunt, for fucks sake.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing off to the side, but the person that fucked up her neck disappeared. Probably took too long to fucking react because she’s too busy thinking about how tight your cunt chokes her dick.

What the fuck were you and Abby doing? Ellie knows she’s a fucking hypocrite.

She pulls her device out of her pocket to ease her stress, but her stomach plummets when she sees a message from Abby.

Ellie’s such a fucking, goddamn hypocrite.

She forces herself through the crowd and scurries up the stairs like the floors on fire, ducking and dodging drunk students that were in her path until she stood at the top of the steps.

She instantly hears you over the booming bass. A choked scoff leaves her before anything, your pleased cries ringing through her eardrums like a church bell, and she almost loses it in the middle of the hallway. She’s getting so wet and your moans are getting higher in pitch and she knows you're about to cum. Why’s she out of breath and pissed and drenched to hell?

The door’s right there.

She takes a couple steps until she’s facing it, her hand resting on the knob. You always asked her to keep all entries open when she fucked you outside. You’re just as gross as she is.

One twist and it’s over.

She’s such a fucking hypocrite.

Whoever owns this bed is going to need a new mattress. You’ve never been this wet in your life.

Is it gross that staring into Ellie’s shocked, glossy eyes are making your pussy squeeze down on Abby’s dick? Even after all the bullshit she’s done, she still makes you drip like a faucet. Shame on you and your cunt.

S—it down, you whimpered, and Abby chuckled.

Abby’s harsh thrusts slowed when you cracked out your command, a harsh slap landing on your ass, and the arch in your back deepened. Ellie exhaled a harsh breath and shut the door behind her, her body falling against the wood due to her wobbling legs. The more you inspected her bruised chest, the angrier you became. Who was she trying to fuck now? A nasty smile grew on your face at the sight of her in complete disbelief.

Abby pulled out until just the tip was inside before slamming her entire length back into you, your jaw slackening when an oh, fuck escape you and Ellie. You hardly recognized your own voice.

Her eyes left yours and stared behind you, your core squeezing when her fists clenched at her sides and eyes darkened.

S-Sit down. Be a good girl’n sit d-down, you whimpered, your walls squeezing on the silicone.

She looked down at you again, her cheeks tinting a darker shade of red whenever you addressed her. Your glare hardened when she didn’t listen, and her body cowered, eyes sparkling before pushing herself off the wall and onto the small lounge chair at the front of the room so she was facing you.

Ellie’s hands were fiddling in her lap as she took the scene of you: liner and glitter running down your cheeks in a heap of tears, bruised neck and tits pressed against her friend’s ruffled sheets, your ass bruised to hell. She could see your slick and cum glistening on Abby’s cock under the dim lamp of the room. Her boxers were a mess.

Such a sexy little pornstar, isn’t she, El?

Ellie wanted to cry when you and Abby laughed lightly. This is the first time she’s been speechless when it came to anything related to fucking. She loves sex, but she’s always, always, in control no matter what. The lack of ability she had over the situation made her throat dry and clit throb. She’d never admit it, though.

W-Wanted t’make me a pornstar so bad? You spat shakily. You’re gonna sit there’n record Abby f-fucking me.

Ellie’s breathing increased at the demand. You always looked so fucking sexy on camera. A natural vixen, you are. She’s never been this wet. Fuck, fuck, please—

Take your phone out, El, Abby encouraged with a sly smirk, You know how wet this pussy gets on cam.

Ellie’s body didn’t feel like hers, like her soul was floating above her physical form. She heard the soft platplatplat of your ass clapping on Abby’s hips before she realized the two of you were fucking again, your loud cries chiming through the spacious area. Your pussy sounded so fucking wet.

Atta fuckin’ girl, tha’s my girl, c’mon, Abby groaned while she watched your cunt milk her dick. She would give anything to cum in you. See her cum flow out of you like water. Breed you fucking full.

She couldn’t take her eyes away from your ass. The movement of it was hypnotizing and it was bruising beautifully. She almost retrieved her own phone from her jean pocket to take a picture for herself. Almost.

Ellie’s arm moved on autopilot, her fingers digging in her pocket for her device. You caught a glimpse of the flashlight she accidentally turned on in your haze, and smiled, fucking back onto Abby to meet her thrusts. You kept your eyes on Ellie as she held her phone up, the quiet blip indicating that she was recording.

Your eyes flickered from Ellie’s heaving chest to the two small lenses in the corner of her phone, your back arching deeper so that she could get a good look at your ass rippling from each thrust. Your nails dug into the duvet every time Abby brushed against your cervix, her dick plunging into your squishy cunt.

S-She’s fucking me s’good, Ellie, fuuuck—

Your babbles were sloppy and nearly intelligible, mumbled together in a fast, wet muss of your tongue. You couldn’t think about anything except Abby’s dick and Ellie’s fucking camera. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back every time your eyes passed over the lens. Ellie was right; Maybe you were meant for porn.

Ellie… ugh, shit! C’merecomehere—

Ellie looked like a newborn deer trying to walk when she got up and stood directly in front of your sweaty, fucked out form. Her camera was right in front of your face, and a hazy, drooly smile made its way onto your face. You could feel your impending orgasm sizzling all the way down to your toes.

M’gonna squirt, fuck, thinkI’mgonnasquirt!—

Both girls moaned aloud at your squealed warning, Ellie’s thighs squeezing right in front of your face. Her hands were shaking around her phone and… her fucking hands are so sexy—

Your pussy was in agreement; The squelching sounds of your wet walls got louder with your moans, your screams flying off the walls with Abby’s, your eyes glued on Ellie’s long fucking fingers and the veins in her hands—

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and licked over all four of the digits clenched over her device. She squealed in shock but you didn’t care, pulling away with your tongue out like a dog, eyes begging for her to fuck your throat with them.

Ellie held her phone with her dominant hand and dragged two wet fingers over the flat of your tongue, angling her phone so that the way your throat closed around them was captured. Ellie was whimpering to herself and desperate to fucking cum. Was she crazy or was she about to nut from you gagging and drooling all over your hand? She’s crazy; She has to be fucking crazy—

Her walls were squeezing so hard in her jeans; She might actually fucking cum. She’s a goner, fuck fuck fuck—

Milk her fingers like you're milking this dick, baby, that’s it, Abby moaned out before releasing a line of drool on your ass and rubbing it in with her thumb. You choked around Ellie’s thrusting fingers, eyes crossing in your head while your pussy cried. And squeezed so hard, Abby almost couldn’t move. You felt your juices leave you in a light spray as Abby announced her orgasm, squealing about how swollen you’re going to be with her cum. You’re cumming, you’re cumming so fucking hard—

Your head dropped onto the edge of the mattress, Ellie’s spit coated fingers ripping from your mouth and you screamed, your cum drenching the bed and Abby’s dick and waist, your clit jumping with every pulse of your walls. You couldn’t keep yourself upright any longer, falling completely flat onto the bed as your body thrashed from pleasure you could hardly bear. Abby’s body laid flat on top of yours so she could force her dick deeper into you, fuck more cum out of you and milk the last bit of her orgasm.

You sobbed from the intensity, but Abby didn’t stop until your hand flew back to push her off you. She planted one wet kiss on the back of your neck before gently pulling out. Your thighs were still shaking and your clit was twitchy, but you felt so good.

And so much better.

It took a minute for your teary eyes to peel open. Ellie was crouched down on the floor with her knees to her chest, heavy breaths and light whines leaving her mouth while her lashes fluttered.

Abby chuckled behind you, landing one playful smack on your ass before leaning over your form to whisper in your ear.

Think she came when you did, She snickered.

A breathy giggle left you. Ellie couldn’t meet your eyes, hers glued to the hardwood.

Your auntie was right; Maybe revenge was the way to go.

You shut the bathroom door and made your way back to the bedroom, where a dazed Ellie was sitting on the bed.

Abby left with a see you soon and a kiss on the cheek, leaving you and Ellie alone to suffocate in silence. She looked lost in thought as her finger tapped on her thigh, her teeth digging into the dry skin of her lip. You breathed heavily before walking to tower over her.

“I want you to send me the video,” you spoke stoically, nothing bothering to wait for her to speak.

She nervously met your eyes for the first time since you orgasmed, eyes glossy like a puppy getting scolded, before grabbing her phone from where she tossed it on the bed. She shakily tapped a few times before your device vibrated in your hand.

“Now delete it. Delete everything. Every video, every Snap. All of it,” your voice was sharper than a blade.

You loomed over her as she scrolled through all of your memories together, your cheeks warming at the sound of your moans and cries of her name, watching closely as she trashed all the footage of the two of you fucking since you met.

Whenever you were confident that no evidence remained, you ensured she would never hit your line again.

“Block me, Ellie. On everything.”

She exhaled shakily before doing so on every platform and line of communication. You spun on your heel when she finished without another word, heart heavy, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you to retreat back to the lively environment downstairs.

You deleted Ellie’s contact information when you reached the bottom of the steps.

Ellie was absolutely distraught. And the horniest she’s ever been in her fucking life.

She refused to move from her spot on the bed until a couple shoved into her friend’s room, eager to rip each other’s clothes off. She had too little and enough sex for tonight. She cringed when she got up and felt her cum squishing in her boxers.

… She can’t believe she busted from just your tongue on her hand like a fucking loser.

She didn’t bother to wait for Jesse and the rest of the soccer team like normal, opting to walk home and regain some peace of mind. The cold shocked her body when she stepped outside of the packed house, the melting ice crunching under her sneakers.

Much to her dismay, she thought about you the entire stroll. Her mind raced, flooding with images of you getting absolutely destroyed by Abby. And looking up at her while you sucked the life out of her fingers. And your sparkly fucking eyes whenever you laughed at something stupid and unfunny she said.

She fucked up, she fucked up so bad.

Anxiety was stirring in her gut all the way up to her and Jesse’s apartment.

Ellie hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at her when everyone returned to campus, but she felt vicious, unfiltered rage radiating off your body when you loomed over her. The disappointment she was so used to seeing after turning you down was replaced by disdain, and it made bile rise in her throat. Your composure used to impress her, but now she was terrified of it.

You actually fucking hated her.

Dina mentioned how she might’ve awakened something that you tried to keep hidden, but she didn’t care enough to listen.

Ellie didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, but she did want to keep you at a distance. You were caught in a crossfire you never needed to be in, and she didn’t do enough to stop you from getting hit.

She sees so much of her past in you. The moments of eagerness and joy and elation she felt in her younger years, it all crashed into her the second she stared into your eyes for too long. She almost saw roses blooming in them. She grew to despise your optimism very quickly.

Ellie shoved her key so hard into their door she thought she bent it, ripping it open and slamming it shut. All her weight fell against the wall and she sighed. Her head was pounding and so was her clit.

You’re so fucking hot. What the fuck.

Her hands ran down her face in exasperation before she kicked her shoes off, unbuttoning and removing her jeans and soaked boxers.

She slid down the door and squatted, her fingers instantly finding her twitching clit. She sighed at the sensation before dipping her digits lower, pushing past her entrance and collecting her juices to bring back to her rosy bud. She alternated between rubbing and fucking into herself, moaning into the dark space of the living room.

She couldn’t unsee… you. Everything about you. Your scars, the dark hairs of your furrowed brows, your plump, wet lips slobbering all the way down her wrists. The deeper she reached, the hotter she became, her sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead.

A-Abby, fuck me h-harder, please?

Am I a good girl? M’your good girl?

M’so wet, oh god!

You fuck me t-the best! Yeah, yes yeah—

Your voice was the only thing ringing through her empty brain. Anyone would’ve been embarrassed, disgusted, traumatized by what you and Abby did. The two of you shattered her completely, breaking down every barrier she built for herself for so long. Distance was no longer her priority; She wanted to be in between the two of you so fucking bad.

She was already so close, so close to tipping over, to wetting her fucking floor, all because of you. Fuck, she fucked up; Was it too late to tell her you were the best— one of the best she’s ever had? She has to protect her pride somehow, even if it’s pointless.

She dug into her cunt harder, grinding her fingers into the spot that made her see stars, sent her to fucking heaven. Your name left her mouth in an almost manic cry, whimpering the syllables over and over again until she crashed, legs closing around her wrist when her pleasure shook her form. She shoved three unoccupied fingers into her mouth and swallowed around them, fucking her throat and her cunt at the same time, trying to replicate the feeling of your tongue on her again.

She almost cried when the sensation wasn’t the same. Nothing felt like your mouth, your tongue, and it sent a painful jolt in her heart.

She came down and finally allowed her tears to fall, barely having the strength to ride out the last bits of her pleasure before she slumped onto the floor. Sobs escaped her in choked gasps. She’s a fucking idiot to be crying over you. Over the little twinkles in your eyes whenever you’re excited.

Ellie’s a heartless, ungrateful hypocrite, and she ruined her billionth chance at redemption.

ellie got bitched LMMMFAOOOOO

this is not a love triangle!!! or is it

jk its not lol

taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka @aouiaa @lastofvenus

teaser, one, two, three, five

#fratadjacent!ellie #works 𖧧࣪#ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x black!oc #black!oc #black!reader #the last of us #lesbian #abby anderson smut #Spotify

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tonyspank · 1 year

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HEART 2

Summary: Rumours spread like wildfires and you have to convince the ex-pirate that you’re not such a bad person.

Warnings: Idek!

A/N: she’s so cute

Words: 2.0k

Tara Carpenter x Female! Reader

PART ONE

It was a calm Friday evening, the wind was blowing, the street lines were on and you were walking down the slightly busy paths of Blackmore University. With Chad, of course.

You two had just finished football practice, and it had been three days since the Halloween party. Chad was sweaty, his grey Nike compression shirt had a dark stain on the back, while, you were completely dry.

And the only reason you were was because you had gotten in trouble with your coach about your actions at the party. Should Chad also have been in trouble, yes. Did you take the blame for him, yes.

For your coach, the story was that you had started an altercation with Frankie, turning into a fight which led to Chad jumping in to separate it, which only lead to him getting hit in his nose.

There had also been stories going around about how Sam Carpenter, the 'mastermind' behind last year's killings in Woodsboro tased you. Saying that they wouldn't expect less from a murderer.

"Are you excited to see Tara?" Chad teases, bumping your shoulder with his fist. You shake your head as a small laugh leaves your mouth.

"About that..." Chad furrows his eyebrows, "Don't tell me she cancelled your date."

Now it's your turn to furrow your eyebrows, you turn your head to Chad, no longer watching the path in front of you. "Date?! What do you mean date!"

"What do you mean, what do I mean date?!" He says, repeating your words even louder. "It was never a date?" You state, confused.

Was it a date? Tara had given you another note the day after the party, asking you to meet her at a park not too far from the university.

"Y/N! Why would it not be a date!"

You shrug your shoulders, "I don't know!"

Chad lets out a loud groan, slapping his forehead with his free hand, "If a girl gives a note. Right?" You nod at his words and he continues, "And it says HEART, right?" You nod again, but slower.

"Then it flipping means it's a date. She put heart, twice! Not once, but TWICE!"

You stop walking. Chad also stops, and you can't help but mutter, "Fuck!" You throw your head back, continuing to walk. "It was a fucking date. But I'm not ready for a date, I mean I am!— I don't wanna end up hurting her or I just!—"

Chad stops your rambling, "I know that you're scared to date again, but Tara's not Kayla, Y/N. And she doesn't even watch football, she watches futbol, so I highly doubt she even knows who you are."

You bite on your lip, "Actually... I think she does." Chad turns his head to you, "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday... I was walking and I called out Tara's name and she sent me the meanest glare I've ever seen in my entire life. And I think I know why."

"Why?" You pull out your phone, showing Chad the articles they had written about her sister and you.

"Y/N Y/L/N attacks someone at a frat party, shortly after that the star receiver is assaulted by Sam Carpenter, a born serial killer. The victim says they were scared for their life once seeing Carpenter lift a weapon." He reads, confused. "Wait? What? You didn't even make a statement about what happened?"

"Exactly! And I didn't even physically see Sam lift a weapon, I just felt it." You say nonchalantly shrugging it off.

"Tara probably thinks you did make that statement." He mumbles, "We gotta go see her." Chad picks up his pace, and you can't do anything but follow him confused. "Wait! You mean now?" You shout out, jogging after the fast-walking athlete.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" You ask Chad, he had just knocked on the door of the Carpenter-Bailey apartment. Chad stares ahead waiting for the door to be opened, "Of course. Just hide a bit."

You step out of the view of the peephole, "Oh. Okay?" A few more seconds pass and there are multiple clicks heard before the door opens.

"Chad, hey?" You hear Sam say. "Hi! Is Tara here?" Sam steps aside, showing Tara sitting down on the couch, along with Mindy.

"Hey, sis!" Chad waves, he then proceeds to grab you by your shoulders guiding you in front of him and into the apartment. Sam's slight smile leaves her face, along with Tara and Mindy's.

"What is she doing here?" Sam asks, obviously upset by the fact that you're standing in her apartment. "She's here to explain."

You send everyone a nod and wave, "Uh, yeah. Um, I didn't actually say those things... I didn't even make a statement. I only talked to my coach and I never even mentioned that you tased me, I just said that I got into an altercation with Frankie. Then I took the fall for Chad." You announce to everyone present, Chad nods his head agreeing with your words.

"Exactly! So whoever wrote that article lied. Who wrote it by the way?" Chad then asks you, you pull out your phone and pull up the article searching for the publisher's name.

"It says," You drag out, "Um. Kayla Burke."

Tara scoffs from the couch, "Wait, what? Are you serious?" Chad doesn't even let you answer him before he snatches the phone, and it indeed says, Kayla Burke.

"What the fuck!"

"Wait, who's Kayla Burke?" Mindy questions and Sam nods, wanting to know as well.

"Kayla Burke is Y/N's ex-girlfriend." Mindy's mouth turns into an 'O' shape, and she lets out an "Ohhh! The one that cheated on you, right?"

You take in a breath, looking at the ground and then at Chad who speaks up for you almost immediately, "Mindy. Not right now." The twin holds up her hand in surrender, Sam steps up voicing her input. "So, are you going to make a statement? To get all these rumours situated?"

You quickly nod, "Yes, I can ask my coach about it so that you're not thrown under the bus." You can almost see Sam visibly relax, "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't know people would say things like that."

"It's not completely your fault, I'm sorry for tasing you." You wave her off, "Already forgotten."

"So you're just going to take the blame for everything that happened at that party?" Mindy asks you with squinted eyes, it was clear she didn't trust you or just didn't believe you had a clear motive.

"I mean? Yeah? I'm already in deep shit for even fighting Frankie, so if it helps Sam clear her name, why not?" You shrug.

Mindy unbelievably nods at your words causing you to slump your shoulders.

"Tara," Her head lifts at your voice. "Can we talk?" She stares at you, waiting for you to speak.

"Um," You look around the room, all eyes on you. "Alone?" You feel Sam's eyes staring into the side of your head. "Just downstairs, please?"

Tara gets up, and walks out the door, not even looking back to see if you were following her or not. You give everyone one last look along with a tight-lipped smile, before following Tara who's seated at the end of the stairs.

You plop down beside her with a sigh, "Hey."

Her eyes stare into yours, and you can practically see the mental battle she's having with herself. She doesn't know if she can trust you, not after reading the articles about her sister and you.

And after reading the article about only you, after figuring out you were some sort of big deal to the school, she looked your name up. She found out about your ex-girlfriend and Frankie, and she believes you only helped her at the party to get back at Frankie in some way.

She also believes that you're a dickhead due to the leaked DM's people have posted of you into multiple 'Stab' subreddits.

But what she doesn't know is that you didn't want to get back at Frankie, you wanted to help her. She also doesn't know that those DM's are fake, and you don't even have any social media to direct message, anyone.

And she doesn't know the fact that you didn't know your hangout was supposed to be a date, not just a friendly get-together.

"Hey." She replies, leaning against the rail beside her. "I'm sorry about what Kayla said about your sister. I didn't even know she was back in journalism."

"Is it true about what you said about that girl?" You furrow your eyebrows at her question, "What?"

"You said something about Amber Freeman last month, right?" You shake your head, confused.

"Amber Freeman?" You say though it says more like a question. "You were texting people about Amber Freeman and how she was the peak of the ghost faces, and she deserved to get away with it."

"Tara—" She interrupts you, continuing. "Amber Freeman was my best friend, well, I thought she was until she tried to kill me. First, she stabbed me seven times, then broke my leg. And Chad, stabbed him seven times as well. So, you'd prefer to see her get away with stabbing your best friend?"

You swallow your spit, not looking away from the hard stare Tara was giving you. "Tara... I never wrote any of those DM's."

Tara's face falls, but she doesn't say anything letting you proceed to talk. "I used to live in Woodsboro and people found out, so of course they wanted me to get involved in all that Ghostface shit, but I never said anything about Amber or anything else about Ghostface."

You chuckle to yourself, "I don't even have any social media to text stuff like that."

"Well, shit." She mutters, "I'm so sorry—"

"It's okay, I have a question though." She furrows her eyebrows, "What is it?"

"Was our hangout tomorrow supposed to be a date?" Tara's face heats up, "Um. I don't— If you wanted it to?" She stutters out, a smile on her face as she finishes.

She looked so cute when she was flustered.

"I think I do want it to be a date now."

"Now?" You stand up from the stairs, holding out a hand. "What about before?" Tara grabs your hand, standing up with you.

"Y/N! What'd you think before!" She yells out after you as you walk up the steps.

You can't help but laugh at the girl.

She stops you from opening the door by grabbing your arm, forcing you to face her. "What'd you think before!"

"Wow! You really hate being out of the loop." Her smile increases, "There's a loop? More people know about this?" You laugh.

As your laugh dies down, you inspect the shorter girl's face in front of you, who smiles up at you, her dark freckles scattered across her face, and her deep dimples prominent in her smile. Along with those pink plum lips you can't help but stare at, noticing this she licks them, and you look back at her eyes, only to find them staring back with a steady gaze.

"Has anyone told you that you have a cute face," Tara whispers, you chuckle, she probably doesn't even know what she just told you as she's so caught up in the moment. Her hand reaches to your face, trailing over all of your features before lingering on your cheek.

Your heart was pounding, and you were almost scared that Tara might've heard it herself. You began leaning in slowly, drawing your lips closer to hers, she felt so warm and inviting.

Her lips part slightly, and she closes her eyes leaning in with you, you could feel her breath on your lips until you finally connected them.

At first, the kiss was soft and delicate, inside your stomach felt like a sanctuary for butterflies, but on the outside, it felt like fireworks going off, your hands found her waist, deepening the kiss and earning a slight noise from the ex-pirate.

In Tara's mind, she found herself already addicted. You and this kiss were so intoxicating, and she knew once it ended, she'd want it to be repeated.

You pulled away, and Tara shamelessly chased your lips, you chuckle. "Does that answer how I felt before?"

"No, you might need to tell me again."

Your smile, pulling her back into another kiss.

#reader insert #jenna ortega x reader #wattpad #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #scream 6 #scream #fem!reader

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newobsessioneveryweek · 11 months

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A fun thing I thought of: TOA Edition

Month you were born

Jan - I booped [...]'s nose

Feb - I stole a shoe from

Mar - I stole candy from

Apr - I ticked

May - I challenged [...] to a duel

June - I visited my wrath upon

July - I attacked

Aug - I hugged

Sept - I bullied

Oct - I cursed

Nov - I complained about

Dec - I threw [...] across the room

Day you were born

Hemithia

Will Solace

The Meliae

Austin Lake

Nico di Angelo

Apollo

Nero

Kayla Knowles

Leo Valdez

Piper McLean

Meg McCaffrey

Georgie

Percy Jackson

Calypso

Zeus

Artemis

Hazel Levesque

Frank Zhang

Grover Underwood

Jason Grace

Commodus

Thalia Grace

Python

Annabeth Chase

Medea

The Arrow of Dodona

Caligula

Rachel Elizabeth Dare

The Sybil of Erythaea

Crest the pandos

Colour of your shirt

Red - Because I'm compromised

Orange - Because my horoscope predicted I would so I couldn't just NOT do it

Yellow - Because I have no impulse control

Green - Naked

Blue - Because I wanted to see what would happen

Purple - Because the planets were aligned

Black - Because they deserved it

White - Because my emotions got the better of me

Grey - Because I thought it would be funny

2 colours - In order to secure the bag

3+ colours - Because I was told not to

Unsure - Because fear could not stop me

Striped - Because Hermes dared me to

Polka dot - Because I'm a good person

Floral - because I am an incurable scoundrel

Print (other) - Because I'm a bad person

Sequins - Because I am controlled by the unbridled rage that courses through my veins

Graphic - As a convoluted form of risk management

Bonus matching pants: ...and because I've always wanted to do that

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f1rstime · 1 month

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⩇⩇:⩇⩇ BITE ME ! ꒰ ❛ TWILIGHT GOES TO THE MET ! ❜ ꒱

Angelico's newest boy group sensation, Twilight, makes its shocking but impactful Met Gala debut just four months after its smash debut in January. Three members picked by Anna Wintour herself, London, Grayson, and Ambrose, stunned on the Met Gala carpet in custom suits made by their stylists, Bae Jina and Kayla Grey; the boys made quite an impact for not only their fashion but also their charm.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇ BITE ME ! ꒰ ❛ NOTABLE MOMENTS ! ❜ ꒱

The camera flashes seemed too much for Grayson, causing him to shut his eyes midway through the red carpet and hold up a peace sign, hoping for the best. The other boys were too amused by this, giggling and skipping on the carpet.

During their interview with Emma Chamberlin, Ambrose's influencer past got brought up again.

"I swear I know you from somewhere that's not Kpop. Did you do something before the group?" Emma asks innocently. Grayson and London snicker behind Ambrose as he begins to get flustered, laughing nervously into the microphone with a slow shake of his head. "Uh...Nothing really!" He tries to lie but Grayson shakes his head, patting Ambrose's back as London tries to collect himself, still giggling. "He was really famous on musically. Not even Tiktok-" "Musically?!" Emma gawks. Grayson nods. Ambrose covers his face with a single hand as London pats his shoulders. "That's where you've seen him. Lip-syncing his little heart out." Grayson clearly had a knack for embarrassing his bandmates.

The picture of London and Tyla went viral for their insane ass visuals side by side. The video of London fangirling after he met Tyla also went viral for how cute he reacted, cheering ear to ear and covering his face as Tyla walked away.

"Yeah, almost the whole family is here! Nepotism is crazy!"—Grayson Lee, Met Gala Interview 2024.

#⩇⩇:⩇⩇ development #idol oc #kpop oc #idolverse #ficnetfairy #fictional idol community #bts addition #fake kpop group #fake kpop idol #fictional kpop community #fictional kpop group #idol addition #kpop addition

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 7 months

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Queer Books November 2023

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

❤️ The Pirate and the Porcelain Girl by Emily Riesbeck 🧡 Heading North by Holly M. Wendt 💛 The Wisdom of Bug by Alyson Root 💚 Trick Shot by Kayla Grosse 💙 A Holly Jolly Christmas by Emily Wright 💜 Outdrawn by Deanna Grey ❤️ Yours Celestially by Al Hess 🧡 The Christmas Memory by Barbara Winkes 💛 Violet Moon by Mel E. Lemon 💙 The Santa Pageant by Lillian Barry 💜 Only for the Holidays by Shannon O’Connor 🌈 Homestead for the Holidays by Wren Taylor

❤️ You Can Count on Me by Fae Quin 🧡 No One Left But You by Tash McAdam 💛 The Worst Thing of All is the Light by José Luis Serrano, Lawrence Schimel 💚 Today Tonight Forever by Madeline Kay Sneed 💙 Wren Martin Ruins It All by Amanda DeWitt 💜 Emmett by L. C. Rosen ❤️ Finding My Elf by David Valdes 🧡 Tonight, I Burn by Katharine J. Adams 💛 Gorgeous Gruesome Faces by Linda Cheng 💙 Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree 💜 A Power Unbound by Freya Marske 🌈 We Are the Crisis by Cadwell Turnbull

❤️ The Manor House Governess by C.A. Castle 🧡 You Owe Me One, Universe by Chad Lucas 💛 Last Night at the Hollywood Canteen by Sarah James 💚 Skip!: A Graphic Novel by Rebecca Burgess 💙 Something About Her by Clementine Taylor 💜 Touching the Art by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore ❤️ A Nearby Country Called Love by Salar Abdoh 🧡 Normporn: Queer Viewers and the TV That Soothes Us by Karen Tongson 💛 Sir Callie and the Dragon’s Roost by Esme Symes-Smith 💙 The Order of the Banshee by Robyn Singer 💜 Once Upon My Dads’ Divorce by Seamus Kirst, Noémie Gionet Landry 🌈 Forsooth by Jimmy Matejek-Morris

❤️ A Common Bond by T.M. Kuta 🧡 Risk the Fall by Riley Hart 💛 Just a Little Snack by Yah-Yah Scholfield 💚 Home for the Holidays by Erin Zak 💙 NeurodiVeRse by MJ James 💜 Dark Heir (Dark Rise #2) by C.S. Pacat ❤️ sub/Dom by Rab Green 🧡 Bitten by the Bond by Elaine White 💛 Heir to Frost and Storm by Ben Alderson 💙 The Sea of Stars by Gwenhyver 💜 Bad Beat by L.M. Bennett 🌈 Idol Moves by K.T. Salvo

❤️ Plot Twist by Erin La Rosa 🧡 In the Pines by Mariah Stillbrook 💛 The Crimson Fortress (The Ivory Key #2) by Akshaya Raman 💚 Only She Came Back by Margot Harrison 💙 Megumi & Tsugumi, Vol. 4 by Mitsuru Si 💜 Pritty by Keith F. Miller Jr. ❤️ Just Lizzie by Karen Wilfrid 🧡 An Atlas to Forever by Krystina Rivers 💛 Come Find Me in the Midnight Sun by Bailey Bridgewater 💙 Bait and Witch by Clifford Mae Henderson 💜 Shadow Baron by Davinia Evans 🌈 Day by Michael Cunningham

❤️ Livingston Girls by Briana Morgan 🧡 Delay of the Game by Ari Baran 💛 The Nanny with the Nice List by K. Sterling 💚 A Talent Ignited by Suzanne Lenoir 💙 A Kiss of the Siren’s Song by E.A.M. Trofimenkoff 💜 Rivals for Love by Ali Vali ❤️ Whiskey & Wine by Kelly Fireside, Tana Fireside 🧡 Buried Secrets by Sheri Lewis Wohl 💛 Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis 💙 Living for You by Jenny Frame 💜 Death on the Water by CJ Birch 🌈 Merciless Waters by Rae Knowles

❤️ Vicarious by Chloe Spencer 🧡 Sapling’s Depths by Spencer Rose 💛 That French Summer by Sienna Waters 💚 System Overload by Saxon James 💙 King of Death by Lily Mayne 💜 Warts and All by Ashley Bennett ❤️ Principle Decisions by Thea Belmont 🧡 The Best Mistake by Emily O’Beirne 💛 Sugar and Ice by Eule Grey 💙 Until The Blood Runs Dry by MC Johnson 💜 Splinter : A Diverse Sleepy Hollow Retelling by Jasper Hyde 🌈 The Mischievous Letters of the Marquise de Q by Felicia Davin

❤️ The Queer Girl is Going to be Okay by Dale Walls 🧡 Til Death Do Us Bard by Rose Black 💛 Leverage by E.J. Noyes 💚 Alice Sadie Celine by Sarah Blakley-Cartwright 💙 Godly Heathens by H.E. Edgmon 💜 Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher ❤️ To Kill a Shadow by Katherine Quinn 🧡 Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa 💛 For Never & Always by Helena Greer 💙 A Demon’s Guide to Wooing a Witch by Sally Hawley 💜 Heaven Official’s Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu Vol. 8 by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù 🌈 A Carol for Karol by Ann Roberts

#book release #queer fiction #queer romance #queer books #queer #books #books to read #queer book recs #book recs #batty about books #battyaboutbooks

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hypnotiiize · 1 year

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𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺

𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: i got this idea at the literal last minute so i wrote this in a day which is literally unprecedented for me so YOU RLLY JUST GOTTA DEAL W ME IM SAWRY

He’d been standing in the aisle for fifteen full minutes before he finally huffed and widened his arms, sweeping up as many gifts as he could manage.

He peered over the mountain of presents with one keen eye, struggling his way over to the cashier. The seventeen-year-old there just blinked at him warily, too tired from figuring out Calculus to be amused by him. He bent at his waist, his lips pressed into a line as he carefully laid everything on the black conveyer belt.

The seventeen-year-old’s eyes darted from the man to everything he’d laid out, her lips a little turned up as she asked dryly, “Is that all?”

Richarlison hadn’t heard the bite in her tone, too busy questioning if he’d gotten enough to make the woman on his mind happy. “Yes!”

“Great.” She grabbed a heart-shaped box and pushed it past the scanner.

Richarlison only processed her words just as she’d scanned the very first teddy bear. “Do you think it’s enough?” he asked unsurely, positive that the teenage girl would know more about love and gift-giving than him.

The girl, Kayla by the looks of her nametag, scoffed in return.

Richarlison’s eyes widened as he assumed the worst. A scoff could mean nothing good. “No?”

“I mean,” the girl backtracked at the dread in his voice. She shrugged. “It depends on how many girlfriends you have. If you have about six, you should be fine,” she quipped, shaking her head at the Ain’t Shit nature of even the most handsome, tall, and brooding of men.

Richarlison shook his head cluelessly. “But… I don’t have a girlfriend.” Did he have to have a girlfriend?

Kayla’s hands paused on a stuffed turtle. “You don’t? Then why are you getting all this stuff? Not that it’s my business, I’m just really nosy,” she added sincerely, glancing to him as she scanned the special edition Twizzlers.

He had to fight to catch his breath at the thought of his valentine. “It’s for my,” he paused for five long seconds, contemplating his relationship (or lack thereof) with the woman of his dreams. The balls of his cheeks were pink when he finally said, “Friend.”

“Yeah, it’s for your… friend,” replied the seventeen-year-old, making a show of hesitating just as long as he did. His bashful gaze fell on a stuffed elephant as he nodded. “Well, if it’s just for one friend, this is more than enough. It might even classify as wealth hoarding if you get anything more.”

Whatever that meant.

“I’m not sure what she would like,” he confessed in a murmur, gnawing on his lip.

Kayla shrugged. “Just call her and ask.”

“I can’t do that!” he rasped quickly, a little shocked that she had even suggested such a thing. “I have to surprise her. She has to be surprised,” he whispered the second bit to himself, definitive in his conclusion.

Kayla shrugged again. “Well, then, these are fine. She’s gotta like one of ‘em.”

“I hope so,” he breathed.

“I hope so, too, random man. I hope so, too.”

On his way home, as he juggled three large bags, he watched a man stop at a vendor on the sidewalk. The man, whose greyed tufts of hair protruded from underneath his Kangol hat, was beaming as he communicated with the seller. Richarlison watched as the man gently lifted a bouquet of carnations and then strolled away, stopping beside a woman before kissing her on the cheek and handing her the flowers. The woman gasped deeply with joy, and suddenly Richarlison was making a beeline toward that very vendor.

He was contemplating holding the bouquet of flowers in between his teeth when he spotted a baby in a store holding the gift– the very one that he knew he had to get for the woman. He had to walk through the front door sideways to fit, and still, he was not deterred; he navigated his way through the aisles easily, finding the present he knew was hers and even some that caught his eye. By the time Richarlison reached his home, his wallet had lost a considerable amount of weight and he was holding seven shopping bags.

He was sure it was worth it.

She found him on his street just as the sun began to set, handing out valentines to anyone that would walk his way. He smiled sweetly at her as she sauntered to his side, her own smile uncontrollable as she watched him hand a little girl a teddy bear.

“What, the whole neighborhood’s your valentine?” She laughed as she wrapped her arm around his torso in a hug.

He reminded himself not to blush at the heat her presence generated in his chest, his heart dancing to her the familiar beat that her proximity brought on. “Well, some people don’t have valentines,” he said after a second, regarding the nature of the holiday. “So... I guess so!”

(Plus he had about two hundred dollars worth of merchandise that would’ve gone bad after sifting for the gifts he wanted to give her, but it would take him years to tell her just how much he’d splurged that day.)

She craned her neck to make eye contact with him, and he was sure his heart stopped right there. “You’re really sweet,” she praised quietly, just for him to hear.

He was begging himself not to blush. “So are you.”

“Wait, speaking of sweet,” she began, moving away from him to open her purse. He mourned what was once her presence as she said, “I have a lil’ something for you.”

He had a lot of something for her, but– and his inner voice stumbled over itself in his head at this– not in that way. Unless–? No, no, not in that way.

“Don’t feel bad if you didn’t get me anything.”

He got her Target’s whole catalog but he was currently giving it away.

“Here.”

She placed a white box in his hands and just before he opened it, Richarlison could only feel grateful for the text he’d gotten yesterday from one of his ever-prying teammates, asking who his Valentine was, as he may have forgotten altogether.

He lifted the top and found himself staring at lightly-dusted squares of what he predicted was bread. She leaned closer to peer inside the box with him.

“They’re beignets. You ever had one?” she asked goodnaturedly.

“No, I haven’t,” his voice threatened to crack with his reply as he became overwhelmed with the fact that she had thought of him– on a day like that, no less. He would wonder, later, what that could possibly mean, though at that moment he had to remain as stoic as possible lest he expose the fact that he was head over heels for her.

He eyed the treat she’d given him, humming as he realized that they reminded him of something. “They’re like from that movie… Sapo, sapo,” he repeated softly under his breath, his mind racing to recall the word in English.

Her grin broadened as her eyebrows raised. “Are you talking about The Princess and the Frog?”

“I think so.”

“Well, does it have a princess and a frog? A little green guy?”

“Yes!”

“That’s the one! Rich, I love that movie! What you know about that?!”

“My sisters and cousins really liked it,” he explained.

“That’s what I was thinking of when I made you these,” she noted, laughing sweetly as she tapped on the top of the box with the pad of her finger.

His chest hurt from his heart beating so quickly. “You made these?” he asked after a moment, pausing to ensure that he had cleared the nerves from his voice.

“I made them,” she confirmed proudly.

He was having trouble catching his breath. “For me?”

“For you.”

Don’t faint, don’t faint.

She pressed on upon the lack of response from Richarlison, gesturing wildly with her hands as she spoke, “I was kinda bored and I was like ‘hm, I wonder what Rich is doing’ and then I realized that it was about to be Valentine’s Day, so I was like let me be nice to him real quick and– oh my God?”

Her confused words had been muttered against the fabric of Richarlison’s sweater after he’d wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest in a quick motion– way too quick for her to duck back, as he was sure she would. Richarlison was sure she could hear how fast his heart was pumping. He himself could hear his heartbeat reverberating in his head; he could feel it in his fingertips that clutched the white box she’d given him.

“You crying?” she wondered, wrapping her hand around his muscle in an attempt to clear her airways. He was simply too big to hug her in that way, she was sure she’d almost suffocated.

“Shhh,” he countered, and she giggled against his bicep. “Thank you. That’s really nice.”

She sighed as if in awe of herself. “I know.”

The two stayed outside until the final chocolate box was handed out, and then five minutes more when a group of kids came by asking Richarlison if he could give them money for the store. This was not her first time watching him cough up money to kids as if they were bullies in the eighties, and she doubted it would be the last– Richarlison would give a kid the shirt off his back in zero-degree weather. The kids chorused pitchy goodbyes to the both of them before speeding off, leaving them to turn to each other and laugh a little at their eagerness.

She did not say what she wanted to say: that he looked handsome and his generosity was giving her heart palpitations.

He did not say what he wanted to say: that she looked beautiful and he wanted to place his hands on either side of her face to pull her lips to his… And also that he was kind of sure he’d accidentally given one of those kids a fifty.

They stared at each other until their eyes began to sting. When they entered his home, just as sky morphed into a dark hue of blue, she found his couch covered in presents.

“There’s more?” she asked in shock. She moved toward the sofa and tilted her head at the sparkly gift bag smack dab on the middle cushion, reaching out to rub a gentle finger against the red glitter there. She glanced to Richarlison. “Is this one even yours, or is it your roommate’s?”

Richarlison had thought of how he would give the presents to her fleetingly throughout the day– he found, however, when faced with the woman of his dreams he couldn’t form any semblance of thought. He stood before her kind of stoically.

She scrunched her face up. “Wait, do you even have a valentine? I didn’t ask.” This was, of course, due to her apprehension regarding whatever his answer would be. She pressed her lips together as he teetered a little side to side.

“I don’t have a valentine,” he said a bit haltingly. “Do…” he gulped, “Do you?”

She blinked at him. “Do I have a valentine?”

“Do you have a valentine?” he questioned simply, losing feeling in his fingertips from his nerves.

“No, I don’t think I technically do.”

He would ignore the ‘technically.’

“Because I,” he started shakily, crossing the room in two easy strides and stopping a few inches away before her.

This was it, the moment he imagined: striding over to her in a silver suit, sitting on a stallion— her knight in shining armor— and romantically declaring that, that big, sparkly gift bag was hers.

In real-time, he choked. “I, uh… Hey, this is yours,” he said, pointing to the present.

He was shocked to find that she was still gasping deeply despite his lackluster approach. She appeared rocked by his words as if she had truly not been expecting him to think of her, her mouth agape and a hand over her heart. He was unsure how she could even think such a thing, as his every thought began and end with her. He could not fathom the fact that she did not know how important she was to him, and this, in turn, shocked him.

“It’s mine? You got me something?” Her wide eyes searched his desperately, though she knew Richarlison would never play with her that way.

His brown eyes fell to his shoes, confident that if he looked at her for a second longer he would turn beet red. He could already feel the tips of his ears scorching, begging him to press an ice pack against them.

Her hand lifted up hesitantly before she laid her warm palm against his clavicle and he was sure he was knocking on heaven’s gates. She pressed there, turning him toward her as her left hand grabbed his right arm. She wrapped his arm low around her waist and pulled him against her, his heart mere inches from her own.

She smelled like his childhood. She smelled like sweet treats and the Sun and water balloons. She smelled like everything he’d ever known, and he decided he would do everything in his power to keep her with him.

“Thank you, Rich,” she whispered against the skin of his neck. “It means a lot.”

His cheeks burned and he no longer cared to hide it. “It means a lot to me, too.”

She snaked her fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck and tightened her hold there gently, pulling away in the next moment to assess the gift bag. She sat to its right and he sat to its left, his lip caught between his teeth as he watched her peek inside. She closed two fingers around the tissue paper and delicately tugged it onto her lap. Richarlison promptly reached over and gathered the jumble of reds and pinks from her legs, placing it beside him on the couch just as she pulled out a bouquet of wine-colored roses.

They were wrapped in white paper, a pink bow tied around them for good measure. There was a pang somewhere in her chest at the realization that they were placed in a heart, with the rose in the middle not even being a rose at all— instead, smack dab in the middle of the deep red bouquet, laid a jasmine flower the color of a pearl.

She recalled being in his room many times in passing, and each time her eyes would find the jasmines placed on his nightstand. She would chuckle each time she saw them, and he would give her the same excuse, “I think they’re pretty.”

“Oh my God,” she said before she could think, sweeping a finger along one of the petals of the white flower.

“That one is from my room,” he told her, and then laughed. “I almost broke my vase.”

Her gaze snapped to the man on the couch, wide and amazed at something Richarlison was not too sure of. “You put this together yourself?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered easily, shrugging. He had not yet caught the glossy sheen zipping across her irises, too caught up in elaborating, “The roses were really beautiful, but they were missing something more. And I like jasmines. They’re pretty. I wanted to give you something really, really beautiful and pretty.”

(There was a flash in which she thought of that one Nicki Minaj verse, in which she rapped about putting something on a man’s sideburns.)

“Do you like it?” Richarlison asked, studying her pretty face to find her blinking hard to get something out of her eye— Richarlison guessed maybe a dust particle had gotten in.

“I love it,” she mused.

His heart fluttered at her praise. “There’s more in the bag,” he said, taking the flowers from her so that her hands were free.

She plucked the next gift from the bag: a huge heart-shaped box of chocolates. She laughed when Richarlison reached over her and grabbed a chocolate for himself the moment she pried it open, his sweet tooth notorious to the point that he had even ended up grabbing the box from her to keep eating as she craned her neck back to the bag.

When the final gift was out, and she’d settled it on her lap, Richarlison watched as she cupped her hands over her mouth and chuckled loudly. He smiled, too, grateful that he had anticipated her reaction so accurately; he’d expected her awed laughter and had been looking forward to it ever since he’d bargained with a baby for it.

Okay, so he bribed the baby.

Okay, so the baby got away with a hundred-dollar bill.

Whatever.

“Stop,” she breathed, shaking her head with a grin. “Stop.”

She brushed a finger against the lines on the stuffed toy before her– yellow, black, yellow, black, yellow, black, until her finger landed on the smooth material of its pink heart-shaped wings. It was a bee holding a fluffy red heart between its tiny arms and grinning at her lopsidedly. Bee Mine! Read the toy, and she swore her temples were beginning to ache from how hard she was smiling.

He’d been calling her Honey for weeks, having found himself enamored with the emoji she’d pressed into his phone the very first time they met. He parted his lips to say this to her, to tell her that the plush bee represented the nickname, though when she shoved the gift bag off the couch and crawled into his lap— wrapping her smooth arms around his neck in a tight embrace— he assumed that she’d probably made the connection herself.

She pressed her lips against his cheek once and then twice before saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Rich,” and kissing him there a third time.

He was sure he’d been hallucinating, though the feel of her waist underneath his hands threw a wrench in that theory. Still, he felt nonplussed; there were many dreams of him in which they’d always end up in that same position, her poised in his lap with her arms around his neck. He had to blink a few times to snap back to reality. He was a little dazed as he tightened his fingers around her midriff, having to fight to catch his breath at the feeling of her ribcage constricting. She was real and alive and in his lap. He was tempted to FaceTime all of his friends and go on a long tangent.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he breathed.

She did not wish to go home, and he did not wish to be apart from her. Thus, the answer was simple: the two ate beignets and watched The Princess and the Frog, her arms thrown across his torso in an effort to both fit on the couch.

As the Voodoo Priestess on the screen sang about digging a little deeper, he laid his cheek against her slicked bun and smelled the sweet treats and the Sun and water balloon. He smelled everything he’d ever known, and then some. Richarlison’s gaze flitted from the screen to the woman tucked into his side, and for the first time in a very long time, he did not feel absolutely foreign in the country that was not his own.

#richarlison andrade #richarlison x reader #richarlison fluff #richarlison x black reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #x oc #valentine #valentine's day #football imagine #princess and the frog

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footytea · 4 days

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That anon calling Jude colorist based on absolutely nothing is crazy. This is how rumours spread. It’s such a serious accusation and there is zero evidence to confirm it. Jude likes all different types of girls. Is everyone forgetting he was in Kayla Nicole’s likes for ages.

which anon are you talking about? the og anon was talking about andre grey?

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jeepers-scoob · 1 year

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Something I really appreciate in the hunger games is that it really emphasizes how much grey area there can be in something that looks so black and white to begin with bc thats literally how life is! While there are definitely well defined villians there is so much nuance to the characters and the events that took place. You can end up sympathizing with the same people you were disgusted by just a few chapters ago. There are no perfect answers on how to proceed with a rebellion even if there are choices that are more obviously correct morally bc human emotions make things extremely messy especially when they have experienced things no one should! Just like life sometimes the outcomes arent truly satisfying bc in the end people of all kinds had to suffer when they didn't have to if someone just had made a better decision in the moment but the whole hindsight is 20/20 thing applies

#text #kayla rambles #thg #this probably makes no sense and its rambly as shit #but dont tell me i know #i just have so many thoughts and the thoughts from the books start to connect into thoughts about real life and the comparisons you can do #but i stand by the grey its so easy to fall into black and white thinking but so much is just different shades of grey #and i havent encountered many books that show how grey things can be cause it is unsatisfying! it kinda sucks to not have a clear victory #in the sense that only the evil got hurt and the good prevailed cause thats not really how life turns out

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mediumgayitalian · 4 months

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“Will. Hey.” He reaches out when the medic doesn’t react, forcibly stilling his hands. Even then, he can feel the minute twitches, the fighting he’s doing with himself to keep still. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“They leave tomorrow,” Will stresses, finally pulling his hands free. “The Romans are early risers, Nico, you know better than anyone, I need this done before they —”

He cuts himself off, too invested in the sprawl of paperwork completely covering the nurse’s station. Under his eyes is almost completely bruised black, not unlike the war paint he wore so long ago, and there’s a grey dullness to him. If he stays in one place too long, he sways on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he says, suddenly, as if remembering Nico is there. He pauses briefly to shoot him a small, strained smile, then returns to his frantic sorting. A red thumbprint bleeds onto the corner of the page of one of the files. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Without straying too far, Nico gathers the supplies he needs. He pulls out a tray to grab some antiseptic, swipes a Pac-Man bandaid off a box on the counter. Arms laden with his spoils, he nudges the half-door open with his hip, setting the supplies down when he’s inside the round desk-station.

“Will,” he says quietly, wrapping his hand around his elbow. He jumps.

“I’m — fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

He blinks, staring down at his hands; brows furrowing as he notices the several scattered paper cuts crossing almost every finger. Many of them are clotted, scabbed over; dried blood streaking between his freckles and swirling around stark white scars.

“Come here.”

Without protest, for once, he does. He sets down the pen clenched in his left thumb and turns to face Nico fully. In the minimal space between them, his hands shake.

“I didn’t notice,” he murmurs, flinching as Nico soaks a cotton pad and presses it to a cut on the inside of his thumb. Nico can’t quite read the expression on his face, although there’s a choked quality to his voice. “I need to — before they —”

“Not everything is your responsibility,” Nico interrupts. He meets Will’s gaze head on, his own gaze steady, heart breaking at the fragility in his ice blue eyes. “Not everything is your responsibility, Will,” he repeats, firmer this time.

Will’s face crumples. “I haven’t slept in five days.”

Nico closes his eyes. “Gods, Will.”

“I’m sorry.”

In moments like these, Nico hates working for his father.

He had left to relative chaos. Relative, meaning in comparison to what the rest of the eight billion people on the planet would consider calm, camp wasn’t it, but by demigod standards it wasn’t too bad. Several Romans, including Reyna and Hazel, were due to arrive the day after he was summoned by his father, which was a bummer, but he had assurance from both of them that they’d stay long enough to see him. And reassurance from his father that the errand wouldn’t be too perilous. And, lastly, a threat (warning out of love, he would say, but Nico knows a threat when he sees one) from Will to take it easy.

He got back to debris and blood and a flurry of stress — a weapons development disaster, he’d been quickly informed. No deaths, at least not yet, but several in critical condition that were quickly approaching it.

And Kayla and Austin, back at school, and Will in the infirmary by himself.

“Will,” he repeats for the third time, a little more urgently this time. He places a gently finger under his chin. “Look at me a second.”

He regrets asking, almost, when Will meets his eyes, although he immediately feels guilty for the thought. The son of Apollo is so rarely vulnerable, stubbornly intent on carrying the burdens he’s stuck with without half a hand of help. It wears on him, and the proof of the weariness hurts Nico somewhere, deep in his soul; he hates bearing witness to it.

Worse, though, is the knowledge that Will is struggling with it himself.

“Everybody critical has been stabilized,” he says firmly. When Will opens his mouth in protest, he adds, “I can feel it, Sunshine, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he says, immediately. He snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

Nico’s own shoulders slump when Will exhales, long and exhausted. “Good. This —” he gestures to the paperwork — “this is secondary, Solace. I don’t care if they want to leave tomorrow. You need rest, and, hell, if they’re that pressed about it, I’ll make them do the fucking paperwork.”

“Please, don’t,” Will says, laughing feebly. He swiped quickly under his eyes, pulling away, and Nico lets him, if only because his small smile seems genuine, if not exhausted. “The idea of that actually makes me want to puke. I hate paperwork, but I hate anyone else doing it more.”

“Right, right.” Nico nudges his shoulder, something like teasing showing in his eyes. “Heaven forbid someone dot their i’s incorrectly.”

“Exactly.” Will looks so serious that Nico stills, trying to figure out just how anal, exactly, his friend is, before his face breaks out into a wide, genuine grin. Nico’s stomach flips. “I’m only teasing, Death Breath. I don’t actually care if people dot their i’s incorrectly. And I would appreciate the help.”

“I feel like it hurt you to say that,” Nico says, once he recovers from the staggering force of one million megawatts of smile power.

“It did.”

“Also, you implied that there genuinely is a wrong way to dot your i’s.”

“…Of course there is.” Will looks at him strangely. “Maybe I’m not the one who’s sleep deprived,” he muses, reminding Nico that oh yeah, dumbass, Will is actually genuinely sick with how little sleep he’s gotten, maybe fix that.

“Will you sleep, now?”

Will hesitates. “There was a girl with a — skull injury.”

Nico understands immediately. (He saw the mangled mess of Lee’s shroud.)

“Come sleep in my cabin,” he suggests, squeezing his wrist. “I’ll keep watch, and you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. He allows himself to be tugged out of the infirmary, only looking back a couple times. “Thank you, Nico.”

“Anything for you,” Nico responds, just as quiet, and his heart races when Will beams.