#percy would just be stuttering and soaked
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It would have been really funny if Percy wasn't the son of Poseidon, so when Annabeth pushed him into the water, there was no effect and he just got pushed into water for no reason
#percy would just be stuttering and soaked#but that wont happen because annabeth is a genius#plus what's percy without poseidon?#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo series#pjo show#pjo hoo toa tsats#pjo#annabeth chase#percabeth#poseiden
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kinktober day xxvi. THIGH RIDING – percy dolarhyde
word count: ~700
tags: clothed sex, competitive overtones, hand-job, cumming in pants, first time kissing <3, a little overstimulation
masterlist | ao3
You grind your bare arousal especially hard down on this denim-clad thigh, a high-pitched moan leaving your throat.
“Fuck, yes, just like that, baby…” Percy grips your hips like he’s the one gaining pleasure from this.
His thigh muscles are tensed up, perfect for you to rut against, chasing your pleasure. He loved seeing you like this, all desperate and wanting so much so that you couldn’t wait for him to take his cock out.
Percy’s Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you hike your skirt up, showing him just how in need you are. You roll your head back slightly as you move back and forth, revealing your glistening chest, warmed by the desert heat. He groans as he grabs your corset-covered breast, eager to feel every part of you.
Your thighs begin to shake as the roughness of his jeans rubs deliciously against your clit. The wetness soaks through his pants, and he chuckles, “God, you’re getting my pants all dirty, girl. Better clean that up after, huh?”
“Ugh, you know you like it, you– ah!”
A pinch to your clit has you collapse onto his chest, the sensitivity was almost too much to bear. Your mouth falls open, one of your hands coming to scratch down his chest through his unbuttoned shirt. Percy practically whimpers at that and begins to rock his hips against you– trying to meet your movements, “Come on, get yourself off on me, (Y/N)... don’t stop now.”
You try to fill your gaze at him with resentment– but anyone could see the lust in your eyes from a mile away, even an idiot like Percy. You grip his vest like a vice as you grind down onto his thigh, your knee grazing against his bulge at the same time.
His calloused hands immediately come to grip at your hips, tight enough to leave bruises, “Make a mess on my leg, sweetheart, come on… sooner you do it, the faster I’ll make your face all messy too, huh?”
“You fuckin’ wish, Dolarhyde,” you whine out, the pleasure betraying your intended anger. “You’d be lucky if I even let you come in my hand.”
Percy's chuckles quickly turn into pathetic moans as you reach a hand down to grasp his hardness– punctuating your words. If you were gonna make a mess, he better do it too. His grip on you speeds your movements up, you have no more control over the pace. You knew you were close, Percy always kept you on edge regardless of the situation– but you needed to make him come in his pants.
As his hands maneuvered your body onto his own, you stuck your own hand into his jeans to palm even more so at his arousal– causing him to nearly buckle over onto you.
“You play dirty, don’t you, girl?” He chokes out, eyes full of a competitive fire you so often saw in them. “Just how I like it.”
Not gracing him with a response he’d only cut off by making you whimper, you hold your tongue and start pumping him in earnest. You could feel how messy he had already made his drawers without release– you’d rag on him for that later. You hold Percy’s intense gaze as you repeatedly meet the rough fabric, he knows it’ll only take a few more moments until you lose yourself.
Harshly and quickly, you bash your teeth against his in a kiss, catching the man off-guard– the two of you had never shared a seemingly tender act before. He whimpers into the embrace, tongue already sliding against yours with a fervor like no other. Percy rocks your hips back and forth as his thighs tremble with your repeated strokes.
The two of you release almost in tandem, lips already sore from the muffling of moans– not to mention Percy’s lack of skill when it came to not involving teeth in kissing. You feel him stutter in your fist, trying so desperately to get away from the overstimulation. He does the same with you, trapping your arousal bare against the denim– any slight movement would have you scream.
His breath is hot against your lips, and so is yours as you meet each other’s gaze again.
“So,” you mumble, throat dry, “Let’s call it a draw, yeah?”
Percy looks down at your lips, smirking, “How about best of three?”
taglist:
@sunpuffsstuff @abrcmswrld
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How would your OCs react if they walked in on their darling masturbating?
i find it deeply flattering when i manage to manifest thirsty oc questions after asking for them, like 'yes. i am doing something right with these little wish-fulfilment type characters', so thank you for indulging me anon <3
cw; kidnapping, dub-con/non-con touching, one mention of blades/cigarettes/violence (fucking cass).
Cass is pleased in a sharp, hungry way. He moves like a big cat - predatory, graceful, almost silent - until he's practically caging them beneath him with his one visible eye glinting sharply in the light. If this frightens his darling and they stop, he's insistent in that low drawl that they; "Oh, do carry on. You looked like you were having such a good time." He wants to study every single twitch and furrow of their facial expression as they do it . . . commit them to memory. Draw tenuous links with the way they look when he drags an antique knife across their throat or stubs an expensive cigarette out on their thigh. Better do a good job of entertaining him.
Constance smiles at them and coos at them as she enters the surgery room, alerting them to her presence. She's not asking for permission to help so much as expecting them to let her - already reaching out to spread their thighs wider with gloved hands. She knows how good masturbation can be for one's health and happiness, after all - and it's so much the better for all of her plans if her darling is healthy. She's not always so selfless (as she hastens to remind them), but . . . she'll make an exception, this time. Just be good for her. And if they're really good, perhaps she'll go diving into her toy chest - although perhaps she'll do that if they're really bad, too.
Lucas is torn - but pure hunger and desire wins out. As their protector, it's his duty to help them with any problems, including this one. And if they're doing that knowing that he's around, they must want his help, even if they don't know it yet. So he's already shutting the door behind him and walking towards them, lowly growling out with all of his senses on high alert; "Angel. C'mon. Lemme take care of that for ya'."
Mortal Glamour Van stutters awkwardly, covering his eyes and peeking over them at the same time. He doesn't move from the doorway, caught between just how much he wants to see them all boneless and pleasure-soaked and panting, and how sorry he is for interrupting their time alone. He really needs some gentle encouragement, if his darling wants anything approaching help.
True Form Van is amused. He'll linger, watching, waiting - making them feel exposed under his violet gaze, and awkward and warm. He'll wait until the very last moment to touch them; pulling hands away, pinning them by his darling's face, with the quiet reminder that pets are supposed to behave themselves. A good pet would ask permission. If they get bratty about how close they were, they might amuse him enough that he's willing to help them bridge the final gap - or they might find themselves bound to his bed with ropes of vines whilst he shows them just how many times they can get that close with no release. It depends on the day, and on how he's feeling.
Percy is also amused, but mildly sympathethic. Poor thing, so worked up that they're doing this even knowing that Percy is around, and that he could ensure this was their worst attempt at masturbating on record! But he's willing to play the hero. Gather them all up in his arms and kiss the top of their head and use his hands on them too, guide them in touching themselves and murmur gentle platitudes into their ear as he helps them feel good until they almost forget what Percy is capable of. Percy prefers to use a mixture of bone-crushing terror and gentle coddling, pretending to care about them - the second makes the first all that more potent. They got lucky this time. Next time, they might not.
Thorne is enthusiastic. They don't really have any privacy on the Athena; Thorne is always seeking them out, demanding their time and attention. He'd wondered why they'd slipped away - and finding them like this? Oh, he's delighted. They didn't need to hide from him; he's more than happy to help! He's overly happy to help, actually - a little clumsy with his hands and fingers, pushing past protests. He really needs to be taken in hand and given some advice, or his darling's not going to achieve what they wanted!
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Hey! Your Percy x reader fics give me life! There are hardly any out there. Can I request a Percy x reader where Percy soft for the reader, please?
a/n: here's a soft little blurb for our blorbo. our little meow meow. our bucket of kentucky fried trauma. our edge lord and savior.
this was silly and i am tired.
tag list: @imaginesfire
Sometimes, there could be peace in the world. A moment where the tension could release from the muscles, shoulders could drop and it was possible to just breath. It didn't matter what time of the day it was, or what day of the week, no tasks at hand needing to be done - simple bliss.
It was a beautiful summer afternoon, a perfect breeze caressed the earth, flowers soaking up the bright sun, and branches dancing gently with the flow. Nothing could ruin this day.
Even the sight of you huffing and puffing as your feet kicked the floorboards beneath you, carrying you quickly down the hall like hell had been unleashed upon you, Vex and Vax barely spared you a glance as you passed by with a gleeful giggle. Sliding to a stop in the hallway, you made the quick decision to run to the workroom, hearing heavy footsteps from an advancing Goliath.
Throwing open the door, you made direct eye contact with a bird mask that just kind of tilted to the side after a second. You and Percival just kind of stared quietly - you in the doorway face flushed and breathing heavily, him with sleeves rolled up and holding a beaker in one hand and a flat flask in the other.
The tension was broken by the sound of a cursing Grog and you both jumped slightly, you turning it into a dive towards him, skidding on your knees and throwing your arms around his waist, face buried into his belly.
A couple seconds passed, and you had to stifle your laughter as you imagined him still standing in the same position, probably looking around the room as if something would give him an answer as to what the fuck was going on. "What are you doing?" he finally asked, still not moving an inch.
"Hiding," you answered quickly, tightening your arms.
"You realize I have very dangerous chemicals - " he paused his chiding, weight shifting from one leg to the other, looking down at you who craned their neck up. He was going to ignore the very suggestive position, but now you could see his fern-colored eyes through the two little holes. "Hiding?" he repeated to you and you nodded, but he gave you a suspicious look. "Is this just another one of your excuses to hug me?"
You squinted at him. "Did I stutter?"
His soul - or whatever is left of it these days - left his body in a sigh. "No," he said, matter-of-fact and you gave a curt nod to show you made your point. "However - " you shot him a pout and he leaned over just slightly, the beak looking silly from his angle. " - you'd have to be hiding from a crackbrained oaf in this position for it to be successful."
Lo and behold, the door cracked open, and in popped the head Grog. "Oh, hey, Percy!" he chuckled, throwing the door open the rest of the way and it hit the wall with a small crack. "Didn't know you'd be here." The gunslinger simply blinked once, twice and the Goliath stood there for a moment before he gave a girly squeal, eyes gleaming at the cup-shaped objects Percival held. "Whatcha' drinking?"
"A merciful release," he replied dryly, carefully setting the beaker and flask onto his table. It was then Grog finally asked for you, explaining that he figured you'd be down there since it just seemed like Percival couldn't leave you alone or something ... or other, like Vax joked about you having ahold of his balls, which Grog thought was impossible since Percy walked around perfectly fine. "Oh no," he began overly sarcastic, shrugging, looking the giant man directly in the eye. "In fact, I haven't seen them today at all!"
The Goliath nodded his head for a moment, seemingly in thought, if something like that ever passed through that thick skull. "Well, thanks anyway!" he said before turning around and leaving the door open.
A second of silence passed and you swear by everything in this world you watched the aloof tightass you were currently clinging to die a little bit inside. "I very firmly rest my case."
You finally allowed yourself to vocally laugh, hands tightening around his shirt. "See? This is my safe space." You stated proudly, looking up at him with a bright smile, and he couldn't help the affectionate one that crossed his lips at that.
Yes, it seemed today was in fact one of those perfect days.
#percival x reader#percival fredrickstein von musel de rolo iii#percy de rolo#percival de rolo#the legend of vox machina#vox machina x reader#critical role x reader#percival de rolo x reader#percy de rolo x reader#percy x reader#critical role#tlovm#tlovm x reader#vox machina
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫
"I had a bad dream.”
pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader
words: 9,443
warnings: uh, death, grieving, mentions of murder, brief mention of cults
timeline: the titan’s curse
if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here
a/n: hi... here's another chapter after 3 months and 3 weeks. no, i will not round it. i hope you guys like it! if there are any typos, they're in your head. enjoy! <3
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve
“Dad, I think I want to join the hunters.”
The payphone wire slips between your twirling fingers, the receiver is cold against your ear. Your eloquent, well-spoken father—the same man who can carry a three-hour class lecture without losing a thought—is stuttering over the phone at the utterance of a single sentence.
He’s torn between his immediate reaction and his more thoughtful one, and every nervous consonant over the receiver vibrates against your ear. And each one is a small jab beating down any feeling of confidence towards your decision. Finally, he surrenders to his staggering thoughts with a defeated sigh.
“I need a second.”
His silence is so prolonged; you thought the phone call dropped. There wasn’t a single rustle of movement or a faint breath that indicated he was on the line. Even over the phone, you can just imagine the crease in between his eyebrows and his concerned, even panicked eyes boring into your face.
“Okay.” His tone is firm now that he’s come to terms with the hurdle you shoved right in front of him. “I don’t want to disregard your decision because you’re a very smart girl, but I need to know why you’re considering this.”
There’s a clench in your chest, and you’re not sure if you would rather your dad straight out forbid you from joining than holding his tongue and allowing you to explain. “If I’m in the hunters, I’ll stay 14 forever. I’ll vow to maidenhood, so there will never be a baby for her to steal, and I can’t go on to my next life if I never die.”
A thoughtful hum travels through the line, and you lean against the wall beside the payphone. Your eyes falter to the busy courtyard of campers setting up stands and decorations for the Winter Solstice festival that will take place in the next couple of days.
“I see. Well, logically, joining the hunters would solve that problem, but have you considered the weight of your oath to Lady Artemis? This is a very important decision, and to every decision, there are cons; cons you need to take into account whether you can live with them or not.”
Your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip. Right. The cons were plenty. One had to do with the person on the other side of the line. The other had to do with the vibrant boy who plays a rendition of tag with Ambrose and Nico by the forest trees.
“Have you already spoken to Lady Artemis about it?” Your father’s voice cuts in, and you shake your head despite knowing he couldn’t see you.
“No. She's not with them right now, but I spoke to the assigned head of the group, Zoe.”
“And what did she say?”
☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆
No matter how warm Percy’s gloves are, they don’t cancel out the clamminess of your hands. I can’t give these gloves back like this, and you realize the cloth is warm but also damp. Suddenly, the image of Percy repulsed at getting his gloves back soaked with your hand fluids makes you want to crawl inside of a hole.
He’ll literally never talk to me again.
You make a mental note to throw them in the wash before returning them, and even as you come up with that solution, the imaginary scenario lingers, only adding to your anxiety. To distract yourself from the stubborn thought, you double, then triple check the courtyard was rid of witnesses as you walked toward the Artemis Cabin. In the summers, gossip traveled around fast, and with less than a quarter of campers around, everyone could know about your consultation by dinner.
The group of girls sit and talk amongst themselves; some sharpen their knives while others rebraid their fellow hunter’s hair. They haven’t noticed your approach yet, and you’re glad they haven’t; not only are you still gathering your courage but also trying to decide how you will even ask for what you want. Do you ask for an orientation? Do they have pamphlets like a vacation resort? You didn’t even know what to expect.
The opportunity to make a beeline to the left and pretend you were heading to the armory still stands, and you heavily consider doing so. There's a push and pull between your conflicting thoughts, and the moment you decide to back out, you are already in their range of acknowledgment.
Bianca tapped Zoe’s shoulder after laying eyes on you, and you try not to look sheepish as, almost in unison, the group turns to focus on you. It’s hard not to cower from the hostile looks and flickering eyes that study you with an intensity like the mean girls at your school.
As you halted a few feet from the porch steps, it dawned on you that the script you practiced in your mind vanished.
“Um." Your mouth goes dry, unable to find the words as if you had forgotten the entirety of the English language. "I'm considering—"
“Thou wish to join?” Zoe cuts in, and she rises from the planks, her hands tugging her coat back in its place.
"Uh, I don't know for sure yet. I'm considering it."
There’s a muffled chuckle from the left side of the porch coming from Eve and Edith. The two exchange an amused, almost plotting look. At the realization that they could be your cohorts, the urge to turn on your heels and pretend this didn’t happen only grew. Did the hunters have an initiation tradition? After playing capture the flag with those two, you hope not.
"Follow me." Zoe turns on her heels, and the girls that crowd her path move out of her way. Ignoring the stares and the weird tension in the air—though that might just be in your head—you follow her into the cabin.
The Artemis cabin is pretty tidy, considering its occasional use. The Artemis statue in the very front is clean and glowing in the sunlight seeping through the windows. Their belongings are splayed against the walls and tucked away into trunks. Their beds are made, the sheets smoothed down so meticulously, you can just imagine Zoe doing rounds like a military sergeant and checking for perfection.
Zoe pulls a drawer open, the sound drawing your attention as she reveals what looks to be a brochure and passes it over to you. “We are very excited to hear you’re considering joining the hunters….”
As you remain fixed on the purple brochure in your grasp, your focus drowns out her practiced orientation speech.
A WISE CHOICE FOR YOUR FUTURE! It read on the front with a picture of a girl holding a bow and arrow. Inside there are pictures of the girls hunting, fighting monsters, and shooting bows. The bottom with bold letters says HEALTH BENEFITS: IMMORTALITY AND WHAT IT MEANS FOR YOU! and A BOY-FREE TOMORROW!
This kinda sounds like a cult. It’s like the Girl Scouts on steroids and without the cookies, which arguably could make the hunters more likable if they did sell cookies. Was it misogynistic to think so? Would you believe it any different if a group of boys traveled with a god, had the same high-strung attitudes, and openly expressed their dislike for love and women? Nope, it would still be like a cult. In fact, it probably would be even worse, you decide.
“What’s your name, again?” Zoe’s voice cuts into your thoughts.
“Um, Y/n,” you answer, and she smiles.
“Hecate’s daughter, correct? I can tell from the powers you used during Capture the Flag. You’d be a great addition! What could possibly hold you back?”
For a moment, you’re silent, blinking at the girl. “Well, Atticus—”
“Ah, boys.” Zoe rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, boys. My brother,” you emphasize, annoyance laced in your tone. She spoke as if you were being held back by a little crush, not because of your twin brother, with whom you’ve never spent more than a few hours apart.
Your father always joked about the mutual separation anxiety you two had. As children, he insisted on putting you in different classes, hoping that it would ease the dependency and allow you to develop an identity of your own. He quickly realized, though, that the two of you were ill-tempered and awful to have in the classroom when separated, forcing him to appeal his initial decision.
Having you together came with its own challenges, but all of your teachers agreed that keeping you apart was a lot harder. Something told you that you are too idealistic with this plan as your stomach churns a little more when you think of being away from your brother.
Zoe waves her hand, disregarding your reason as if it’s an easy one to solve. “Well, you get over that, and then we’re ready to take you in. When Lady Artemis returns, you can bind your oath officially,” she says proudly.
The only sound you can make is a hum, afraid that if you open your mouth, you’d say something you’ll regret. “Thanks,” you mumble as you turn on your heels, folding the brochure and stuffing it in your pocket.
☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆
“Three syllables?” Al guesses, his smile gleaming as you press your finger to your nose. Atticus furrows his eyebrows, both boys watching attentively and half worried while you climb on the tree branch.
The bitter cold nipped at your cheeks, and there’s a sting of snow against your jeans once you’ve settled. Slinging your foot, so your legs are facing both ways, you carefully lean back, hanging from the branch. A giggle leaves your lips, Al putting his arms up fast, ready to catch you with a hovering spell in case you fall off.
“Um.” Atticus tilts his head; his eyebrows furrow deeper with confusion. Almost simultaneously, the two boys tilt their heads to the side. You’d be laughing if blood wasn’t rushing to your head, and you put your arms out defensively.
“Hurry up,” you grunt, and Atticus breaks into a smile.
“Okay, uh, monkey?” He guesses.
“That’s two syllables,” Alabaster points out, hand resting on his chin. “Monkey bars?”
You shake your head, huffing at their wrong guesses. Here you are, thinking your charade choice would be too easy, but the two were at a loss.
“No?” You shake your head, confirming that Alabaster’s guess was wrong, and Atticus shrugs beside him.
“I don’t know.”
A sigh leaves your lips, swinging your body back and forth from the branch, hoping that they’ll guess one more time before you tap out.
All of a sudden, a blinking light bulb practically appears over Alabaster’s head. “The hanged man!”
“Finally!”
The vision of your brothers fades, and a voice speaking your name infiltrates your senses. A drowsy sigh leaves you, and your eyes flutter open. Before they can adjust, a dark figure looms over your frame, and you gasp harshly, only to be filled with relief when you see the familiar pale, chubby-cheeked boy.
Nico’s eyes glisten, more tears threatening to escape and follow the ones already rolling down the curve of his face. “Y/n?”
“Nico? What happened?” You prop yourself up, and the boy crouches down so that you’ll hear his whispers better.
Soft snores and mindless shifts filling the cabin tell you you’re the only two awake and will be for a while.
“I had a bad dream.” His voice cracks, fingers restlessly fiddling with themselves, and you frown.
“What about?” You ask, eyes flicking around the room. The first thought that filled your mind was something snuck into camp, but the energy in the room is light and protected as usual.
“I was back at my school, and I couldn’t find my sister.” He pauses. “While I was looking for her, my teeth fell out.”
A heaviness strikes your chest. “Did it hurt? When your teeth fell out?”
“Yes,” Nico whines. “I woke up to check if my teeth were still there because it felt so real.” His gaze sets out on the rest of the cabin, and you shift in your spot, eyes studying his grief-stricken expression. “Something isn’t right. I feel sick.”
Hiding the concern on your face is a hard task as he searches for your reaction. Teeth falling out in your dreams were never good, and your mind wanders to the cards and charms you read for Percy.
Death. If anything was affirmed more than once, it was death. The last thing you want to do is think of the worst, but the feeling in your gut anchors you to the thought.
“You didn’t eat dinner today.”
Nico frowns, “I didn’t feel hungry.”
“It’s probably why you feel sick.” As Nico’s expression shows you he’s accepted your answer as the truth, you felt worse. You were lying to him, no doubt, but what other choice did you have? It’s not like you should tell him what you're thinking. Three AM in a cabin full of sleeping campers is not the best time to conspire that his sister could be…
“Here. I have snacks.”
The remnants of Nico’s frown remain even as his eyes light up at the sight of the snacks stashed in your night table. He eyes the granola bar in the corner, studying the packaging before opening it up. Nico nibbles on the corner, silently pondering on his worries, and it leaves you thinking about your own.
You’ve had a handful of dreams where your teeth fell out but rarely, the death it prophesied was the death of someone close to you. There’s a possibility his dream had nothing to do with someone he knows personally. Still, you can’t shake off the worry that it could.
“Hey.” The word slips from your lips barely above a whisper, but it does its job at getting his attention. “If you’re still scared, you can bring your sleeping bag over and sleep next to Ambrose.”
Nico’s eyes falter to the hound, who huffs excitedly at the thought of a cuddle buddy tonight. Through his sniffles and pink eyes, Nico finds the urge to smile, Ambrose exchanging looks between the two of you as if he’s coxing him to agree. Almost immediately, his mood brightens at the offer, and he stuffs the last piece of granola in his mouth to drag his sleeping bag over.
Once Nico tucks himself in, Ambrose curls up beside him, and he speaks a quiet good night. You take in the sight of the boy’s small frame. After a few moments, the rise and fall of his chest slow down, and his face relaxes as he drifts to a temporary peace.
Only then do you turn over and attempt to sleep yourself. But the tick-tock of the clock at the front of the Hermes cabin taunts every passing second at the way your heavy heart keeps you up a little longer.
☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆
“Have you spoken to Atticus about any of this?” A shaky sigh leaves you, and it was enough to tell your dad that you haven’t. “Stella, he’s not going to take it well.”
“I know.” Your voice is shaky, eyes flickering over to Ambrose trampling down Atticus. Nico’s laugh echoes in the air as he joins the two down on the grass. “That’s why I haven’t told him anything.”
There’s another prolonged silence on the line, and your fingers nervously fidget with the loose thread in your coat pocket. “If he tells you not to go, will you stay?”
Your stomach jumps, rolls, and churns at the scenario of telling Atticus you’re joining the hunters. There was no doubt in your mind that he would protest and insist you stay, and you don’t know how far you will go to defend yourself.
Atticus’s opposition might be enough to sway your choice unless you come to a firm decision to leave. Usually, once you’ve set intentions on something, you’re not easily persuaded, always staying dedicated to what you've chosen. But you’re having a hard time imagining that you’d find that firmness when it comes time to tell your brother.
“I don’t know.”
☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆
The infirmary is not your ideal place for studying. The constant in and out of injured campers, the chattering, and, of course, the spontaneous acapella of the Apollo campers had your attention all over the place. Your eyes mindlessly scan through the Latin, the words appearing to be meaningless clusters before another occurrence breaks through your concentration.
A frustrated huff leaves your lips, and you shake your head as if the action would boggle your brain straight. For the fifth time, you had to start over this confringo potion for a kid who shattered his tibia during a freak accident on a pegasus, which is awful because he kind of needs it as soon as possible.
Besides you, Lou didn’t share the same urgency. Clearly, she didn’t; not a single ounce. The girl has her arms wrapped around your neck, weighing you down with suffocating affection, and she’s periodically covering your view of the spellbook.
Being a consistent study partner had given you some expectation that she’d be determined to get some work done, but you had been wrong. It was a rare occasion, but she was currently at Atticus’s level of distraction. Which means she was annoying in the most overwhelming way possible.
Your shimming shoulders do nothing to nudge her off, and neither was the glare from the side of your eye. Instead, she readjusts herself, making a delighted squeal as she nuzzles her cheek into your shoulder.
“You know, we’re supposed to be practicing our healing potions, not hugging.”
Lou gives you a big smile, squeezing you even tighter. “I just missed you and Atticus so much.”
A part of you knows you shouldn’t entertain her efforts, but at the confession, you had to admit that you missed her too. Phone calls and letters aren’t something you are good at keeping up with, so when you finally saw each other again, there was a lot to catch up on. “But you missed me more, right?”
You hug her tightly, the two of you swaying for a little before your fingers find the top of her waist, and you pinch just enough to tickle her. She jolts backward with a yelp, and a snort leaves your lips, taking the opportunity to return to your task. “You missed us so much you’re willing to stay with us for another week?”
“Honestly? I want to stay more for your dad.” Your movements come to a halt before you could even start, gaze shifting slowly to Lou’s crooked smile.
“Don’t be weird.” You grimace, and she bursts out laughing. That was one comment that held the same connotation of “will your brother be home too?” and you hated it. When it came from Lou, you know she was joking, mercilessly making fun of the situations you’ve found yourself time and time again. “One more comment, and I’m ditching you.”
Lou dramatically gasps, eyes crossing at the pestle you hover right over her nose before they flicker back to your narrow eyes. “I wasn’t being weird!”
“You just implied that my dad is hot.” Lou snorts, disrupting the theatrics of her fake offense.
“I didn’t imply that at all!” Lou defends herself, her words plagued with a subtle laugh.
“Your dad is hot?” Fletcher chimes in, appearing from behind the curtain. His eyes scan whatever report that’s on the clipboard in his hand, but his ears tune in to your bickering.
“You literally did. I knew what you meant.”
“Is your dad hot?” Fletcher repeats with an eagerness for the answer this time. His question echos throughout the tent, catching the attention of both his sister Harper and Silena, who were gossiping at the main desk just a few seconds ago.
“No!” You snap, and your arms cross over your chest as the four break out into sly giggles. Why does this always happen to me? You think to yourself, not really wanting to continue this conversation.
Fletcher jumps with a goofy smile on his lips as Harper flicks her hand to smack his chest. “Obviously, she doesn’t think her dad is hot. That would be weird.” Harper returns her gaze, eyes scanning you up and down. “So, do you have a picture?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, and Lou laughs with pride for the chaos she started. Gee, thanks, Lou. Who wouldn’t enjoy being harassed about how attractive their dad apparently is? And even their brother? From like everyone they know.
“Take my word for it. He is.” Silena chimes in, propping her legs and crossing them on top of the informational desk.
You were about to ask how she knew what he looked like, then the memory of walking into Silena’s father’s chocolate store during last year's holiday season had sped to the forefront of your mind. Even the simple recalling of Silena teasing you about your dad’s appearance has you cringing as hard as the first time.
“Wait. You’ve seen her dad?” Fletcher asks, surprised, and he opens his mouth to speak —probably to add something even more humiliating—but to your luck, he stops himself.
Silena winks over at you, popping the bubble she made with her gum. “Their family shopped at my dad’s chocolate store once.”
“Silena.” Her name comes out in a drawn-out groan that only makes her smile even more. She had given you that same mischievous smile when your father had introduced himself to Mr. Beauregard. When you had walked away to take a look at the bonbon selection, Silena came over and blatantly called your dad a “hottie just like your brother.”
You’re pretty sure that statement was permission to vomit everywhere, but you opted with just staying quiet. Why are they always called attractive anyways? It made you think that you should be offended, but technically, since you looked like Atticus, if he was ugly… so were you. And he wasn’t ugly, according to everyone.
Recently, you joked about Atticus’s many admirers while you had none. Then your lovely brother told you that the boys at school didn’t approach you because they were scared of you. It made you laugh. You couldn’t help but find the thought ridiculous, but when you took time to notice it, the realization hit you like a truck. It turns out that beating up every kid who was mean to Atticus growing up had backfired, but it didn’t matter. With all the crazy demigod stuff, you couldn’t imagine dating a regular mortal anyways.
“Her dad looks great in navy blue,” she comments. Of course, Silena remembers what he wore that day. You couldn’t expect anything less from a child of Aphrodite.
“Do you have a picture or not?” Harper asks again, and you grunt.
“No, I don’t!”
“He’s like an older Atticus,” Silena continues, and Fletcher nods, looking up in the air as if he imagines it.
“So he is hot,” he decides.
“I’m gonna throw up.” Your confession sends laughter throughout the room, and you peer down at your spellbook. You hoped it was enough to show them that you’re checking out of the conversation. Lucky for you, they get the hint and change the topic when Silena mentions her father is dropping off chocolates for the Winter Solstice festival this weekend.
The others occupy Lou long enough to let you work on the potion for that poor kid. Just a few minutes ago, the task seemed like the most complicated task ever, but as you’re flying through it, you don’t understand how it took you this long. Michael emerges from the curtains asking for the potion right as you bottle it up and you pass it to him, crossing your fingers that it catches on well.
“Um, we have a crisis here.” Atticus’s voice rings in the air right as he appears, carrying Nico on his back. The boy rests his chin on his shoulder, his tear-stained cheeks taking you back to the restless night you both had a couple of days ago.
“What happened?” You and Lou ask in unison, and you approach the two boys with Fletcher.
Fletcher scans Nico, studying his injuries. “Sprained ankle?” He guesses before Atticus can answer.
“Yeah. He rolled his ankle climbing the Lava Wall.”
Atticus flinches under your glare. “You were supposed to be watching him.”
“I was watching him. He sprained his ankle and didn’t fall into the Lava. I call that a success.” Nico grumbles something unintelligible that makes Atticus smile, and the older boy whispers an amused apology.
Fletcher reaches over, carefully lifting Nico’s pant leg to take a quick look. You wince at the bruise forming along his ankle while the child of Apollo hums analytically.
He steps back to make room in Atticus’s path. “You can put him down on bed five. Some nectar will fix that up. He’ll be walking fine by dinner.”
Atticus adjusts Nico on his back, hoisting him up higher before disappearing behind the curtains. You make a mental note to scold Atticus when he comes back. Nico shouldn’t have been on the Lava wall anyways; he had just gotten to camp, and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even reach the height limit.
Sitting in your seat, you watch the banter between the older Apollo kids and one of their youngest campers Will. They laugh and pester him for being so late to his shift, and Fletcher announces jokingly he’s going to cut his pay.
“We don’t even get paid,” Will grumbles, and Fletcher puts him in a weak chokehold to ruffle up his hair. The younger boy’s attempts to escape make his siblings laugh, and you smile, Will reminding you of Nico at that moment.
“Hey, Willie. I have your first job for you.” Silena catches the furrowing of your eyes, sending a wink in your direction before returning her gaze to the blonde. “Kid name Nico sprained his ankle. You should help him. Pick up your weight,” she teases.
The sing-song tone of her suggestion was the same as the day she innocently made the proposition that left you and Percy alone in the strawberry fields. She was obviously up to something, but it seems you’re the only one that noticed. Fletcher just pats Will’s back and simply tells the boy to “chop, chop.”
Once Will disappears in the curtains, Atticus returns, and your eyes immediately narrow at him. He gives you a sheepish smile. Not only do your eyes serve as a warning, but so does the agitation radiating off of you and on to him.
“Okay, listen.” His hands come up in a defensive position, and you lean back into the wall behind you. “I didn’t want him to climb the wall either. BUT…” Atticus sticks his fingers out the moment you open your mouth to protest. “He’s been off since breakfast. Recently, he’s been down in the dumps, but it’s really obvious today.”
A frown plagues your features. “Has he told you anything new?”
“He’s worried about his sister. He says he feels like something bad happened. I told him he’s probably just psyching himself out, but it’s obvious he’s stressed. After I did the Lava Wall, he wanted to try it, and I figured why not? It would get his mind off of his sister for a while. I was ready to interfere with a hovering spell if he fell off… I just didn’t think he’d roll his ankle while he was climbing.”
Your sigh doesn’t do much to wash away the bad feeling in your gut. There was little doubt in your mind that something terrible did happen. The morning of Nico’s bad dream had sent your fingers tingling to review Percy’s reading from the top of your head. You wanted to prove your suspicions wrong, but some things made too much sense to ignore.
“Yeah. He’s been different since he had that dream,” you mention, and Atticus nods. The next day you confided in Atticus about what Nico told you, and he had the same worry. He didn’t need any explanation to understand where your frame of thinking was going, but neither of you wanted to speak it out into the universe.
“I’m just…” Atticus holds his tongue, and you tilt your head, silently coxing him to speak what he wanted to say. “I just don’t understand how she can leave him like this.” His face hardens, and you shift on your feet, not expecting his mood to change suddenly. “Picking up and just leaving your little brother behind because he annoys you? I mean, I only know Nico’s side of the story, but the poor kid adores his sister, and she wants nothing to do with him.”
The confession had stuck you with surprise and even hurt. Ouch.
You didn’t think Atticus had an opinion of what happened between Nico and Bianca, and you didn’t expect he’d be this passionate about it. The words had nothing to do with you, but you took it to heart.
A knot forms in your throat and your mouth is open, but nothing comes out. You’re afraid that if you try to speak, you’ll have to strain to say anything. Will Atticus react this way if you tell him you’re joining the hunters? The betrayal that seeps through the utterance of each word, would it be there when he spoke of you?
“I mean, maybe there’s more to the story than Nico has noticed,” Lou chimes in, and you’re glad she did because still, you couldn’t find the words.
“I don’t know. I just feel bad for him.” Atticus shrugs.
You wonder if distance would affect how you felt Atticus’s emotions. It was a question you’ve never asked before, but right now, the urge for an answer is eating away at you. This brew of his grief, anger, stress, would it reach miles and miles out and strike you in the chest just as it does right now? You imagine how it would feel, sensing his every emotion, his strikes of pain. If something were wrong, you’d feel it and wouldn’t be able to come to his aid. How cruel would it be to sense all his grief from your departure for weeks, maybe even months after? It would just be a brutal reminder of all the sadness you left in your wake.
You don’t think you can live with that, and you want to make the decision so you won’t have to, but when you return to the reason for all of this, your chest grows heavier. Joining the hunters seemed like your only way out.
“Yeah, I feel bad for him too,” you mumble, and Lou frowns, gaze switching between you and Atticus as if she is also a part of your clashing emotions.
☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆
“What is this?!” Nico shouts loud enough over the music from across the courtyard. A paper plate filled with funnel cake covered in mountains of powdered sugar rests on his palms, and his eyes glint with wonder.
“You’ve never seen this before? It’s funnel cake. Fried dough with a bunch of sugar on top,” you explain, passing him a fork. He balances the plate on his left palm and pokes at it with the utensil.
“This is sugar?! All of it?” You nod, and you’re not sure how but the sparkle in his orbs brightens even more. He stabs the dough and slides it towards his mouth, and Nico looks as if he’s taken a bite of the most decadent dessert in the world.
“Good?” You ask through your laughter, and Nico gives you a sugar-coated grin. He’s too busy clearing his mouth for the next bite to provide you with a verbal confirmation, so he just nods.
“Okay!” Atticus chimes in, slinging his arm around your shoulders, and he traps Lou in the same position on his other side. “What are we doing first? I think we should do the dunk tank, and Y/n should sit inside of it.”
A snort leaves Lou Ellen, and Atticus gives you a funny grin. “Yeah, no. I don’t want to get wet, and I can’t swim.”
Atticus grunts, glancing over at the Camp Half-Blood interpretation of the Dunk Tank. Instead of a tank, the seat is over the lake, dropping you right into the cold water. “Boo. Where were you when I was taking swimming lessons?”
“Refusing to take swimming lessons,” you retort, and Lou giggles, eyebrows furrowing.
“Why?”
“Because Y/n here is a scaredy-cat and cried every time she was near a body of water until she was like ten.” Lou laughs, her expression telling you she doesn’t believe it, but as seconds pass and you don’t come to your defense, her laughter becomes louder.
“No way!”
Atticus snorts, the both of them staring at you as you shift on your feet. “I don’t like pools, okay?”
“Or lake, or oceans, or ponds—”
“Ponds aren’t that bad.” You wiggle your way out of Atticus’s grip, and Lou’s face of disbelief remains. Her running thoughts display all over her features, and you already know what’s coming.
“Really? Bodies of water?”
“It’s a valid fear! Any sane person is afraid of the ocean!”
“Okay, I get the ocean but POOLS?”
“Let’s go play some skeeball.” Both Atticus and Lou laugh, making jokes loud enough for you to hear while you walk away from them. You turn around briefly to narrow your eyes at them, but it only fuels the running joke.
Nico ends up becoming your distraction, jogging to your side and quickly joining you for the skeeball game. If there were any suspicion that he is an Apollo kid, it would go down the drain after watching him play his game of skeeball. Atticus tried to get him to aim a little better and throw the balls a little softer, but almost every single time, the ball barely made it in the cage where the holes are.
His consistent defeat made him venture off to play something else, and so did his curiosity. He mentioned he’s never seen most of the games at the fair, and Nico could barely contain his excitement to try it all. The boy’s never-ending energy wore you and Lou out quickly, but Atticus took one for the team, the latter seemingly unphased at being tugged in every which way.
The night passes fast, and it’s festive until the last hour. Even Mr. D looks content, overseeing the events as if feeding off all the high energy. Hours of activities and stuffing yourself with sweets with your brother and friends quickly took your mind off of every worry you’ve had these last few days. Even Nico was temporarily relieved of his troubles, too caught up with everything around him as if all of it was new to him.
If only life allowed you to sit in this state of contentment forever. You wouldn’t have to worry about that stupid fairy queen, or joining the hunters, or Nico’s sister if only you could live in the last few hours forever. The rise and fall of your night were quick and unruly. You felt sick at the way your mood soured as the word of Percy returning with Annabeth quickly spread through the crowds.
The burdens of the last few days return to your shoulders with a velocity that made you want to crumble. Nico heard Percy’s name in a passing conversation before you even did. Suddenly, he was shoving his bag of cotton candy and the teddy bear Atticus won for him into your hands. You thought he was excited to play another game, but instead, he ran through the crowd, weaving through the bodies as fast as he could. He made a beeline to the big house, and that’s when you heard Connor mention Percy was back from his quest.
Atticus rests his hand against your shoulder. He meant it to be a comforting gesture, but it just weighed down your body even more. You know being guilty was irrational. There wasn’t much you could do, and at no point was it the brightest idea to tell Nico, who was already worried, that all the signs of his sister's death lit up like fireworks.
“We made sure he had fun these last few days. It was all we could do,” Atticus spoke as if he could read your mind.
You hated that he was right. It was all you could do, but that made you feel more helpless than consoling.
☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆
The Hades statue, the last present from his sister, is small but feels like a thousand pounds in your grasp. Your eyes flicker between the small toy and the giant crack of the marble steps. The night grew colder, and the emptiness of your surroundings just put an eerie overcast at Percy’s retelling of Bianca’s sudden death. Regret fills his words, and you feel bad for him almost as much as you felt for Nico. You could just tell that he took the responsibility of keeping Bianca safe seriously, and he was angry at himself for failing.
“The cards, the charms, it all came true.” Percy’s eyes graze on the darkened horizon, and you find yourself reaching over to grab his cold hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
Percy was the last person you expected to come running into the Hermes cabin as you impatiently waited for Nico’s return. Atticus took his shoes from you, urging you to sit just as he noticed you were cleaning to keep your restless mind busy. When you tidied up your space, you decided to tidy Atticus’s and then planned to work on Lou’s. A part of you hoped that when you finished, Nico would return, and you wouldn’t end up staring at the front door like you were a few moments before.
But to no avail, the minutes passed, and he still hadn’t returned. You figured, maybe, he was speaking with his sister and saying his final farewell before she ran off with the hunters. Perhaps she was telling him everything that happened on the quest, and considering Nico’s one-hundred questions, you wouldn’t put past him to hold her up.
“I’m sure he’ll come around,” Atticus said, and he gave you a weary smile. It didn't help that he looked as if he didn’t believe it himself.
Just then, the cabin door opens but instead of a gloomy Nico, you were met with a panicked Percy. His eyes scanned the room before they halted at the catching of your eyes. You rose from your bed, and you forcibly held back the tears threatening to form in your eyes. Percy didn’t have to say any words because as his panicked look turned into sorrow, you knew that your unfortunate prediction had come true.
You couldn’t find the words to comfort Percy. Something tells you that even if you insist that none of this was his fault, he wouldn’t believe it. There’s a silence that falls between you, your hands finding warmth in each other. After another beat or two, Percy’s grip tightens around your hand, and he sighs. He goes off to tell you about the skeletons, how the floor opened up at Nico’s command, the way his eyes had a ring of red around them, and how he fled into the forest with no conviction.
“Atticus and I had our suspicions about his godly parent,” you admit after Percy hints at who it could be. “Ambrose could touch him like he was any normal dog. Our first thought was that he was our brother, but… this was always at the back of our mind.” Your eyes grace the forest trees to your left. “Ambrose and I have to find him. He couldn’t have gone far.”
The hound on your side stands tall from his seated position beside you. You release Percy’s hand, leaning down and ruffling his fur encouragingly. “You remember his scent, right? Lead me to him, okay?" The dog gives you a gargled snort, telling you he understood, and you return to your feet.
“Y/n, there’s a blizzard going on right now,” Percy protests, and you didn’t mean to glare at him. You didn’t even know you were until he backed down, undaring to say anything more.
“Ambrose can track him down quickly. Nico barely has any formal training; he could die out there.” You don’t wait for his response before your eyes close, a familiar tug forming in your gut. There’s a bone-chilling breeze, shadows from every direction beginning to swallow you whole.
The picnic table will be a good place to start. If Nico isn’t there, you’ll search outward. Ambrose could find a needle in a haystack with just his nose; there is no doubt in your mind you wouldn’t be able to find him tonight.
The last thing you see is Percy’s face, unnerving and appearing as if he wanted to protest once again. If he did, he was too late, the shadows overtaking you, and you were on your way to your destination.
Fluffy snowflakes shoot down fast, harsh on the exposed skin of your cheeks. You only dressed warm enough to talk Percy outside for a few minutes, meaning you threw on a jacket and put some slippers on. As you squint your eyes to avoid getting snow into them, you realize when Percy said a blizzard, he meant it. You wished you had a scarf and some actual boats but getting them right now felt like a waste of time.
It would only take five minutes, but five minutes could mean everything in the search for Nico. In five minutes, a monster can attack him. In five minutes, he could twist an ankle. In five minutes, he could reach the main road. So you make do with what you have, a thin jacket with a hoodie and fluffy slippers.
Ambrose smells the snow while you look for footprints, even though you’re sure small prints like Nico’s would be covered quickly in this weather. It doesn’t take long for Ambrose to snort, and he stands tall, eyes scanning the forest.
The reaction makes you nervous. Either a monster is on his radar, or he’s caught a whiff of Nico’s scent. The muscles on his body clench, and suddenly, his tail wags rapidly, and you figured it must be the latter. He speeds a few feet ahead, and you try to keep up as fast as you can, cringing at the wads of snow that melt and seep into your pajama pants.
It shouldn’t be long until you find him. If you had to suck it up and deal with some frostbite, you will.
The trek toward his scent was uninterrupted for a good ten minutes. The freezing air rushing in and out of your nostrils makes your lungs burn, and a grunt escapes your lips. For someone with short legs, he got some serious distance. At this point, the slippers on your feet were done for, so soaked with freezing water that your toes felt like you stepped in a pile of needles, but you couldn’t stop.
Finally, Ambrose barks erratically, his tail wagging so fast you would think it’s ready to fall off. He has to be close. The realization sparks a sense of relief, but you didn’t want to give in too soon. As Ambrose bolts ahead instead of waiting for you to catch up, you swore you had seen someone shift behind a tree.
Your wobbling, freezing legs push a little bit more to take you towards Ambrose, and when he finally comes into view, the hound is circling a patch of snow. He sniffs and sniffs and sniffs before whining, giving you sad puppy eyes. Among Ambrose’s paws in the snow were footprints so small that they could only be Nico’s, which tells you he was just here. But the prints left you at a dead end as if he disappeared into thin air.
At first, you thought it was impossible, but then you slowly considered the possibility that he did. He could have shadow traveled is the first thought you weigh. Any powers he possessed you haven’t seen, but judging from Percy’s story, if Nico can crack open the ground and summon skeleton soldiers to his will, there’s no doubt he could figure out how to shadow travel by coincidence.
A string of curses leaves your lips, and if you weren’t so apprehensive about your hands, you would have shaken the tree in front of you in anger. Who knows where he could be now? You could only hope that he would come back when he cooled down.
Your eyes stared southward in the direction you came from. You didn’t want to, but the situation was out of your hands, so you unwillingly shadow traveled back to camp. Within the borders, it was about 30 degrees warmer than outside, which meant the frost on your clothes melted rapidly, leaving you shivering, damp, frustrated, and sad.
By this time of night, campers have deserted the courtyard. The machines and lights that earlier burst with energy are unplugged and left to deal with in the morning, leaving an eerie remembrance of the great night you had. The high energy, the laughter, the memories that just occurred wisped away with the chilly wind, and you stood in the middle of it all, trying to understand how in a few hours, everything had changed.
☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆
The nymphs outdid themselves today. Too bad you couldn’t bear to stomach any of it.
Your fork pokes at the roast on your plate, the food growing cold by the second. Talks of everyone’s plans for Christmas and all the fun things that occurred last night fill the table. On your left, Connor tells your brother and Lou about how he and Travis tried to teepee the big house. But Mr. D ruined their plans when he caught them, turned them into snakes, and held them captive in a tank for half of the night.
A soft sigh leaves your lips, and your disinterest drowns out the chattering. As your gaze adverts from the plate in front of you, you catch Percy’s eyes from across the pavilion. He awkwardly shifts in his seat, and he gives you a sad, sheepish smile, and you find enough in you to return it. He still felt terrible about what happened, you can tell. You told him you shouldn't blame himself, but he couldn’t shake off his guilt. Prophecies are warnings. Rarely can you change them. There was no one to blame for her death other than the fates.
“Earth to Y/n?” Connor waves his hand in front of your face. “Did you bring the gifts?”
“Hm?” You shift in your seat, not processing what he said. His eyes flicker in the direction you were looking before he smirks knowingly.
“The gifts. You said you would bring them to dinner so we can open them.”
“Oh right.” You feel your cheeks get hot. Great, now Connor thinks you were ogling at Percy or something. It doesn’t really help your case since he swears you’re in love with him. Which you’re not, you’re not sure why everyone thinks so. “I— uh, forgot them.”
“Something’s on your mind,” he teases.
Yeah, a lot of things are on your mind, like how Nico disappeared and how he can be anywhere by now. Or he could be dead… gods, you really hope he isn’t dead.
But you know who is actually dead?
Bianca.
And you know who could die?
You, if you join the hunters.
Which would ruin the whole point of you joining the hunters in the first place. But what was your other option? With the hunters, at least you could dodge death a little longer than if you stay a mortal. Then that stupid fairy queen has to wait, if you’re lucky, a hundred years before you she can get her hands on your baby. But maybe, by then, she would have found her martyr in some other kid, who knows?
But if you leave to the hunters, Atticus will be devastated, and so will you, even if you try to act all strong. Now the whole ordeal with Nico and Bianca has given you a real-life example of how your brother could react if you do leave, and now you know for sure you’ll break his heart.
So, can you really leave?
Y/n, do you really have the strength to go?
At this point, you don’t know, and it’s eating you alive, but Connor just thinks Percy’s cute face with his pretty green eyes and freckles, and his pink lips are the only thing you’re thinking about. And sure, sometimes you think about it, but “sometimes” is not right now.
Anger boils in your chest, and Connor misreads you, his smirk only growing. The sight of his expression makes you want to tell him you’re keeping his gift, but that would be mean. You’d just be taking your frustration out on him.
“I’ll get them,” you say quickly. Connor chuckles at how you shoot up from your seat, ready to remove yourself before he can publicly humiliate you. “I’ll be back.”
You take the long way back to the Hermes Cabin just so you can collect your thoughts. The loud chatters of the dining pavilion sound less and less as you finally make it past the empty courtyard and onto the steps of the cabin.
All of the presents you and Atticus bought for the Hermes Cabin gift exchange are exactly where you left them, right on your bed. Lou and Atticus were going on about wanting to use a ouija board, and you got so carried away at explaining why that’s such a bad idea that you left it behind.
A soft sigh leaves your lips, and you grab ahold of the bag and sling it over your shoulder. Right as you turn on your heels, the hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you gasp. Your eyes scan the room frantically, trying to find the source of the draft. Ambrose growls beside you, and your gaze snaps in the direction of a creaking floor panel towards the back of the cabin.
A swirling dark shadow appears, and a protection spell lays at the tip of your tongue. Please, please, please don’t let it be what I think it is, you think. The thought of dealing with another demon fills with absolute dread and not even fear at this point.
Before you can utter the spell to cast it away, the shadows unravel a face. “Nico?” For a moment, you couldn’t believe it was him, but as he exposes his form, a sense of relief washes over you. “Oh my god, Nico! Where have you been?”
“You told me there was a spell for almost everything.” Nico glowers dangerously, completely ignoring your question. Your smile falters before it can fully form, fingers gripping the bag of presents tighter. “Is there a spell to bring people back to life?"
“No,” you deny without much thought. Of course, there is, but it wasn’t a spell to mess with. Your brothers hid away the black magic book that held all of the spells of this caliber, and recently, you and Lou found them in the tunnels under the big house. Just reading the spell sent a shiver up your spine, and then your whole body awakened at the fact that someone had attempted it. Whether it was successful or not, it didn’t say.
“Don’t lie to me.” Nico’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and the red ring around his eyes glows brighter. Even if you deny the existence of a spell, Nico wouldn’t believe you, and from the way he stands his ground, it seems like he’ll figure out a way to get it himself.
"Nico—"
"Can you or can you not?”
Your eyes falter elsewhere. Nico barely looked like himself. The darkness of grief and anger has overtaken his orbs that shone with a certain innocence and excitement. “I can, but it's not a perfect spell. There are too many factors.”
Nico stands tall. “Like what?"
“Well, you need her body, and you don't have it. A soul needs a body, and to even find her soul is a whole other ordeal and—”
You have to kill someone and exchange their soul for the one you need for the revival.
Your scan the tiles ahead as if they held the details to the spell. “Nico, it's too much.”
“I don't care as long as I can bring my sister back.”
“Your sister would want you to move on.”
“You don't even know my sister—!”
“But I know the dead! The dead, they’re sorrowful and regretful, but they are wise because they've lived and reflected.” You shift on your feet. “Your sister wouldn't want you to bring her back. Her death was written in her fate, Neeks. We shouldn’t interfere.”
“Be quiet!”
You open your mouth, but the words don’t come out as Nico’s eyes falter to your desk. Schist, in speaking of dark magic books, it was laying pretty on your desk. You were doing some reading and debated whether or not to lock it back in your trunk before leaving for dinner. There was an urge to put it away, but you ignored it, and right now, you seriously wish you hadn’t.
Nico moves fast, and you race over to the desk, the bag of presents spilling over as you release it. Both of your hands attempt to snatch the book away, and he grunts as you gather all your strength to straggle it from his grasp.
“Nico, no! No!” You hold the book tightly against your chest, eyes watering at the sight of his own. Blinking them away, you glance down at your arms. “No one can cheat death,” you crook. “Not me, not you, not even the gods. The universe has an order, and when you mess with that order, things get bad. Really bad."
For a moment, you swore Nico’s face had softened. You hoped it would be then that Nico would give up this quest of bringing his sister back. There are no words, his mouth still in a frown, but suddenly his eyes darken once again. “If you won't help me, I'll figure it out myself."
“Nico,” you begin, and the boy makes a beeline to the exit. Right as you move to go after him, shadows collect and morphe around his body, and you panic. Once he shadow travels out of this room, who knows when you’ll see him again. “Nico, wait!” You pleaded, and the desperation in your voice was enough to make him release the shadows.
He turns around, expression expectant. You can’t give in to this idea, and you won’t. Doing this spell required murder and treason toward the order of the universe. Sometimes you were willing to push the rules, but not like this; you vow to never push them like this. “If I can get you in contact with your sister and she tells you not to bring her back, would that be enough to stop you?”
Nico doesn’t say anything, shifting on his feet. The movement tells you he was willing to listen, and you continue before he can decide otherwise. “We can do a seance, okay? We can ask her to come forward and speak to us if she wishes to. I cannot bring her back, Nico. I really can’t, but I can do this for you. Let me do this for you.”
A stray tear escapes his waterline and drips straight down his cheek and right to the tiles under his feet. His lip quivers, and his throat bobs, collecting the words he wished to speak. “Okay,” is all he settles with, and he barely utters it.
“Okay,” you repeat, wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater, and you give him a sad smile he doesn’t return. “Hang around the picnic table near Zeus’s fist. Atticus, Lou, and I will meet you there as soon as we can get away.”
“And you won’t tell anyone that I’m here?” he asks warily, looking around the room, afraid someone will suddenly reveal they’ve been present the entire time.
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
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#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#percy jackson oneshot#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson fanfiction#percy jackson fic#my writing#leo valdez x reader#heroes of olympus#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson au#percy jackson and the olympian fanfic#percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction#percy jackson and the olympians fic
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Trust Me - Cedric Diggory
Pairing: Cedric Diggory x fem!reader
Summary: First times can be nerve wracking, but your boyfriend Cedric guides you through it.
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: smut, 18+ themes, losing virginity, oral (female receiving)
I went over to my boyfriend’s apartment after a long day of interning with The Quibbler and plopped down on the couch next to my boyfriend, Cedric, who was laying down and reading a book.
“Hey love, how was your day?” he asked as he put down his book and hugged me close.
“Awful, Skeeter wouldn’t leave us alone today so we got nothing done,” I sighed, “How was your day?”
“Pretty boring, Quidditch practice ended early and so I’ve just been here, waiting for you to come over,” He said. I smiled and curled into him as he started tracing circles on my back. He kissed my forehead softly.
“I’m going to get a glass of water, do you want anything?” I said, finally getting out of the couch.
“I’m good, thank you,” he said.
As I was pouring myself a glass of water, a pair of arms sneaked around my waist.
“I thought you didn’t want anything?” I questioned, putting the glass down.
“I remembered something I did want,” he said, turning me around to face him and bringing his lips down to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him softly.
Soon he was deepening the kiss and had pushed my back against the kitchen counter. His hands now moved from my waist to the bottom of my shirt, slipping underneath it to grab at my hips. His kisses were full of passion, and I was almost having trouble matching his energy.
“Can I take this off?” he asked with a breathy voice, tugging at the hemline of my shirt. I thought about it for a second before nodding. The minute my shirt was off I felt too exposed, and tried to hide myself.
“Love, what’s wrong? Why are you hiding from me?” he asked, placing a hand under my chin so I would look up at him.
“I just, I’m just nervous,” I stuttered.
“Why are you nervous?” he sincerely asked.
“I just, I’ve never done...well, anything…” I admitted, feeling my face burn red.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” Cedric said, kissing my cheek.
“I want to do this, I just...I don’t know what I’m doing,” I blushed.
“I’m not going to judge you. We just have to communicate,” he said. “I am a little shocked though, didn’t you date George Weasley for a couple years when we were at Hogwarts?”
“Yes, but we never did anything past making out in the corridors. We were never alone long enough to do anything,” I laughed, thinking back to the days at the burrow where Fred or Percy always managed to interrupt.
“Do you trust me?” Cedric asked.
“Yes, I trust you,” I answered, wrapping my arms around his neck. He kissed me deeply before taking my hand and leading me to his bedroom. As I got on his bed, Cedric took off his shirt and crawled over on top of me.
He kissed me deeply, running his tongue along my bottom lip as one hand went down to my chest. His hand ghosted over the top of my breasts before massaging one gently.
I moaned softly as his lips trailed down my neck in chaste kisses, sucking lightly at my sweet spots. I played with his hair as he kissed down the valley between my breasts, slowly moving down to the waistband of my leggings. He looked up at me and raised his eyebrows, silently asking for permission. I silently answered and lifted my hips slightly so that he could pull them down.
The minute my leggings were down I closed my legs together, completely shy and nervous about being so exposed to someone. Cedric kissed each hip before slowly spreading my legs apart.
“Don’t hide from me love, I want to see you,” he assured me, slowly massaging my thighs. I nodded, watching his moves intently. One hand slowly started rubbing circles over my covered clit, causing my hips to press forward.
“How does this feel?” he asked, making eye contact with me.
“Good, it feels...very good,” I stammered out. He smirked and sped up the circles, eliciting quiet moans from me.
“Can I take these off?” He asked, snapping the band of my underwear. I nodded quickly and lifted my hips for him. Yet again, I tried to close my legs at the realization of my exposure.
“Trust me, love,” he said, holding my legs in place. Light kisses were placed on my inner thighs, slowly moving to my center. Cedric locked eyes with me as he lightly licked a stripe up my soaking center, causing my eyes to roll back in my head. He repeated this action again, circling my clit when he reached the top.
“Fuck..” I breathed out as he focused his attention on the bundle of nerves. His tongue continued its gentle circles as he slowly inserted his middle finger into my dripping core, slowly moving it in and out. It felt a bit strange at first, but soon it felt amazing, causing my hips to buck up towards him.
“How’s this?” He asked, checking in to make sure I was okay.
“Great,” I breathed out. He chuckled at my response before returning his attention to my body. He picked up speed and curled his finger slightly, hitting a new spot that made me feel even better.
“Mmm, I think...I...I think I’m going to cum baby,” I moaned out.
“Cum for me, baby,” Cedric said, reattaching his mouth to my clit. I moaned out his name as my body found its release. He licked up my slit a few times before crawling up and pressing a deep kiss to my lips.
“Are you ready for more?” He asked, “We can stop there if you want.”
“No, I want you, Cedric,” I said, moving my hands down to unbutton his pants. He hopped off the bed and slipped off his pants and boxers, releasing his impressive length. He must have caught me staring, because he crawled on top of me and kissed me quickly.
“We can still stop if you want to, I don’t mind,” he assured me.
“No, I want to, I just, I’m just a nervous,” I admitted, for the millionth time.
“I’ll go slow, darling,” he said, positioning himself between my legs. He spit on his hand and pumped his length before rubbing the tip over my soaking pussy. The action had me moaning and he had barely touched me yet.
True to his words, he slowly pushed his tip into my pussy, watching me to make sure I was okay. It didn’t hurt as much as I had expected; it was just slightly uncomfortable as he stretched me in a way I had never felt before. He held still as he filled me up, allowing time to adjust to his size.
He then slowly moved his hips, gently thrusting into me. The small moans coming from his mouth turned me on more than I already was, causing me to tighten around him.
“Fuck darling, you feel so good,” He moaned out, slowly quickening up his pace. I moaned out as he managed to brush up against my clit at the peak of his thrusts. He took one hand and used his thumb to rub circles around my clit as he thrust his hips deeply into mine. I felt my second orgasm coming quickly, and I think his was coming too as his thrusts were less consistent than before.
“Are you close?” He asked, and I could only nod and moan in response. He leaned down to kiss me before moving down to my neck, sucking at the sweet spot below my ear. This pushed me over the edge, cumming for a second time. My pussy tightened around him, edging him closer and closer, and finally pushing him over the edge as well as he released inside me.
He rode out both of our highs before collapsing next to me on the bed.
“I love you so much,” He said quietly, wrapping an arm around my waist and curling up to me.
“I love you too,” I sighed, “Now I’m going to go take a shower.”
“Can I join?”
#smut#harry potter smut#cedric Diggory smut#cedric Diggory x reader#cedric Diggory x reader smut#hp smut#cedric x y/n#cedric diggory#kinkmas#cedric Diggory kinkmas
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Rivals. Nothing more. (1/2)
> Percy is annoyed on how Annabeth always was. Her passion to win, to suceed, to be better than him. He hates that. It's totally not hot, or whatever.
> Warnings: swearing and kinda (?) suggestive undertones, my writing
> Genre: fluff, mutual pinning, Percy having a huge fat crush on Annabeth.
You can find the second part here!
Percy wasn't very fond of smartasses who talked back.
I mean, who wouldn't? They were truly insufferable; acting like they knew everything and spat out facts here and there, all high and mighty.
Annabeth fit that description perfectly.
She's such a stuck up nerd; always beating his spot just opened place higher than him. When they spar, Percy can't help but feel a overwhelming urge pushing him to win. Annabeth struck back with the same passion, every strike, slash, push, thrust, holds her need for victory.
And when Percy does win after a long match? It feels amazing. The refreshing mood when you get exactly what you want- for once beating enemy number one. Annabeth shakes hands with him after and it infuriates him all over again. Why can't she feel more embarassed? Devestated? Shame? She walks away from the training arena calmly like she won over him.
Oh, Annabeth does feel embarassed. Devestated, too. But the look in Percy's eyes when she acts all stoic- seated stop her high horse- is simply electrifying. No better feeling than antagonizing your rivals, right?
They first meet at twelve. Both still young and insufferable, being the natural rivals they were. After all, their godly parents were two of the biggest rivals between one another: Athena and Posiedon.
Then they’re thirteen. Rivals, yes, but they can get along better now. Much better, in fact. Annabeth just feels the tiniest bit of attraction. It's just platonic. That's what she likes to tell herself, really.
Fourteen and Percy and her still bickering and arguing like usual. They can respect each other's boundaries still, all while they make crude jokes about the other. People say that they might be best friends, but the two of them shoot their ideas out of their heads. Who would wan't to be friends with that loser, anyways?
The ripe age of fifteen. Same old Percy, and same old Annabeth. They grow stronger together, and even more stronger as they progress. It's such a heartwarming thing to watch. Annabeth becomes more aware of how Percy looks. His apearance. Once a couple inches shorter than her becomes level-height. And then Percy has the audacity to grow taller than her.
He likes to tease Annabeth about it. Holding books above her head, or anything he can grab that's hers. It's more blood-boiling when you remember the fact that people in ancient Greece associated height with power. Percy? Have more power than her? Unaceptable.
Percy on the flip side becomes more aware of how his endearing his rival becomes. Annabeth puts him in awe sometimes, incredibly witty and smart. But the snobbish attitude from her makes him want to gag. Maybe not as much as it did in the past other years. Annabeth, (as much as he hates to admit it) is someone he can trust. After years of being partners in both battle and else, that was expected. Percy still can't trust Annabeth with his blue cookies though.
Sixteen, finally. A confusing year for Percy. It becomes a growing problem for Percy when his heart beats erratically when Annabeth is near. Her shampoo smells so heavenly from where he's sitting, which is at the end of her bed. Annabeth sits crossed legged from him, flicking the pages of a book. Percy just saw the lights on from her cabin and crawled through the window. That would make her annoyed, right? No other reason; just to annoy her. Totally not because he wants to see her again.
Annabeth doesn't have the slightest clue in her mind about why she let him in. Or why he opted to sit on her bed directly, instead of sitting on one of the very comfortable seats in the large room. Annabeth doesn't complain. The cabin is empty; her other guests singing along at the campfire or elsewhere.
Percy gets up wordlessly as Annabeth continues to stare at her book. Words are flowing through, forming, but she can't seem to focus to comprehend the book.
She notices his arrival when the bed dips with his weight. Percy has a blob of water in mid-air, floating just above the palm of his hand.
“You better not get that on my bed,” Annabeth chides, “Or I'll make sure to kill you.”
“Really now?” Percy makes the water floating towards her, threatening to soak her face. It stops inches before her- stopping from wetting her clothes along with it. She doesn't flinch.
Annabeth gives a sticky sweet smile, but her eyes say otherwise. Something along the lines of 'You better be digging up your grave now'. Percy flinches back in surprise, hands braced in a defensive position. The water shifts and floats back to him... to only float around the room aimlessly.
It's times like this when he feels truly at peace. The air is tense, sure, but he feels calmer than ever before. It's liberating.
The water leaks a bit from the moving. Annabeth is amazed how it moves so effortlessly. It's Percy moving it, but that didn't matter. Sometimes Annabeth wished she had powers... Her smarts and wits were amazing, but she felt that she could achieve even more if she had them. It's a painful thought.
Percy sits back on her bed, staring at the white celling. Different coloured sticky notes and red strings are hooked together by flimsy thumb tacks. Talk about being a nerd.
Both lost in their thoughts and a good book, the water comes back around the room to splash on-
Just fucking peachy.
On Annabeth.
“Percy!” She screeches, hair damp with liquid and some finding it's way on her white shirt. Due to the thin fabric and cool water, he shirt becomes a little more. How do you put it? transparent. Translucent.
“Oh shit-” Percy jerks upwards, moving his hands around frantically. If he stares any longer, he might become more aware of the now visible uhm- undergarments. He also might notice that they are blue, his favourite colour, and how it looks so fucking good on her.
Okay, he's noticed all of that in a matter of seconds.
“Quit staring!” Annabeth protests more, as Percy gets up to face the wall and cover his eyes.
“I didn't mean to!” He says, still facing away from her. “I-it was a accident!” I swear!”
“Quit you're blubbering and get out!”
“Sorry!” Percy says again, and again. “I’m really sorry!” Until he finds his way to the large mahogany door and steps out.
“I- uh-" He tries to reasonate, tries to make up with her. But it's quickly shut off when Annabeth slams the door in his face. Leaving a very stuttering and blushing Percy.
Seventeen. It's a dreadful year for the two of them.
It becomes painfully clear why Percy had been a blushing, embarrassing mess around Annabeth. Clear on why he feels like he's on cloud nine when she pins him down in the sparing arena. And incredibly clear why Percy thinks about her eyes, her smile, her everything. Even the random facts he always thought was annoying and stupid leave marks on his brain.
The oblivious son of Poseidon denies his feelings. Just some rivalry feelings! Some of which include him wanting to kiss Annabeth so bad sometimes, or even wanting to hold hands while walking along the sand. Maybe he does have the occasional dream of some less than appropriate things. Percy's rather embarassed about that.
It's when Grover, his reliable and trustworthy best friend finally makes him realize his true feelings. Ones hidden layers of sarcasm and sharp jokes.
“You think about her twenty four seven,” Grover starts, leaning back on the thick trunk of the oak tree. Percy had just came to him mid-spar to tell him how Annabeth was absolutely destroying him.
“And you also blab about her nonstop. I dunno dude, that sounds like a crush to me.” Grover sighs heavily. Percy blinks once. Then twice. And then three times.
“Do you get jealous when you see her with someone else?”
“Yeah! It's sickening! I feel all weird and stuff, so I-”
“You have a crush~” Grover teases.
“No? I think it's just-"
“Its a crush, Percy. You're so oblivious that it'll never progress more than that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Percy scowls at him. A bead of sweat trails down his forehead, caused from the hours of training.
“It means you have to confess.” Grover simply states, getting up. His hooves clomp down on the hard-packed earth as he trails away. “You gotta do it sooner or later, before someone else does it!”
That thought makes bile rise in his stomach. Annabeth? Go out with someone's else? Other than him? No way. Negatory.
But what if she declines? Annabeth is completely free to do that; but Percy would probably die of heartbreak. And if she started to date someone? Percy would explode.
It's settled, then.
He's going to confess.
-
- a/n:
(re-uploaded to fix some mistakes, lol)
#percabeth fanfic#percy x annabeth#percabeth#percabeth oneshot#percy jackson#pjo thalia#annabeth pjo#pjo fluff#pjo oneshot#pjo#pjo fandom#percabeth fluff#percabeth angst#annabeth chase#grover underwood
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Take A Break
Notes: For the ask by @ticklish-sidekick who requested a Percy and Nico fic. Hope you enjoy!
Summary: Nico needs to take a break, but is being stubborn as usual. Luckily, Percy knows just how to handle obstinate demigods.
“Hya!”
Nico lunged forward suddenly, his sword clashing with Percy’s. He grunted, attempting to untangle the block, but Percy was too quick for that. He brought their swords up suddenly, flinging the weapon from his hands. Emptyhanded, Nico dodged around Percy’s sides, attempting to wrestle the sword from him physically instead. Percy kicked his leg out from under him, causing the other to stumble and fall backwards onto the grassy field. Before Nico could regain his bearings he found a sword brandished neatly at his throat.
Nico swallowed, a hearty flush coloring his cheeks from the exercise. “Okay. You win.”
“Ah, you’ll get it next time. It just takes practice.” Percy lowered the sword, offering him a hand up. As Nico grasped his hand however, he jerked him forward suddenly and Percy yelped as he fell to the ground beside him.
“What were you saying?” Nico teased. Percy threw a handful of grass in his face, prompting the other to duck with an amused chuckle.
When Percy had first approached Nico about combat lessons, he had refused him. He figured he was already decent enough with a sword, and he had fought off enough gods and monsters to be fairly self-sufficient. Eventually though, after a humbling conversation with Hazel, he ended up taking him up on it.
He had quickly realized that it wasn’t just swordsmanship that Percy was offering to teach either, and soon Nico was learning different hand-to-hand combat maneuvers and sparring at least once a week with the other. It became almost a challenge for the two, each trying to come up with new strategies to best the other. It was fun. For the first time in a long while, Nico was genuinely enjoying himself.
As with most things though, he had thrown himself completely into it and found that he was quickly overextending himself with each session. Percy watched as Nico flopped down on the grass, throwing one arm across his face. He could see the rise and fall of his chest as the boy attempted to regain his breath and took in the other’s obviously sore features.
“Exhausted yet?” Percy questioned, raising an eyebrow. “You want to take a break?”
“Not on your life,” Nico mumbled through the skin of his arm. “I could do this forever.”
“Right...” Percy crossed his arms in skeptical disbelief. There was no way Nico could go another round, especially training as hard as he had been. Still, he knew that simply saying that to the boy would have the exact opposite effect. He had to make him come to the conclusion himself. As he watched him, splayed out and vulnerable on the grass, an idea on how to do just that slowly started to form in Percy’s mind.
“Another round, huh?” Percy repeated, leaning forward on one knee to smirk at the boy. “In that case, maybe we should take it up a notch. A new level of training, something you’ve never experienced before.”
A thrill of excitement and worry trilled through Nico’s spine at the words and he slowly removed his arm to give Percy a curious look. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“It’s a surprise.” At Nico’s unimpressed glare, he quickly added, “It only works if you don’t know about it in advance. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Nico scoffed, but he didn’t resist as Percy shifted to face him, grabbing both of his legs in an armlock. Experimentally, he tugged at his legs but found them to be truly stuck. Due to his playful and silly nature, Nico often forgot how strong Percy genuinely was after years of training. There was no way he was getting out of this.
Noticing the worried look on his face, Percy asked, “Nervous?”
Nico flushed, averting his gaze. It didn’t help that Percy’s physical proximity was doing strange things to his heart, either. “No, of course not. Bring it on.”
“Okay. Just remember that you asked for this.”
Percy’s other hand was obscured from Nico’s vision, so he was only able to watch in confusion as Percy readied his attack. One finger, quick and sudden, slid down the length of his left sole, and Nico was unable to stop his leg from jerking back at the touch.
“W-What the hell?” Nico asked uncertainly, but soon the finger continued, tracing soft and lazy spirals all over his soles. “P-Pfft, h-hey! Jahackson!”
“Hmm?” Percy shot him back an innocent glance. “What’s wrong? I thought you said you could handle it?”
“Y-Yeah, combat t-training,” Nico gritted out, stuttering over his words as he tried to hold back the laughter quickly bubbling up in his throat. “Nohot t—” he broke off suddenly, a blush spreading across his cheeks like wildfire. He cleared his throat, trying again. “Not tickling.”
“This is combat training. A form of it anyway.”
“T-Thihis isn’t trahaining! This is stuhupid!” A reluctant grin had begun to form across his features and Nico quickly covered it with one hand, using the other to prop himself up.
“It’s endurance training,” Percy corrected, changing tactics and scribbling all five fingers over his soles now. Nico choked over a laugh, attempting to cover it up as a cough. “You said you were up for the challenge. Maybe I was wrong though.” As he spoke, he spidered blunt nails all over the ball of his foot, causing Nico to squeak and fall back onto the grass, covering his face with both hands. “What do you think? Can the dark, ferocious ghost king not handle a couple of tickles?”
Nico tugged frantically at his legs, giggles spilling unwarranted from his lips. “Ihihihi cahahahan hahahahandle ahahanything—eep! Nohohoho, stahahahap!”
Percy scratched at the sensitive undersides of his toes, prompting the latter to go into a squirming, babbling fit. “How did I not know you were this ticklish? It’s adorable.”
“Nohohoho ihihit’s nahahahat!” Nico screeched with a violent blush, curling his toes uselessly. “Ahahahahand I’m nahahahat tihihihicklish!”
“No? Then why are you laughing?”
“B-Behehecause… behehehecause… behehehecause shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup!”
“I’ve got to be honest, that’s not a very convincing argument, Nico.”
Percy grinned, and before Nico knew what was happening Percy was sitting on top of his legs, effectively holding him still. With both hands free now, he quickly set to work raking nails up both feet and sending Nico into a new level of hysteria.
“Wahahahait nohohoho, hohohold ohohon ahahaha sehehecond!” Nico burst into a round of squeaky giggles, attempting to both hold himself up and cover his mouth to stop the flow of laughter from escaping, as well as somehow sit up and pry Percy off of him. “Dohohon’t!”
“You know how to make this all stop,” Percy reminded him. “All you have to do is admit that you need to rest and I’ll let you go.”
“Ihihihihihi dohohon’t neheheheed tohoho—gahahahaha, ohohoho gohohods!”
Deciding that it appeared to be his most sensitive spot, Percy had moved his focus back to his toes. Nico squeaked, launching forward to try to pry Percy off of him. Eventually, he settled on merely wrapping his arms around the other for support, burying his face in the back of his t-shirt. “A-Ahahahaha, Pehehehercy!”
“Yes?”
“Ihihihihit tihihihickles!”
“I am aware of that,” Percy agreed, biting his lip to hold back a smile at the adorable nature of his protests. “Your point?”
“Stahahahahap!”
“Are you going to take a break from training?”
“I dohohon’t neheheheed a breheheak!”
“Then no. I wonder what would happen if I did this?” Experimentally, Percy held back his toes with one hand, using the other to scratch the taut, exposed skin. The muffled shriek into his t-shirt said all Percy needed to know on how effective that particular method was.
Nico himself was just as surprised as Percy was at his apparent sensitivity. The only person who had ever tickled him before was Bianca, and after that everyone he knew was too afraid of the consequences to try. Now though, he found himself grateful that no one had, or he never would have been able to save face around any of his peers. Electric shocks seemed to shoot up his legs as Percy trailed devastating fingers over his soles in a manner that was far too ticklish to be fair.
Yet even as he protested and even as his composure trembled, he found that he was almost having fun. There was something nice about being able to freely laugh and squirm under someone else’s touch and not worry about being some tough, dark war hero.
That didn’t mean it didn’t tickle like hell though.
“I hahahahahate yohohou sohohohoho muhuhuch!” Nico giggled, legs jerking in their attempts to free themselves. “Ahahahah, ehehe, stahahahap!”
“Are you going to rest?”
“Thihihihis ihihihis stuhuhuhupid!”
“Are you?”
Percy scratched the spot right under his middle toe that had him howling, and suddenly Nico found he couldn’t take it anymore, even if his pride suffered. “Fihihihine, fihihihihine, I’ll rehehest! Juhuhuhust stahahahap!”
Finally, Percy let up and allowed him to breathe. For a couple of moments Nico stayed like that, fingers gripped tight around his t-shirt as he hugged the other from behind. He knew intellectually that he should let go of him. However, another, larger part of his brain wanted to stay curled up against him, soaking in the other’s body heat.
Eventually, Percy coughed, a faint flush tinging the ends of his ears. “Um, Nico? Are you okay?”
Nico’s eyes snapped open and he shoved Percy off him in a sudden, fluid motion, rolling over into a standing position. He brushed grass off himself, blaming the heat on his face from the tickling. “Uh, I’m going to go take that rest now. Thanks for… thanks for the training.”
“Oh.” Percy blinked at him, startled. “You’re welcome, I guess?”
Nico whirled around, picking up his sword and starting to head back down the hill towards the cabins. He paused after a second, turning back to glare at him. “Oh, and Percy? If you ever tickle me again I’ll decapitate you, got it?”
Percy opened his mouth to respond, but before he could Nico was off again.
Needless to say, Percy did tickle him again and though the other complained vehemently, he found that he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would.
Not that he would ever tell Percy that.
#tickling#tickle fic#fanfiction#pjo#hoo#percy jackson#nico di angelo#percico#fanfic#fic requests#requests
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The Great Upheaval of Percy Weasley: Mirrors
Percy Weasley x OC
Summary: Defense Against the Dark Arts takes a turn for the worst.
Warnings: angst, fluff
MASTERLIST
mirrors -n- eyes that stare back haunt me, but when you join the reflection becomes clear.
***
Professor Lupin quickly became Elle’s favorite teacher. It wasn’t difficult when the rest of her favorites had raging flaws.
Professor Sprout was incessantly bubbly. She never had anything bad to say about anyone, ever. And while many students found that to be a blessing, Elle couldn’t stand it. Nothing said lack of a challenge like a teacher who never gave bad marks. Some days she messed up purpose, begging for a snap, but one never came. She was always full of sweet, encouraging words that never seemed to do Elle’s work justice. Her sole saving grace was that she allowed Elle to wander around the greenhouse after hours if only to understand her garden’s magical properties and the way they could be combined and altered.
Professor McGonagall cared far too much for technique and not enough about creativity. The lion for example, a beautiful display of transfiguration and she was being punished for it. Didn’t matter that no one had ever been able to accomplish that as sixth year, all that mattered was that her technique was off.
And it goes without saying Professor Snape hated her. The only teacher who managed to keep her challenged while still allowing for creativity hated her for the color of her tie. It’s not to say that in the beginning she didn’t try to make him love her work, and she had certainly succeeded, but that didn’t stop him from hating her every being.
Professor Lupin was the wonder of all three. Creative, challenging, and without the obsession of technique, plus he didn’t seem to hate anyone. Her certainly tolerated her and her temper towards her partner.
It didn’t matter that Percy kept her company in empty classrooms, she still wanted nothing more than embarrass in front of everyone who dared to watch. And as she walked into class that beautiful Wednesday morning that was all she had on her mind, beating Percy Weasley into the ground while wide blue eyes asked why.
However, that didn’t seem to be the plan for this particular Wednesday.
Desks were pushed to the sides and a large shaking wardrobe sat in the center.
Clouds were covering her Wednesday morning.
Percy fell into place beside her, a single finger drawing down her arm alerting her to his presence. She would have flinched a month ago, but a month ago she didn’t have the Head Boy touching her whenever he got close enough. There was no romance to it, neither them were stupid enough to fall for that, but it certainly was edging on addiction. When she had first suggested it she had assumed it was simply an attempt to keep her mind busy and to relieve herself of the incessant drive to kiss him again.
Instead of relieving she only wanted more, and from the number of times he had dragged her into the Restricted Section of the library he had once dubbed to pure, she was sure he was suffering from the same craving.
His finger never left her arm until Lupin stepped in from his office, and then he was back to being the perfect child. It was a good thing he did too, because when Lupin announced the creature hiding in that wardrobe, she might have ended anyone who touched her.
The dreaded Boggart.
She considered refusing, storming away and hiding until class was over. But that would be defeat, and she would let Percy Weasley face the thing he feared very most if she wasn’t going to do the same. That would be cowardice and just as her tie stated, she was not a coward.
Lupin reminded that it was just for fun, one last go around before he had it destroyed. There would be no grade, it was just a bit of relaxer, he assured them.
Elle felt anything but relaxed.
She made her way as close to the end as she could manage, head held high. She thought she had gotten past the lesson of Boggarts in her third year without a hitch. Quirrell was too much of a coward to bring live creatures into the classroom so it had been nothing more than bookwork and theory. Now the shaking wardrobe was standing before her, mocking her and Percy, who had somehow ended up behind her, was going to see her fail for the first time ever.
She gnawed her black nails as she drew closer to the front, biting off the carefully grown ends. Five people, then three, and then one. It turned into a ghost, and then as she cast the spell is dropped to the floor like a forgotten bedsheet. She closed her eyes and took a step forward, breathing deeply.
The sheet rose, a body forming beneath it and then with familiar fingers, it pulled the sheet away revealing something that was almost a mirror. She looked the way she should have, the way her mother would have liked it. Classic, a beige two-piece set, nude pumps, no eyeliner. She didn’t have braids, her mother hated those too. Instead it was let loose, long curls, she could imagine a ribbon tying them back She was longer, more fluid this way. And her grey eyes, the ones that always stared back at her in the mirror, were looking at her the same way she looked at Percy Weasley. Her mirror’s wand was out before she could react, and she was flying across the classroom into the desks that had been placed against the wall.
That dreaded fear of the what-could-have-beens. A stronger, more respected witch stared down at her, mocking her as she advanced. Elle yanked her wand out.
“R-riddikulus,” she stuttered, but there was no fun idea to trade out for the fear that kept inching closer. And then, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight Percy, watching with something that fell between terror and apt fascination. She uttered the spell again, determined to beat him, but her mirror kept advancing. “Riddikulus, Riddikulus, Riddikulus,” she screamed until someone stepped in front of her.
She thought it was Lupin at first, until her mirror image turned to Percy’s. The Head Boy stared down his mirror, and with only a slight tremor to his voice raised his wand and uttered the magical words. It dashed into a thousand pieces like she wished it had done for her.
Lupin was speaking but she couldn’t hear a thing. The blood rushing through her ears made her dizzy as Percy turned, and without a hint of arrogance helped her to her feet. She stumbled a little, catching his shoulder as she tipped forwards.
He caught his hand on her waist. It slid beneath her robe and to the small of her back, a small comfort.
“Meet me.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere,” she gasped before pulling away and gathering her things. Lupin tried to talk to her, as did Dinah, but all she wanted to do was run, and that’s what she did. She relished in the sounds of her boots hitting the floor, grateful they weren’t heels.
How could she be so stupid?
She could already hear the rumors they would make about her. The first time she had encountered a boggart she had been eleven. She had whispered the same things to herself that they would whisper to each other. It hadn’t attacked her that first time, it hadn’t felt threatened, not when she terrified at the sight of herself climbing out of an old trunk. She thought she had been going crazy, she had cried to Madam Pomfrey for what seemed like hours, unable to articulate the sight. Eventually everything was explained, and she was excused to go to her room, but she had vowed to beat it, whatever it meant, the next she encountered a boggart it was going to be different.
It clearly wasn’t.
She ran a hand over a braid and charged into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, throwing her book bag against the wall, and staring into the mirror. That was who she wanted to see, this was her, not that preppy priss who managed to tower over her with a single raised eyebrow.
Her grey eyes were still lined with black liner and her hair was still tied in two long braids. That mirage was just that, an illusion that existed only within her mind. She punched the mirror, watching as it shattered upon impact. Carelessly, she watched her knuckles bleed before whirling around at the sound of a girlish laugh. Myrtle was peering over a stall, resting her head on her folded arms. Couldn’t she leave someone to angst in peace?
“Fuck off.”
“It’s my bathroom,” she reminded indignantly.
“Fine, I’ll leave.” She huffed and gathered the books that had spilled across the floor during her tantrum. Blood soaked onto the pages and she swore violently. Could this day really get any fucking worse? She slammed open the door again, ignoring the whispers of the girls who had watched her enter the bathroom in the first place.
“I’d be scared if I looked like that too,” one whispered and Elle rolled her eyes. Fucking fourth years. She allowed her gaze to meet the girl who had spoke and pulled out her wand.
“Want to say that to my fucking face?” The fourth year squeaked as she advanced. Elle was convinced she would have ruined those gossiping pricks entire week had Percy not walked around the corner looking for her.
“Elle!” She considered ignoring him but decided snogging in some dark corner would be better for her mood than removing femurs from insolent children. She sent them one last fiery glare before stalking towards Weasley.
If he wanted anything other than snog her, she was going to explode.
She followed him silently, itching to get her hands on that cocky ginger. The moment they turned the corner into an empty corridor, she pounced. He pulled her into a broom cupboard, locking it behind them as she attacked him with lustful ferocity. She ripped open his shirt, black nails raking along pale skin.
“Elle, you’re bleeding,” he muttered breathlessly.
“Fuck, sorry,” she swore. Truth be told, she had forgotten the moment he had stepped into view. She pulled out her wand to heal the cuts, but he had already beat her to it. With soft movements the cuts closed, and the stains disappeared until there was no evidence of the injury. She sucked in a deep breath as he watched her, already itching to kiss him again.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked as she grabbed him.
“No,” she mumbled against his lips, but he pushed her away, hands pressing against her shoulders. “Percy, I said I don’t want to talk about it.” She leaped forward again, but he shoved her against the wall. A mop or two clattered to the ground at the impact and she swallowed.
“Sorry,” he muttered, loosening his grip. She wished he hadn’t apologized. “It’s just, you’re not the only one who saw yourself today.” Elle blinked as she thought back to the moments when he had stepped in front of her. He had seemed without fear then, but now he was shifting nervously, unable to meet her eyes. She reached out and took his face more tenderly than she had anticipated. Blue met grey and her stomach rolled uncomfortably.
“Thank you,” she muttered before kissing him. That was uncharacteristically tender too. When she pulled away, he was smiling softly. “And I’m sorry I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Elle, I’m not saying you have to. I just want you to know you’re not the only one who had to face yourself today.” Behind sharp eyes, Elle could feel herself welling up. From the first time she had seen herself staring back she had felt like an enigma that couldn’t be solved. She had been a solitary being, but now Percy, who couldn’t be more different was the same. Her stomach turned again, and she nodded, quickly kissing him before he noticed the tears building in her eyes.
This time he didn’t try to push her away but pulled her closer. She dug her fingers through his hair and didn’t hesitate to respond as he wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing her up against the wall. Fingers slipped beneath her skirt, denting soft skin with hunger.
“Fuck,” she growled as he wrapped a braid around his fist, tugging it until her neck was exposed to soft lips and harsh teeth. She grabbed his shoulders, holding on tightly as he almost hesitantly nipped at her pulse. He ran his mouth up her neck and along her jaw, nipping at her ear until she was moaning his name. He found her lips again to quiet her soft whispers, catching the taste of his name leaving her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lowered her legs, pulling him tighter against her lips.
“Good talk,” he muttered when they pulled away for air and she laughed.
“Excellent talk, best one we’ve had yet.”
“Shall we talk some more?”
“McGonagall’s going to hang us.”
“I’ve already explained it to her. You’ve ran off and I’ve gone to check on you, it’s terribly tragic really,” he whispered, and she grinned before pressing herself against him once more.
“I knew I was snogging a genius.” And then they proceeded to talk much, much more.
Taglist: @andromedasstarship @danadeacon
#percy weasley#percy weasley fanfic#percy weasley imagine#percy weasley fanfiction#percy weasley imagines#percy weasley smut#percy weasley angst#percy weasley fluff#percy weasley x reader#percy weasley x reader smut#percy weasley x reader fluff#Percy Weasley x reader imagine#percy weasley x reader angst#percy weasley x reader fanfic#percy weasley x reader fanfiction#Percy Weasley x OC#percy weasley x oc angst#percy weasley x oc smut#percy weasley x oc fluff#percy weasley x oc fanfic#percy weasley x oc fanfiction
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Empires on the Horizon XVI
Jason is a CEO: Part XVI
okay wow it has been a hooottt minute since i’ve updated a multi-chap fic and an even hotter minute since i’ve updated this one. so here’s a recap:
jase and zoe broke up, because she is being forced by her father to marry someone else (who that may be is yet to be revealed). jason has finally had enough and at the insistence of his friends he packs up on a holiday to Panarea (in italy) where he is delightedly shocked to discover Percy Jackson is currently working, and oh no.....would you look at that......the hotel messed up their reservations and now they have to share the same room, and the same bed. lmao they’re dorks.
here’s how the last chapter ended:
“Let’s just stay together? We’re friends. We know each other, we trust each other, and it’ll be less hassle than trying to find a room for either of us.”
“But there’s only one bed?” His brain was short-circuiting.
It shut down altogether when the man before him smirked. “Well i can keep my hands to myself, if you promise to.”
“I-” What is stopping him from saying yes? Why should he say no?
“It’s totally okay if you don’t want to.” Percy’s expression was so gentle, and it turned every weathered rock in Jason to gemstone.
“Yes.” He said firmly. “Let’s share the room.”
It was only when they got back to the hotel did Jason realise they were still holding hands. He wondered if they’d find each other like that in their dreams too. They did.
masterlist; my links
Jason awoke to an arm slung over his waist and soft breaths fanning the bare skin of his back. Bright sunlight streamed through the windows, bringing with it the heat that was sure to get unbearable. He thought he’d feel uncomfortable with someone touching him in weather like this but Percy seemed to be cool, and gods did he look cute with his messy black curls, and brown skin that absorbed rays of light and turned it into magic.
They had promised each other that they’d keep to their sides of the bed and refrain from mauling one another in the night, but it seemed like they had gravitated together anyhow. And Percy was certainly a cuddler.
A knock sounded and with groaning realisation he saw the clock on the wall read ten am. They were out later than either of them had realised.
“Jackson,” He nudged the man gently, “I think you need to get up.”
A mumbled response sunk into his skin as soft lips brush against his back. Jason went completely still, the sensation running along his nerves like hot wires.
“You okay?” Another mumble filtered through his delirium.
“I’m fine,” He managed to choke out, “I think we need to get up though. Room service is already here.”
That sparked movement. Suddenly green eyes were wide open, and cheeks, streaked with the creases of the pillow, were red with panic. “What is the time?”
“It’s ten am,” He pointed to the clock.
“Fuck!” Percy practically leaped out of bed and slammed his shoulder into the door frame as he skidded into the bathroom.
Jason heard the shower go on, and an electric toothbrush whirr to life, and then he heard a multitude of curse words, a loud bang and some groans of pain.
“Er,” He should go in there and make sure his friend was still alive. “Jackson?” He stepped into the bathroom and was not at all prepared for the sight that greeted him.
There, tangled in his pants, toothpaste stains on his face, and the shower soaking the bathroom floor was Dr. Percy Jackson.
“Do you need help?”
“This is not how this morning was supposed to go,” The dark-haired man garbled, looking hopelessly at the mess he had created.
Jason hid a smile as he bent down to help tug Percy’s pants off him, “And how was the morning supposed to go.”
Green eyes clashed with his, the toothbrush still whirring in his mouth. “I was supposed to wake up early and order a buffet for breakfast and then as we stuffed ourselves-” he cut off, choking on the toothpaste.
Jason couldn’t hide his amusement, and burst out laughing at Percy’s subsequent glare. Standing up and tossing the pants in the wash basket, he offered his hand to his friend, who took it gratefully before heading to the sink to finish brushing his teeth.
“What were we going to do while we ate?” He asked, leaning against the basin, one leg crossed over the other.
“I was going to feed you maple-covered waffles and answer some emails, and you were going to read that book I know you brought.”
“Are we an old married couple in this scenario?” He quirked a brow, lips twitching.
Percy frowned, stripping off his underwear and stepping into the heat of the shower. “I’m just trying to start our future early.”
Jason watched those glorious back muscles ripple, as water streaked down, but he refused to follow its path, not daring to go lower than the small dip of that spine. He didn’t even know why he was still in the bathroom, why he was being such a creeper, but his feet were superglued to the floor. He couldn’t move even if a crowbar tried to pry him away.
“Are you not agreeing with my vision?” A muffled voice drifted around him.
He attempted to come back to reality but it was proving near impossible. “Uh no-” He stuttered, “I think it’s a solid plan.” His eyes traced the sharp angles of that jaw, and the strong-bridged nose, and black hair matted to beautiful brown skin. He was sure he was dreaming. There could be no other explanation for the surrealness of the moment.
“Jase?” Percy touched his arm gently, skin hot from the shower. “You okay?”
He startled into the world so fast he felt dizzy. Where on earth had he gone? To another dimension it seemed. “Oh gods i’m so sorry,” He groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “I just watched you shower like a complete pervert.”
His friend smirked, and then he was laughing. “Who says i didn’t enjoy it?”
The blush that raced across his skin was enough to dull rubies. He didn’t know where to look, or how to breathe, or what he was made of. He was simply an untied balloon barreling towards the nearest thorn bush. “You,” He managed to choke, “Are going to be the death of me doctor.”
“Good,” He heard the smirk like violins, “Maybe then I won't feel like I'm falling straight to the bottom of the ocean all by myself.”
Jason peeked through his fingers, watching as Percy finished up and flitted around the room, trying to still the heart that threatened to beat out his rib cage and into a drum set. It was an ache in his chest, how much he felt for this man. How much he wanted him.
“So i’m going to be in and out for the next few days but i’m going to work my butt off so i can have Thursday and Friday off. I’m sorry for being a terrible roommate but i don’t think i’ll make meals until then.” He could see the regret in the doctor’s eyes, turning that vibrant green a shade like dying leaves.
“No,” He shook his head, “Seriously it’s not a problem. You do what you have to.” He couldn’t believe his friend felt bad for leaving him, when they hadn’t even known they’d be here together. It said enough about Percy's character that Jason was trying very hard not to bundle the man up in blankets and kiss his cheeks until the guilt of the past stopped carving valleys between his brows. Instead he hugged him, accidentally letting his lips brush against Percy's neck, just above his collar as he pulled away. Accidentally. The squeeze at his waist let him know his accident was well received.
“Goodbye Jackson.” He smiled as he watched the doctor race down the hall. A ringed wave was the response before he disappeared around the corner.
Jason closed the door, leaning against it with an expression made from coffee foam and whipped cream. He couldn't imagine a morning as peaceful as that one, not in days, months, years? With a satisfied sigh he flopped back into bed, inhaling the ocean scent of Percy that lingered across the sheets like cool waters on a summer evening. The plan for the day was that there was no plan. Thalia had chosen well by booking this little place. He wouldn’t be distracted by touristy things ergo he couldn’t possibly do anything else but relax. So he snuggled into the pillows and stared at the ceiling and fell half asleep and listened to the wind and felt the heat creep across his skin and he just let himself be.
His thoughts were as wild as the tides and sometimes they spilled like ocean water across his cheeks. But then he’d drift off to a dream and wake up to the sound of people laughing and cars sputtering and footsteps stomping past his door and all of a sudden nothing felt too far away.
He was sad. He was sad enough to wonder if sadness was all he knew. His ex boyfriend, who he had loved like stars loved darkness, had broken down his dream and rebuilt it as a nightmare. He managed to wake up. His girlfriend, who he could have loved given time, had tied all the fraying parts of his heart to the wheel of a car and pressed accelerate. He managed to cut himself free. His girlfriend, who he had loved outright and bold, had danced him to the edge of a cliff and left him with one foot already going over. Had he managed to catch himself before reaching the bottom?
It was a question that kept him occupied through the day. Through the breakfast he ate slowly. Through the sleep he found restlessly when his mind wouldn’t focus on the book he’d brought. Through the very late lunch he gobbled down like his stomach would start a rebellion if it didn’t get it’s due. Through the golden sunset he sat at the window and watched.
But it was finally when he sunk to the floor of the shower, letting the water hit his back like welcome rain, that he had an answer; and with it the question of “What came next?” That answer, he knew, would come later. Clear and bright and ready to be grabbed with teeth and hands and love.
So he finished his shower, and changed into loose cotton pants and a shirt that he didn’t bother to button. A walk on the beach didn’t require formality.
The sand was soft on his feet, different to the way New York beaches felt. And the ocean was a richer blue, as if he were being introduced to colour for the first time and this was how water was supposed to look. He supposed places like this weren’t called paradise on earth for nothing. The last dregs of sunlight skittered across the water, as if playing with it. His fingers itched to paint the scene but with nothing but the sand at his fingertips he simply took in the view, and let his mind form the painting he couldn’t.
The air was cooler here, not as sticky, but that didn’t mean the heat wasn’t ever present, scorching the sand like coal hearths. His feet would be blistered if it weren’t so late into the evening. Any earlier and he may have been hopping around like a scared crab. The image was enough to make him giggle to himself. It’s a sound he misses, and one he loved enough to leave him smiling.
“Care to share, comedian?” A smooth voice called from behind him.
He turned around, whipped faster than the wind, to see Percy walking towards him, a grin on his handsome face.
“I was picturing myself as a scared crab.”
Dark eyebrows raised in confusion, before rich laughter burst into the air. Jason swore it turned the night into magic. “Maybe I should have left you in peace.” The doctor shook his head.
“Who says you’re disrupting it?” He tilted his head, before starting on his walk once more.
He didn’t see the look that crossed his friend’s face, like comfort turned to being.
“What did you do today?”
“Self reflection,” He said into the air, into the world, into himself. “How about you?”
“Oh you know, a little lab work here, a little analysis there.” Percy shrugged.
“Tell me more,” He prompted.
The look of surprise on his friend’s face made him want to throttle anyone who’s ever stopped this man from talking.
“You sure?” It was hesitant, it was heartbreaking.
“I can’t promise to understand everything so I may have questions but if you’re willing to indulge me I want to hear all about it.”
With a look that spoke of worlds beyond their comprehension Percy launched into a detailed play-by-play of his day. He answered every question with patience and sparkling eyes, and there were many questions. By the time they got back to their hotel the crescent moon was their only source of light in the inky blackness of the sky and his stomach was growling enough that he knew he couldn’t afford to snack for supper.
“Want to go to the restaurant for dinner?” He tilted his head to the opposite side of the lobby where grand doors opened and closed periodically.
“I uh,” His friend winced, “I have some work today so i’m going to head to the room.”
“Okay,” He shrugged smiling, “I’ll meet you up there later.”
“Uh yea,” Percy’s face held an expression he didn’t quite know how to interpret. “See you then.”
“Want me to bring something up for you?”
“No, no, don’t worry about me.” Black curls bounced as he shook his head.
They parted ways, Jason only slightly confused by the weird turn his friend’s mood took, and decided he’d bring back a chocolate brownie if nothing else.
As he sat down at a table, observing the grand balustrades and curtained windows he felt suddenly alone. It wasn’t a feeling he let himself be consumed by but just the fact that it was there had him reaching for his phone. With a few taps he was calling Leo, knowing it’d be early morning for them.
“Hello,” A cheery voice crackled through his earphone. It was enough to settle all the worried nerves hidden between his ribcage.
Their conversation was bright and energetic, Leo being a morning person; he even got a few grunts out of Annabeth, who was decidedly not. Everything was okay with his company and more importantly his friends were fine.
“I found a person we know here,” He mumbled, trying to keep his voice and excitement quiet.
“Who?” Leo was practically vibrating. Even Annabeth looked at the camera with blurry eyed curiosity.
“Uh Percy.” He scratched the back of his neck, shyness crawling across his skin.
“Oh,” His friend’s eyes widened. “What is he doing there?”
“Work,” This was fine. This was safe. Nobody was jumping to any conclusions.
“Are you sure you didn’t run away to get married?”
And there went all his hope of having reasonable friends. “No!” He hissed. “And besides I didn't run away, you guys forced me to go.”
“Well it’s done you good. I can finally see some colour in those pasty cheeks.” Brown eyes sparkled with mischief.
Before Jason could respond another call was interrupting. “Zoe Nightshade” flashed across the screen.
“Uh Leo,” He frowned at his phone. “I’ll call you back.”
“Everything okay?” He heard the worry like tv static.
“I hope so.” The furrow between his brows didn’t disappear.
And then he hung up on his best friend and answered the other call.
“Oh Jason,” Relief flooded in his ear like water in a drought. “Thank you for answering.” The smooth voice of his ex-girlfriend reached him.
“Zoe,” His nerves were bow-string taught. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling me?”
“I need your help.” She answered. She sounded desperate. “I can’t marry Octavian.”
Jason Grace nearly falls off the cliff.
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@leyontheway
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@larrikin-is-a-himbo
#empires on the horizon#part 16#pjjg fanfic#pjjg series#jercy#jercy fanfic#jason grace#percy jackson#grace#percy#jackson#jason#i loved searching for moodboard images for this one#i got to stare at muscles and hands for hooouurrrssss
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light em up
ao3
basically the fireworks date mentioned in ‘percy jackson and the bronze dragon’
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“you know,” annabeth said as percy leaned his weight on her. she was the only thing supporting him as they trudged along the forest. percy’s foot was still in pain after acid had soaked through his shoe. “it wasn’t the bravest thing i’ve ever seen.”
percy blinked at her. “what do you mean?”
annabeth smiled softly, not looking at him. “you stood up to the dragon so beckendorf could jump on him. that was brave.”
“or stupid.”
she scoffed quietly. “percy, you’re a brave guy. take the compliment.”
percy turned his head and they locked eyes. their faces were inches apart and it made percy’s heart jump right out of his chest. he blinked a few times, then looked away with flushed cheeks. his eyes landed on the pair of demigods up ahead.
“so…” he said, “silena and charlie are going to the fireworks together.”
“mhm,” she hummed.
percy swallowed. “well, i was thinking…” he started, but his voice trailed off as he lost what little confidence he had. he didn’t know why it was so hard but gods, it was.
“yeah?” annabeth prompted quietly. of course, percy should’ve guessed that she knew what he was going to say. she could practically read him like an open book.
“would you maybe want to… go with me?” he asked slowly, looking over at her. a smile grew on her face.
“i thought you’d never ask, seaweed brain,” she replied, locking eyes with him again. percy smiled.
“okay,” he muttered, “cool. great. that’s… yeah.” he broke eye contact as he stuttered and annabeth laughed softly, leaning into him slightly.
just then, three athena campers jumped out of the bushes with swords drawn. they all smiled widely when they saw annabeth and silena.
“annabeth, good job! let’s get them to jail,” one of her siblings said.
percy blinked. “the game isn’t over?”
he laughed. “not yet, but it won’t last much longer.” then he looked at annabeth. “you need us to take them?” he asked.
percy figured annabeth would let him and beckendorf walk back to the border but instead, she pulled away from percy and took out her dagger. she smiled and pointed her blade at him. he shouldn't have found that as attractive as he did.
“nah. silena and i got this. come on prisoners,” she said.
read the rest on ao3 !
#percabeth#percy jackson#annabeth chase#pjo#hoo#heroes of olympus#fic#am i missing any tags wtf#percy jackson and the olympians#gray writes
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A fluffy prompt you say? How about Annabeth being out of shape and trying to get the hang of it at the pool and embarrassing herself in front of lifeguard Percy? 🤔
ask and ye shall receive, Mel :)
It’s the coldest day in June and Percy is sitting in his lifeguard chair in a classic bright red lifeguard sweatshirt with a towel across his lap watching a completely empty pool. This happens every once in a while, on particularly cloudy or rainy days, when the weather isn’t bad enough for the pool to close, but not nice enough for people to want to swim.
He’s the only lifeguard on duty (for obvious reasons) and in his struggle to stay awake, he sings along to the never ending playlist of summer hits playing on the speakers.
“I’m gonna soak up the suuuunnnn,” he’s singing when he hears the sound of flip flops on the concrete. He assumes it’s another staff member, so he keeps singing. “Gonna tell everyone to lighten uuuup.”
“Nice voice!” someone hollers at him.
Percy jumps in his seat and lifts up his sunglasses. Across the pool standing in a bright red one piece is Annabeth Chase. Her hands hover by her mouth before she gives him a wave. He’s about to tell her that the water's freezing and she should come back another day, but she hops into the 5 foot deep lane section of the pool without hesitating.
Percy’s heart jumps a little and he sits up straighter in his seat. It’s not that he thinks Annabeth is going to drown, but this does mean that he has to pay attention. He takes his life guarding duties very seriously, especially when it comes to his best friend and longtime crush.
Annabeth had said herself that she was out of practice when it came to swimming. She’d taken a few lessons as a kid, but now (the summer after her junior year of high school) she’s pretty rusty.
Percy watches her hug herself in the water before pushing off the floor and doggy paddling down the lane of the pool. He has to resist the urge to get in the water with her and give her a few pointers. He knows how well that would go. It was one thing when he taught her how to skateboard, but when he’d offered to give her a few swimming lessons, she’d rolled her eyes and said, “I know how to swim.”
And now that he’s watching her and remembering that conversation, he can’t help but think, well, kind of. He wonders what possessed her to choose this particular day to do a few laps. She knew he would be there because he’s there almost every day (he needs the money), so she’s not avoiding him like he thought she would.
Percy’s eyes scan the pool automatically. It’s still empty besides her clumsy and stuttered splashing. Oh that’s it, he thinks. The pool’s empty, which means no one else from their grade will see her. It’s a matter of pride after all.
She stops in the middle of the lane and stands with her hands on her hips, clearly catching her breath.
Percy toots on his whistle once and her eyes snap to his. “You have to keep moving if you’re going to be in the lanes,” he teases.
She flips him off and pushes off the floor again, this time attempting a backstroke. Her arms move in the correct circling motions, but her hips aren’t high enough and she isn’t letting her head tip back enough to keep her momentum.
She keeps struggling for ten more minutes while he watches her. He feels a little weird staring, but technically it’s his job, so it’s totally different from all the other times he’s found his eyes lingering on her face or hair or silhouette. And the insistent urge to get in the water to help her, even though it’s freezing, is totally coming from his position as a lifeguard and not the fact that he’s in love with her and wants to help her with everything he can.
A particularly chilly breeze rushes through his sweatshirt. It’s enough to make him shiver, so he can imagine that Annabeth is going to be a popsicle as soon as she gets out of the water. He checks his watch and sees that the pool is supposed to close for the day in half an hour. Surely, no one will notice if he wraps up a little early.
He leaves his rescue buoy on its rack next to the guard chair, grabs Annabeth’s towel off her lounger, and waits for her at the end of the lane.
“Your lips are blue,” he says.
She looks up at him with a defiant look on her face and her arms crossed, but it’s ruined when her teeth start chattering.
“I still have half an hour before the pool closes. It says so on the sign,” she says.
“I think I’ll lose my lifeguard license if I let a swimmer get hypothermia,” he says, crouching down, so he’s not standing so far above her. “And I also know a certain someone who would be very upset if you got sick and had to miss our trip to Montauk.”
She gives in and pushes herself out of the pool. Instead of just handing her the towel, he holds it open for her and wraps it around her. She pulls the towel tighter and takes a step closer to Percy.
“Why is it so cold?” she groans. “It’s summer, isn’t it?”
Percy just chuckles and says, “You do realize the pool is open on hot days too?”
“Oh, shut up,” she responds, huddling even closer to him. He wants to pull her against his chest, but he stops himself.
“You wanna go sit in the office?” he asks. It’s times like this that he’s thankful that the community pool doesn’t have much supervision.
She’s already slipping on her flip flops and grabbing her bag before he finishes the sentence.
A minute later she’s finishing drying off in the warmth of the office while Percy locks things up. When he opens the door, her towel is wrapped around her head and her hands are running up and down her arms.
“You want my hoodie?” he blurts out.
Her eyebrows flick up, but she nods. Percy pulls it over his own head, not thinking about how he’s not wearing a shirt under it. Luckily for him, there’s extra merch for all the lifeguards in the office closet. He hands it over to her then quickly ducks through the closet door. Of course, she’s seen him shirtless plenty of times, but it feels different than when they’re with their friends outside.
When he comes back from the closet, she’s sitting in a chair with her knees pulled into her chest and her legs completely covered by the sweatshirt. Percy has to stop himself from telling her how cute she is.
“When’s your next day off?” she asks him.
“The day we leave for Montauk.”
“Do you think you could squeeze in some time for a couple lessons with me?” she says shyly. “I don’t want you to be thinking about me the whole time we’re at the ocean. It’s kind of hard to have fun if you’re worried about your friend drowning the whole time.”
“A few swimming lessons aren’t going to stop me from thinking about you, Annabeth, but yes,” he smiles. “And don’t stress. I am a professional and I know CPR.”
“Geez Percy, if you wanted to kiss me then just say so.”
“Um.”
Annabeth’s face flushes bright red, but she doesn’t take it back.
A beat passes between them.
“I should head out,” she says, standing up.
“Do you mean that?” he asks before she can leave. “Are you teasing me or did you mean that?”
She stands in front of him but avoids his gaze. “Both?”
“You never make things easy for me,” he groans.
She looks up at him then, exasperated. “Okay, fine. I meant it, Percy.”
Before he can lose his nerve, he responds, “I want to kiss you, like real kiss you, not give you CPR.”
Her face breaks out into a smile and she steps closer to him. “It’s about time.”
She leans up onto her toes and pulls his face down to hers with her hand on the side of his face. Her fingertips are cold, but he’s burning up as their lips meet in the softest kiss. She smells like chlorine and they’re both so shy and the pool office isn’t the most romantic place in the world, but to Percy it’s perfect because he’s with her.
She pulls him closer and buries her face in his neck. Percy’s glad she can’t see his outright giddy expression, but he has to stop himself from flinching away from the coldness of her nose on his skin.
“You’re still freezing,” he says.
He feels her nod. “So warm me up.”
She folds her arms in between them and he runs his hands up and down her back. He can’t help but think about how lucky he is. “You can wear my hoodie home,” he says pulling the hood over her damp curls.
He never gets it back.
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Hello! Patrochilles' love child Precy anon here. Again. Sorry to bombard you with these, but your headcanons are so good I can't seem to get enough of them... I'm practicly in love with them. So. My question now is how do you think Percy would find out that Sally is his birth mother and what would be Patrochilles' reaction? Again, no pressure, only write it if you really want to. Thank you for everything you wrote so far. Lots of love!
you have my heart & ask whatever my love and you shall RECEIVE! don’t apologize BC I LOVE MAKING THESE!!! <3 and absolutely i will :’) thank you again & lots of love to you!
—
- so this has been ruminating in perseus’ mind when he finally got claimed and for some reason his brain instantly went there but was interrupted by chiron telling patrochilles & him to go to his cabin, and then after he ended up getting bombarded with all the training/learning/teaching of camp life + shouldering the prophecy & also just the mundaneness of school that he honestly didn’t think about it for a good while
- however, patroclus himself was thinking about it so much - he had talks with achilles and mentioned that sally not only made a beautiful book of prose about the demigods & gods (her book mainly centering about a young poseidon), he recounted that she gave them a bust of poseidon when she went to their apartment & gave perseus a trident necklace - he asked achilles what he thought of this & achilles took a while to ruminate bc he genuinely wanted to think about it, and he said it could be a possibility that somehow the fates all allowed their lives to intertwine like this
- it’s during a summer’s day in june where patrochilles & perseus are soaking up the sun near the strawberry fields at camp & for some reason perseus has this weird feeling in his stomach and he looks over to patrochilles and see’s pat in achilles’ lap while pat feeds him strawberries and he can’t help but smile & his dads notice and achilles playfully throws a strawberry at perseus that he catches in his mouth and giggles
- & then he hears his name being called in the distance and they all saunter over towards the front of camp and they all see someone they didn’t expect
- it’s miss sally jackson and she has a bashful smile on her beautiful face, and everything perseus thought that first day comes back flooding into his brain and sally comes to him while giving a kind wave to patrochilles and holds percy’s hand and tells him what he’s already suspected and he for some reason is in a weird limbo state of shock & relief & also he sort of felt this coming and he just feels a weight leave his shoulders and sally hugs him so hard and he just softly says “hi mom” and she has to hold in her tears bc she hasn’t heard her baby boy say that in gods knows how long
- and patrochilles are looking on with such... they’re so unbelievably happy for percy that he finally found out that sally is his legit mother, that poseidon is his biological father, and all the pieces have come together, but there’s a small part of their hearts that is a little sad & scared because they absolutely would honor percy wanting to live with his mother, but god they just love that boy so much
- listen their love is just SO palpable and sally notices it now just as much as she noticed it back then :’) she comes to patrochilles and holds both of their hands and gives them kisses on the cheeks and hugs them both, softly thanking them from the bottom of her heart for taking care of her baby boy and that they are the best adoptive parents, nay, the best parents PERIOD that she could have asked to take care of her son :’) pat & achilles blush and are so enamored and thank her kindly
- afterwards percy just bombards her with questions after telling everyone to come with him to his cabin and he asks her why didn’t she say anything? why didn’t she tell him that day she came? why did she put him up for adoption?
- sally answers all his questions with honesty, directness, and sincerity. she frankly didn’t know that he would be there & it was the doing of the fates and her own gut instinct that she should go, and she saw the familial bond between all of them and knew that percy was in good hands, and in terms for his last question. sally could not risk her baby boy to be hurt by any divine being, she needed him to be safe & she could not guarantee his safety if she was kept with him & she promised herself that he was most important in her life and it was so heartbreaking to let him go - yet she had a strong pull in her heart that he would be alright and safe :’) she did name her boy perseus after all
- she takes another look at patrochilles and they can feel her gratitude in waves and achilles & pat say that they are grateful that he was raised by such a caring, kind mother & how rare that was and how thankful they were that perseus came into their life, and how thankful they are that sally is in their life now too :’)
- and sally asks a question that was seemingly already in the air - and she surprises patrochilles by asking it frankly! she asks if she can sometimes come by & visit and pat is stunned bc he thought that she would just want to whisk percy away? and she laughs saying that she is a busy woman and percy is getting older, she wants him to have that autonomy and make his own choices and she knows how long he’s stayed w patrochilles and they are absolutely his parents! and pat is stuttering saying how she is absolutely welcome anytime and that he’d give them a copy of their key and achilles just winks at her saying that their door is always open :’)
- percy is so just filled w a sense of relief and just knowing that he has such a loving family around him? that care so deeply and would do anything and everything to protect him? he hopes that they know that he would do the same for them and that he loves them unconditionally <3
hope you enjoy my friend!
#patrochilles!lovechild anon#patrochilles!lovechild#percy jackson#the song of achilles#percy jackson headcanons#tsoa#patrochilles#they are my lifelines i love them sm#asks#the song of achilles headcanons#hehe so many tags jdjddjdk THANK YOU AGAIN I LOVE YOU#hope you enjoy this one!#modern!patrochilles
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I saw you were doing requests so maybe...G1 Perceptor/Bumblebee/Wheeljack where Bee loves being used as a interface toy between the two? Is that ok?
Bumblebee wasn't sure why he agreed to let Wheeljack and Perceptor try their latest invention on him, but they assured him it was perfectly safe, and, well, he wouldn't exactly say he minded the thought of having the two handsome scientists fussing over his frame. Still, he assured himself that this was strictly business. He was just helping two of the best scientists on Cybertron with some new tool to beat on the Decepti-duds with. Nothing to burn out his processors over.
He steeled his struts and hopped by the lab to meet up with them, feeling his plates warm up slightly as he spotted the two mechs talking animatedly in the back of the room.
"Hey, fellas." He greeted with a wave as they spotted him. "You asked for a guinea pig?"
"Bumblebee!" Perceptor called. "I'm glad you're here. Why don't you take a seat here by my desk and we'll get started?"
The yellow bug obliged, sitting on the chair as Perceptor stood in front of him and set about examining his frame. He had to force his fans to stay offline as Wheeljack began to examine his sensitive horns with his servos.
They were just being thorough, he told himself. Perceptor and Wheeljack— well, Perceptor, at any rate— were all about measured precision and practiced action. Which is exactly why Percy's next question caught him so off guard.
"Tell me, Bumblebee, how long ago did you last self-service?" Perceptor asked suddenly, tracing one fine-tuned hand down the center of Bee's chest. "No need to be shy. Simply answer as accurately as you can."
"A-about a week ago, Percy. Why?"
"Excellent! It will be more comfortable for you with your array systems if you have not overloaded very recently." He said, letting his servos tap over Bumblebee's panel. "Wheeljack and I have developed a frame-compatible program that will enable mechs to carry and transfer significant amounts of electrical charge between interconnected frames for extended periods of time. Wheeljack?"
"In other words," Wheeljack happily began to explain, even as he began to rub at Bee's horns a little more rhythmically. "You know how we Cybertronians produce a lotta charge when we interface? Well, we're trying to find a way to use that charge. Me an' Percy are gonna initiate the program and see just how much interfacing charge we can build up in you. It should optimize our systems for at least a month, and yours for two!" He finished excitedly.
Bumblebee whimpered as he could already feel a building charge crackle between Perceptor's body and his own. His panel opened of its own accord, allowing Perceptor's servos to begin stretching his valve, grazing his nodes with anatomical precision as ring after ring of calipers began to loosen for the microscope's perfectly accurate fingers.
Wheeljack then lifted him out of the chair and set him on Perceptor's desk, quick to let the sniper-shot scientist move back against the beetle.
"I hope you don't mind if we go ahead and get started, do you, Bumblebee?" Perceptor asked a little breathlessly, "The protocols are quite insistent, and I would like to measure the process as time accurately as possible."
The yellow bug whimpered as Wheeljack leaned down to pull one of his horns into his mouth, gently closing his denta on the sensitive appendage as Bumblebee's overload took him by surprise.
"I think that's a yes, Percy, so let's not bully our little Buzzy Bee too much, huh?"
Perceptor slid his spike right inside the little bug's fluttering valve, only barely letting his calipers readjust before he began to thrust in earnest.
"Make sire you're recording this, Wheeljack," Perceptor mumbled as his voice wavered in staticky pleasure. Bumblebee's own engine stuttered as he could feel the mess of his own transfluid dripping out of his valve and down his thighs and onto the desk beneath him. Perceptor didn't last long his first round, only making a soft sound as his hips stilled inside Bumblebee and another gush of transfluid filled his valve before pulling his still-stiff spike out.
"I believe the next round is yours, Wheeljack." The mech panted, "Don't leave our little Bee waiting."
"Don't worry, Bumblebee," Wheeljack assured the minibot as he lined up his spike before thrusting inside Bee's soaked, stretched valve and letting his servos tease against the little yellow node just above where their hips met. "We've got all night. And maybe a little bit of tomorrow, too."
Perceptor checked to make sure his equipment was monitoring their charge before he moved behind the desk and pulled Bumblebee down to lay across it's surface as Wheeljack's thrusts rocked him across it.
"May I?" the red scientist asked expectantly, letting his hand gently rest on Bumblebee's exposed throat before the minibot allowed him to slide his into his mouth.
They were right about the resulting power boost, at least. The two scientists made sure to share their charge with him whenever they got the chance.
#valveplug#wheeljack#bumblebee#perceptor#perceptor/bumblebee/wheeljack#g1#sharing is caring#hope you like it anon!#dub con#maybe?#he's definitely into it though
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Slow Growth (C11)
Chapter 10
Their next trip from Zephrah to Whitestone had much more pomp and circumstance since Vex’s home had been completed a week before. She was in the process of decorating as well as monitoring the construction of a workshop for Percy in her home. Smaller, but functional for Tary to use as well. The two of them had a master bedroom with a bath off the side which Keyleth made use of while the siblings caught up and Vex brought him along on a scouting venture with her Grey Hunt.
She spent some time with Percy and they talked more shop about how they would use these warning systems. The orbs he was in the process of crafting to improve communications and how they would market such items to places like Emon and Vasselhiem. Keyleth thought she might be able to do it. She had been getting better at speaking in an official capacity in short bursts when she needed to. After that though she might as well not even function in normal company but she and Percy enjoyed their time until evening. Vax still hadn’t returned and though she wasn’t worried, per say, she was concerned at the late hour and wondered if maybe the two of them went off drinking again without letting her know.
The bath had warm water and was of a modest size. Certainly big enough for two grown people to relax in it with room to spare and she soaked in the space for as long as she thought she should after dinner. From the offshoot room to hers she didn’t bother wearing a towel and instead warmed her skin with a flame to dry. The dressers revealed clothing Keyleth would not normally choose for bed. Things of lace and frills with very little comfort in mind. Mostly in black. Things she might wear if she were trying to impress Vax. She did slip one that looked the most functional on and surprisingly it fit her perfectly but it was best not to dwell on exactly why Vex had stocked the room with these. Keyleth slipped the underwear off and put it back while she searched for a different pair. At the very bottom she found something more akin to what she might wear normally and slipped out a night gown she thought looked nice. With both items in hand she turned and found Vax at the door, dirty and tired looking but his attention seemed rapt on her.
“Hi.” Keyleth waved with her underwear in hand before she realized that she was naked and whirled around to face away from him.
Vax had been staring. He wasn’t sure for how long but he had been unabashedly taking in every inch of flesh he could see from the side of her. She was usually better at spotting him anymore but she must have been distracted. Bright hair wonderfully curled along her shoulders and lithe frame hidden with secrets he wanted to uncover. When she turned from him he took his eyes off of her and glanced over to the side. “Hey. Sorry. I just wanted to let you know I was back. I’m going to go get cleaned up. I didn’t mean to stare. Pretty rude of me.” He hadn’t but he was only mortal with such divine fruit so close by he couldn’t help but gaze after it.
Keyleth stuttered a little while she clutched her clothing close to her, “No. It’s fine. How did it go? You guys were out for a while? Catch anything?”
“Uh. Yeah. Some wolves along the border but I can see you were getting ready for bed. You’ll wait for me?”
She sighed and thumbed the clothing in her hand. This was ridiculous. She had already seen him naked and he had touched her body through her clothing. It was hardly fair. But she was scared of what he might truly think of her when her curves...or lack of them were displayed. If he might decide she wasn’t what he thought and leave her. For a brief moment her heart froze and she couldn’t breathe with the thought. No. That was stupid. He wouldn’t do that. Before she let her mind wander to think about the pros and cons of turning around she did. “Vax.”
He turned back and found her facing him. The clothes in her hands floated to the ground and she stood sort of hunched over as a blush colored along her cheeks. Her teeth began to worry at her lip and she shifted uncomfortably while she watched him watching her but kept her arms down at her sides.
“You can look if you want.” She whispered to him with an uncertain smile.
“Uhhhh.” He blinked once, twice, three times at her while she shifted from foot to foot.
She stepped...shuffled forward closer to him and the light in the room was more than enough to see every feature in bright detail. Not like Vesrah and candlelight. She felt his eyes on her body while her hands twitched as she fought the urge to cover up.
Vax’s expression softened and he walked forward with his gaze not quite on her to pick her nightgown and shook the fabric out before he started to roll it up to fold over her head.
“Wait.” He paused with his hands raised and she couldn’t help the burst of bright warmth that flooded her chest. “I told you to look.”
“No. You said I can look if I want. I do not want to if it makes you uncomfortable. I know how shy you are. It does not bother me.”
“You don’t want to look at me?” Even though she wanted to cover back up there was a voice now that echoed much of her doubts stronger now. He didn’t want to look at her.
“I did not say that. I said that I do not want to look if you are uncomfortable.”
“But. I. I. I’ll be fine. It’s just a lot. We’ve already taken a bath together. It just seems silly to--.” She trailed off and he sighed.
“There is no rush. None at all. I’ve never had the same views on nakedness you have. Your upbringing and mine were different. Are different. Vex and I are not shy people at least not when it comes to the physical. You are and I think that’s adorable and perfect. You don’t need to make yourself comfortable with doing the same thing I have.”
“But I want you to look. I’m not as curvy as Vex or as pretty as a lot of other women we’ve met. I’m tall and lanky and freckled and my breasts are smaller than hers and my feet are weird but--.”
“Your feet are lovely and I can’t get enough of your freckles. There is no comparison so you don’t need to say such things about the woman I love. You are perfect. Not because or in spite of your physical attributes. I love your kindness, and your freedom of spirit, your bravery, your compassion, the way you see the world very differently from us, the way you light up a room whenever you step inside it, the way you are learning how to be you and lead your people, your cleverness, and the way that you love me so fully and completely it takes my breath away whenever I think about it. I do not need to see your body to know these things. I very much appreciated the view I had when I walked in. Make no mistake about that but we don’t need to rush. These things will come when they will and to force them would do neither of us any good, alright?”
Keyleth let him pull the dress over her head as she lifted each arm to follow it. The short night dress fell to just above her knee and billowed a little before it settled. The thin straps did nothing to cover her shoulders or collarbone as normal for her sleeping clothes. Vax leaned in and kissed her soundly and with all the warmth she knew he had for her. “You liked what you saw?” Another whisper and sheepish hopeful look full of uncertainty accompanied by an awkward eyebrow raise.
“Yes.” A chuckle leapt from him at her poor attempt at an eyebrow wiggle. “I liked what I saw. Now I need to get a bath of my own before I really make a mess of my sister’s floor. I won’t be long. Keep the bed warm for me, honey.” She leaned in to kiss him again before he broke off and closed the door to the washroom behind him.
She sighed and rubbed the softer nightgown between her fingers. It was stupid. She picked her underwear off the floor and slipped it over lean legs before she climbed into bed and ducked under the covers.
Vax appeared fresh and clean, gleaming from the bathroom in a fog of steam as he rubbed the towel through his long dark hair and shot Keyleth a disarming smile before he threw the towel back in the bathroom.
“Can I brush your hair?”
“Yeah. Always.”
She sat up and he grabbed the brush to hand it to her before he sat down on the bed and let her groom him with gentle hands and tender touch. The braid neater this time than before as she handed him the brush over his shoulder and he tossed it onto a dresser before he pulled her forward by the wrist. He pressed her palm to his lips then her wrist and over to the back of her hand. “Thank you. I’m sorry I wasn’t back in time to eat with you.”
“It’s fine. Percy and Cassandra were good company. I didn’t mind too much. I missed you though.”
“Me too. And you know, don’t you? You have ever been beautiful to me. Not just in form but in spirit and you would not show me anything I would not already know to be true.”
Keyleth remained silent as she sighed out a breath through her nose. “I know.”
“I’ll also have years to look at you naked.” He grinned and kissed her palm again. “No rush.”
“I liked seeing you naked.” Her cheeky whisper came out in a stutter.
Vax turned then and his grin darkened in a way Keyleth would describe as sexy as she leaned away from him but he rolled his back and pinned her down with a smooth motion onto the bed. “Good.” He claimed her lips in a deep embrace as he sank down to press her into the soft mattress. It was chaste but full of devotion and she stroked down his bare back. Her thighs spread apart and his hips fit into the open cradle they created. It felt right to have him there above her and she wanted to keep him pressed to her body for as long as she breathed. “It would be okay if I fell asleep like this, right?”
“I might need to pee in the night and I don’t want to make a mess out of this really nice bed.”
“True.” He sighed and dragged his body over to the head of the bed and she followed into his open embrace.
“Vasselheim tomorrow, right?”
“Right.” He kissed the top of her head as he told her more about his day with his sister and she with Percy and they drifted off to sleep with hands entwined and her leg thrown over his thigh to press as much of her body as she could along the firm line of his body.
Chapter 12
#Vaxleth#vax'ildan#vax/keyleth#Keyleth#Fanfiction#Critical Role#Vox Machina#rated m#slow burn#Slow Growth
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The Gods. Pt2 Leo Valdez x reader
Paring: Leo Valdez x reader
Warnings: none
A/N: so i have no idea why i never posted this, so if there are any issues... oops haha sorry.
“This is so cool!” Leo exclaimed. “Where are we going?” He choked as a pegasus feather flew into his mouth.
“A safe place.” Annabeth stated. “The only safe place for kids like us. Camp Half-Blood.”
“Half-Blood?!” Piper’s voice had a tint of offense. “Is that some kind of bad joke?”
“She means we’re demigods.” Jason said. “Half god, half mortal.”
You glanced at him. “You seem to know a lot, Jason. But, yes, he’s right, demigods. My father is Poseidon, god of the sea, Annabeth’s mother is Athena, goddess of wisdom, and Butch is the son of Iris, goddess of rainbows.”
Leo choked again. “Your mother is a rainbow goddess?”
“Got a problem with that?” Butch yelled through the wind.
“No, no,” Leo assured. “Rainbows. Very macho.”
“Butch and (y/n) are our best equestrians.” Annabeth said. “They get along great with the pegasi.”
“Rainbow ponies.” Leo muttered.
“I’m gonna throw you off this chariot,” Butch warned.
“Demigods..you think we are- you think-“ Piper’s stuttered sentence was cut short when suddenly lightning hit the chariot’s left wheel on fire.
“Why are they-“ Piper questioned the storm spirits new appearance, panicked.
“Anemoi come in different shapes.” You hurried out. “Sometimes human, sometimes stallions, depending on how chaotic they are. Hold on! This is going to get rough.”
The pegasi raced faster causing the chariot to blur. The scenery changed to left, the right, and below as you raced through the sky. The wheels fell of the chariot and everyone started to drop out of the sky.
“Aim for the lake!” You screamed.
The chariot crashed into the lake. The water felt refreshing however it must have hurt for the others. The small current didn’t hesitate as it pushed you to shore. Your clothes were dry as you walked out of the lake. Butch was reaching the pegasi and Annabeth was just reaching the shore with the two boys behind her. Piper was the last to pop up and you helped to her feet giving her a blanket. The campers arrived with the blow dryers and blew the soaking kids off.
“Annabeth, (y/n)!” Will pushed through the crowd of campers. “I said you could borrow the chariot now destroy it!”
“Sorry Will.” You apologized. “I’ll get it fixed I promise.” Before you could say anything else he turned his gaze to the three new campers.
“These are the ones? Way older than thirteen. Why haven’t they been claimed?”
“Claimed?” Leo asked.
“Any sign of Percy?” Will asked his eyes going to yours and Annabeth’s.
You looked down as Annabeth answered. “No.”
The campers exchanged nervous glances and whispers.
Drew stepped forward looking the new three up and down.
“Well, I hope they’re worth the trouble.” She said.
You have her a dirty look.
“Gee, thanks. What are we your new pets.” Leo snorted.
“No kidding. How about some answers before you start judging us. Like-“ You cut Jason short.
“We will answer all your questions. Drew,” You sneered her name. “Calm down, all demigods are worth saving.”
“However the trip didn’t accomplish what I hoped..” Annabeth admitted.
“Hey, we didn't ask to be brought here.” Piper said.
“And nobody wants you hon, does your hair always look like a dead badger?” Drew hissed.
“Does your face alw-“ Travis Stoll put his hand over your mouth before your retort could leave your mouth.
At the same time, Piper stepped forward ready to give Drew a nice one however Annabeth stopped her.
“We need to make our new arrivals feel welcome.” Annabeth glared at Drew.
“We’ll give you each a guide to show you around the camp. Hopefully by campfire tonight, they’ll be claimed.” Annabeth said.
“Would somebody explain what claimed means?” Piper asked.
The bright hue of holographic image catching your eye. People gasped as they recognized the firey sign of Hephaestus.
“That is claiming.”
“What’d I do?!” Leo backed toward the lake. “ Is my hair on fire?!” He moved his head all around.
“Wait what about the curse-“
“Shut up.” Annabeth said quietly.
You cleared your throat. “Leo, you’ve been claimed by-“
“A god.” Jason interrupted. “That the sign of Vulcan, isn’t it?”
“Jason,” Annabeth said carefully, “how did you know that?”
“I’m not sure...”
#Leo Valdez#leo valdez x reader#leovaldez#leo imagine#leo valdez imagine#PJO#hoo x reader#hoo imagine#hoo
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