#some people turned out to be shitty but not in a way that demands i plaster petty years-old drama all over the internet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astridthevalkyrie · 3 months

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oh my god, bakugo's kind of my friend! | k. bakugo x reader

----> summary: You'd never dare tell anyone that he was your friend. You'd never be so bold. Katsuki agrees. He's definitely not your friend.

----> warnings: quirkless university au, video game violence, fluff n feelings

----> a/n: title blatantly stolen from the office—"oh my god, dwight's kind of my friend!"

----> word count: 2k

God, no, you’re not friends with Katsuki Bakugo.

No one is.

Yeah, okay, that’s not totally true. He’s sort of friends with Ochako, that’s how you met him. He’s actually fairly close to Izuku and Eijiro, his roommates. He tolerates Shoto, might even begrudgingly respect him. And he’s got some weird mutual-depression pact going on with Kyoka.

But you’re not any of them. And you vehemently deny it when people ask, lest he, heaven forbid, think you’re going around telling people he likes you. You saw what happened to Neito last year when he, just once, said something about his friend Katsuki. You’re pretty sure it was the reason behind his switching majors, too, just to avoid being in the same classes with the terrifying blonde.

Sure, you’re in his apartment. Neito’s never stepped foot in here (aside from The Incident). And you’re well acquainted with the people he does clearly consider not-enemies. Earlier today, you and Momo had been out getting chips and soda for tonight. Just half an hour ago, you’d been playing blind karaoke with Eijiro, Izuku, and Ochako on Kyoka’s old laptop and mic that somehow both still had really good audio quality. Not to mention, you and Mina have had at least one class together every semester since you both started—she always races to slide into the chair next to you on every first day.

And you’re currently sitting on Katsuki’s couch, two feet away from Katsuki, playing a battle royale on Katsuki’s console.

“Behind the building,” he mutters, and you hum in acknowledgement, running to the spot he generously marked on the map.

It started a long while back. You and Denki had been playing some shitty racing game, and you’d very easily kicked his ass, leaving him groaning and flopping back onto Kyoka’s lap, where she offered no pity, rolling his head off with a light shove. As you were laughing at the display, Katsuki had taken Denki’s place on the floor, and all but demanded you pick up the controller once more.

(You’d won again. Terrified, you simply claimed that your controller must be broken before racing out of the room.

Imagine your surprise when, the next time you visited, he’d barked at you to assist him with a multiplayer, ordering a pouty Denki off the couch.)

You like playing, and you don’t have a console with as much storage back home, and you’re too broke to be buying multiple games anyways, so you don’t mind taking advantage of Katsuki’s appreciation for your skill. It’s usually a nice way to end the night, whether you and Ochako end up leaving or if you fall asleep right there on the couch.

Shivering, you bring your feet under the wool blanket you’d brought with you. You’re the only one who finds the apartment freezing. Everyone else typically sheds their extra layers, while you once hunted down Eijiro’s sock drawer to steal a pair of He-Man stockings for the night.

“Up in the window,” you warn, at the same time he says, “Oi.”

Both of you meet each other’s gaze for a second in bewilderment, before rapidly turning your attention back to the TV. He dodges the shot from the window, and then continues.

“You been tellin’ people I hate you?”

“What?” Your hands almost drop the controller, but you regain control just quick enough to roll out of the way of a grenade. “No.”

“Kirishima said Tetsutetsu told him that Kendo told him that Tokage told her that you told her I hated you.”

If you weren’t nervous, you’d tell Katsuki you were surprised he even knew all those names. “I didn’t say that. I just said we weren’t friends.”

There’s an awfully long pause. You can still hear the sounds from the game, and the chatter of everyone else in the apartment—Hanta’s trying to rap?—but not a word from your couch partner. If it weren’t for the screen in front of you, you’d be nervously biting your nails or just full on escaping, honestly. Not that you’re scared of Katsuki, at least not more than one should be, but…

Well, the truth is you did see him as a friend. Or, screw it, as more than that, if those little arrhythmias you observed in yourself every time he would raise his hand in greeting when he passed you on campus were any indication. And you know it’s going to hurt—it already does—to hear him confirm the same thing that you told everyone when they asked. That you meant very little to him, in the long term.

“We’re not friends, huh?” he finally says, as more of an inquiry than you’d expected it to sound.

Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t stop staring straight ahead, spamming X to whack someone over the head with a bat. “Um. Are we?”

“Isn’t this your favorite game?” he shoots back, as though that answers your question.

“Yes? So?”

Another pause. You climb up to the roof of some building and emote pointlessly before hopping down and ducking behind a bush to heal. Katsuki lets out a mix of a sigh and a grunt, dashing across an abandoned minefield.

“So,” he snarks, “I only bought it after you told me it was your favorite.”

Faintly, you feel the tips of your ears grow hot. Is that true? That can’t be true, can it? The timing does line up. You think it was back in the first week of October that you mentioned it, and then by Halloween you’d already played several rounds. Between that and losing to Momo in several games of pool, finals month had flown by.

But…

“I didn’t even tell you that.” Your voice comes out meek, and even though you’re in a safe space now, you’re still too nervous to turn your head and look at him. “I was talking to Shoto.” You’d even been half sure that Shoto wasn’t really registering what you were saying, with Ochako an inch away from him shrieking starships were meant to fly-y-y-y-y directly into his ear.

Katsuki grunts. “I was there, wasn’t I?”

If you wrack your memory, you can sort of remember it. He was…on Ochako’s other side? When she got drunk, she usually wanted to whack something, and Katsuki’s arm had been her victim that day, her palm smacking against his elbow at every other sung word.

The heat from your ears travels down to your neck. Over the singing and over everyone else’s conversations, was he paying attention to…you?

“I appreciate it,” you squeak quickly, wincing when you’re shot in the leg, “I mean, that was nice. Thank you. I just—I didn’t think you wanted me telling people we were friends, after what happened to—”

“If you bring up Monoma, I’ll take away your blanket,” he threatens; it makes you chuckle weakly. “You’re not that shithead. He pisses me off. You’re…you know.” You don’t know, actually. “You.”

Yeah, you’re you. You play games with him. You know his friends. You’re the only one who can try to outdance Eijiro to Rasputin in Just Dance. What does any of that have to do with…

“Do you think I ever fuckin’ carried that dick’s bag to class?”

“I don’t—”

“Do you think I had his stupid long ice cream order memorized? Pistachios, on the sides only,” he mimics, and you huff in an affronted sort of way, defensive of your topping choices. “Telling people to shut up so that I could hear what he was saying? Turning up the heat and burning up everyone in the apartment just to keep him warm? Was I inviting him to my place every two weeks just to fuckin’ watch him play Kingdom Hearts 3?”

And so, you finally look to the side. Katsuki’s cheeks are red, and his gaze is still on the television. His thumbs move furiously against the controller, and you have to bite your lip to prevent a quiet you’re really cute, you know that? from carelessly slipping from your mouth.

“But, to be fair,” you attempt, still confused, “you don’t exactly do all of that for your other friends either, Katsuki.”

At your words, he slouches into his seat more, the creases on his forehead deepening as an uncharacteristic frown—a frown, not a scowl—forms on his face. One would think you’d just told him you hated his guts.

“Yeah.“ His glare flickers over to you for a moment. “Exactly.”

There’s a blast from the TV and a realization that hits you at the same time.

You’re not his friend. He doesn’t see you as a friend.

The heat finally reaches your cheeks, and your mouth falls open slightly.

Then, realizing something else, your head immediately snaps back to the screen to see that blast sound had actually been your character getting blown up.

Your mouth falls open. You’d looked away for a few seconds at best. Which aces are in the lobby tonight?

“I lost,” you tell him, crestfallen.

Katsuki snorts. “I didn’t.”

He keeps playing, and your cheeks don’t take any time to cool down. Instead, you stare at him while he’s distracted trying to escape the same vicious bastards who hunted you down, and you note that his face doesn’t look any less heated either. For once, it’s clearly not because he’s just getting into the game.

You wonder if that was ever the case at all, or if he just felt the same striking little jolt you did everytime you two accidentally bumped into each other while playing on this exact couch.

“I think I’m done for tonight.” The announcement comes out a bit louder than you expected. “I’ll probably head back.”

“I don’t think so.” Without breaking his eyes away from the TV, he nudges his head in the direction of the bedrooms. “Uraraka’s dead on her feet, and you’re not walkin’ back alone.”

Has he always purposely caused the fluttering in your chest? “Okay, well. Izuku’s still awake, I’ll just take his bed for now.”

Katsuki’s tongue clicks in a fuck-around-and-find-out kind of way. “Alright. Put the controller back before you go.”

“Fine. Where’s the, uh…” You turn your head this way and that, looking for the little box that they all go in.

“On my right,” he offers casually, not a hint on his face that he essentially just confessed to you.

Feeling a little spiteful, you reach to the side, blanket and all, instead of just standing up and going behind the couch like you would any other day. Purposefully blocking his view of the screen as you reach over him to toss the controller into the box, you smirk slightly when another blast signals that he’s died as well.

Only to yelp when a firm arm shoves you down against his chest.

“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, red eyes glittering in amusement as he watches you struggle on his lap, “I lost too.”

Tokage is going to hear a very different story tomorrow. “And how’s that my problem?”

His grip tightens, fingers gently digging into the thick cloth of the blanket that’s draped over you. “I wanna play again. And I’m cold.”

There’s a small, dumb grin on his face that you’d consider kissing off if it wasn’t mirrored by an equally dumb one of yours. You’re pretty sure Katsuki’s never ever complained about the cold in his apartment. But then, he’s never complained about the heat either. If he wants to be a sauna under you, who are you to deny him? Besides, you’re feeling cold too, you might as well just take advantage of the free insulation.

From the table, in the midst of pouring something that looks like cookie batter into a bowl, Kyoka raises her brow at the sight of you, then pats Tenya’s arm and points.

He mouths something like, “Finally.”

Face burning once more, you bury your face in Katsuki’s neck, and relax in his hold while he presses X to replay.

#bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #valkyrie stories

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

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Chapter 18 - All For You

Guys, I fear this one may be worse than the last angsty one I wrote. Am I getting better or worse? – I have no clue…I’m just in a super angsty mood rn

Also, I know that it “Born to Break Records” I said that Max didn’t know about reader’s godfather passing. What I meant to say was that he didn’t know at the time when he gave reader the trophy after she won her debut f2 race. But, because reader has a special helmet for Imola since Lorenzo was Italian, she’d have to tell him about the helmet.

TW: EMOTIONAL ABUSE, HARSH LANGUAGE, SHITTY PARENTS, AND PHYSICAL ABUSE

I am prepared for the therapy bills…

How does someone write “and they swapped spit” in a romantic way?? Asking for a friend

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

It couldn’t be them.

You blinked and stared in the direction that you had been previously looking. Your eyes narrowed as you gazed at the small crack of the garage and where the gate was. You quickly placed your special helmet down on a table and dodged mechanics as you stepped out. Mitch barely glanced at your leaving as you often went to visit other drivers before the race if you had time. And today, the parade was a bit earlier, so most of the drivers used this time to destress a bit more than usual.

As you got closer, two familiar people stood out to you. Right now, they were arguing with one of the Red Bull security guards. Your face grimaced as you could hear the shouting multiple feet away.

As you got closer, your blood ran colder. You knew it was a bad idea to come out here, but it was like a moth to a flame or even a lamb to a slaughter. You couldn’t stop your feet until you were just a few steps away.

“Mom? Dad?”

The group of three’s heads swerved toward yours. The security guard, who you recognized to be Frederik, looked at you with a questioning face. The other two looked relieved but also angry at you.

Your father rolled his eyes and pointed toward you before yelling at Fred. “See, I told you that we were her parents, now let us in,” he demanded.

Your heart dropped a bit at the statement. You were never one to stand up to your father, especially when he was already angry.

Your hear barely nodded, almost as if you were trying to even convince yourself that you were fine with them invading your life.

Fred looked over with concern.

“It’s ok Fred.”

“Are you sure kid?”

Your mother huffed. “She said it was fine. Now let us through.”

Fred sure took his sweet time to unlock the gate, something that you could find some thankfulness for.

Your mother came close to you first and wrapped you in an awkward hug: one that you did not return as it was too quick to reciprocate. Your father just stood there, with the same disappointing stare he always had.

You put your hands to the side. “What are you two doing here? Last I knew is that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

Your father rolled his eyes and your mother let out a squawk. “Is that what you’ve been telling your friends? Goodness gracious child, going around speaking lies.”

You winced at her demeaning tone.

Your father spoke next. “You make it into Formula 1 and forget everything that we did for you? How fucking pathetic.” He all but spit out the last word.

“Kid!”

Your head whipped around at lightning speed. Mitch was waving at you from the garage, a curious look on your face.

You tried to give her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your face. “Coming!” You turned toward your parents. “You can follow me, but please do not touch anything and just stand in the corner.”

That earned another round of scoffs and groans.

“Someone has gotten bratty I see,” you mother seethed.

You paid no attention and walked back to the garage. You only knew that they followed you because you had memorized their footprints long ago when you were too scared to even get out of your room on multiple occasions. There was a difference between their normal strides, angry strides, and sneaky strides that they used when they tried to “catch” you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing – like getting an extra snack because they “forgot” to make you dinner.

You had hoped that Max, Christian, Vito, or even Mitch would be right there when you walked in, but the universe definitely hated you today. The said four were standing in a little circle, probably going over some last minute data. You had stopped in the entrance and watched them, scared that they would ask questions.

While you were watching, a rough shove was directed toward your back, sending you to the floor and making a noise. Your knees were definitely bruised now and your hands were scraped on the concrete. Max, Christian, Mitch, and Vito all turned toward the noise. You had just gotten back up and continued walking, parents behind you.

Some of the engineers had watched your father push you and were starting to question as to who he thought he was, pushing you around like that.

“Oops, didn’t see you there,” your father said.

Vito’s back straightened in defense when his eyes looked at your parents. You shot him a sorry look as he made eye contact with you.

“Ah there you are kid. We were just going over some last minute notes. Who might this be?” Christian asked, walking toward you. Right now, he was thinking that they might be some older couple that you might have known from your childhood.

Boy, was he wrong.

Your eyes glanced back at your parents and sent Christian a look, trying to communicate to him that you really didn’t want these two in the garage.

“Uh, Christian, these are my parents.” Your hands lightly raised in the air, as if to show them off.

Christian’s eyes darkened as he looked at the couple. Max behind him was mentally killing them both. Mitch was just wondering about how she could get you out of this uncomfortable situation.

“Y/n didn’t tell me that we’d be having personal guests today,” Christian said, folding his arms in a defensive pose.

You prayed that your father wouldn’t roll his eyes at your boss.

Your father only stared at the slightly taller Brit before looking at you, annoyance evident on his face. Your mother, once again, scoffed.

“Wow,” your mother let off a very fake giggle, “our own daughter didn’t tell you that we were coming? Shows you how much appreciation kids have these days.” Another fake laugh followed.

Max winced at the sight of your crest-fallen face. You looked absolutely miserable.

“Hmmm, doesn’t sound like our kid.” Christian tried to back you up.

Your mother had walked over to where you special Imola helmet was laying. She picked it up and twirled it around.

It was a beautiful piece of work. The colors of the Italian flag blended beautifully. On the side you had Lorenzo’s crest with his birthdate and death-date underneath as a tribute to him. You watched as her lip curled in disgust. But, you also saw as one of the mechanics came up and took it directly from her, telling her that no one but you or authorized personelle should be touching it.

Christian spoke up again, “Well, we are very busy right now and I need to speak to my drivers.”

But before Christian could get you away, Max stepped forward, a false smile on his lips and a hand stretched out.

“Max Verstappen, three time World Champion.’

You knew this shpeel very well. Max only said the whole title when he was over someone’s bullshit, or he knew that they were just using him for his fame.

Your father had some type of dumbstruck look as he took Max’s hand. The fuming Dutchman used this opportunity to tightly squeeze his hand, tighter than a normal handshake should have been. It made him happy to see your father wince at the grip.

Your father’s hand then came and rested on your shoulder. You tensed as his grip got much harder and harder, probably leaving yet another bruise. “My daughter has a lot to accomplish if you’re her teammate. Good thing she doesn’t have the talent to outshine you.”

You hated it when your father belittled you. He had done this multiple times in front of old friends. He was a manipulator and a narcissist. Your breath, that had been a bunch of harsh inhales and exhales, started to hitch. Clear signs of a panic attack were just around the corner. And your team could tell that you were about to possibly have a meltdown if you didn’t get out now.

Mitch finally spoke up. “We have a race in just under 30 minutes and I need to privately go over something with my drivers. Max and Y/n, please follow me. Christian, I need you as well and Vito you know what to do, we’ll be in the main driver’s room (Max’s driver room).”

Your manager gave your parents one last glare before rushing out of the Red Bull garage.

Mitch was totally bullshitting them because it was actually closer to 45 full minutes rather than less than 30.

Max held your shoulders, much lighter than your father had. He noticed your breathing had started to pick up. He sent a worried glance at the Team Principal who was currently clearing the way.

To you, it felt like your head was underwater. Everything was blurry as you looked at the world through tears, and your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. Your skin felt tingly and it pricked where Max’s hands were now gently holding your elbows as he guided you to the room. You could barely hear them trying to get you to calm down.

Once in the room, you had sunk to the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, as a means of protection. Hands waved in front of your face, trying to get your attention as you stared numbly forward. Each wave shook a flinch out of your body.

A sudden inhale brought on ugly sobs as you tried to breath out apologies for things you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please, please don’t hurt…me.”

Your speech was broken, along with the hearts of Max, Mitch, and Christian who watched their strong girl break down because of someone who should have loved you. Quick knocks on the door alerted the room of someone else.

You suddenly froze, not breathing, as you were thinking that your parents were about to invade yet another safe space. Yet, your vision was filled with red and familiar cologne.

Your body acted on autopilot as your arms wrapped around the familiar figure of your boyfriend.

His voice was still fuzzy as he started to rock you back and forth.

Arthur looked around at the pained faces of your teammate, race engineer, manager, and team principal as they all looked down at you.

Christian kneeled down next to the younger Monegasque. “Is there anything we can do?”

He thought for a moment. You were curled sideways in his lap. Your legs were scrunched in fetal position, arms wrapped around his bicep as you clung to him. Your head rested against his chest with your eyes still closed.

“Her blood sugar gets low after an attack, can someone find some juice?” Vito and Christian all but bolted out the door.

“Mitch can you turn off the light? And Max, please rub her back. I’d do it, but her arms are wrapped around mine.”

The lights suddenly dimmed behind your eyelids and a hand gently touched your bad, trying to see if you’d flinch. When your back didn’t tense, Max continued to apply gentle pressure and his hand moved in small circles.

A big sigh escaped your lips as you came down from your sobs. Your lungs burned with each ragged breath, but they were thankful for new oxygen.

Your eyes remained closed as you took a minute to get your bearings in order. You tried to count down in your head starting from 100, which normally helped you calm down faster. You finally cracked your eyes open and sat up a bit straighter. The hand that was soothing on your back lifted away. A whine almost escaped your lips, but you reeled it in.

Arthur took notice of your open eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How are you doing? You were out of it for a while. Much longer than usual.”

You hummed. “I’m ok. A bit…”

“Thirsty?” The voice of your manager sounded as he walked in with multiple juice boxes in his arms, Christian behind him with even more juice boxes, and a certain Monegasque driver carried a variety of snacks in his arms.

Your eyes widened with excitement as your hand reached up to grab an apple juice from Vito. Arthur quickly took it from you and pressed the straw in and held it to your lips.

“Small sips,” he reminded you. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew he was right.

After a couple of sips, you asked, “How long was it this time.”

Your legs finally stretched out from their crunched position.

“Almost twenty minutes,” Mitch told you, handing you an icepack to put on your head. She guessed that you may be prone to migraines after panic attacks and got you one just in case. Mitch was glad to see you take it and put it on your head immediately.

The room was silent for a moment, before Max spoke.

“Kid, what were they doing here?”

You sighed. “I thought I saw them and I went to go check it out. Turns out it was them, and I really can’t speak up against my dad when he’s angry.”

Arthur concluded, “So he bullied you into getting what he wanted?”

You winced at the word, but nodded just the same.

Christian spoke up. “I couldn’t get them kicked out of the grand prix since they had tickets, but they aren’t going to be in the garage. Do you feel all right to race today?”

“You don’t have to kid if you aren’t feeling well,” Mitch also added on.

You shook your head. “No, I want to race.”

The room knew what this weekend meant for you. When you had happily shown them your new helmet, their eyes had welled with tears as you talked about the man who loved you more than life itself.

Max, who hadn’t known until Wednesday, had given you the biggest hug when it was a good moment. You didn’t know who was comforting who at that moment, but the hug would go down in your list of top 5 hugs ever.

Arthur sensed that you wanted to stand by the way you were wiggling. He slowly helped you to his feet as he pressed another juice box into your hands. Charles quickly opened a bag of Cheetos as you stared at the orange bag.

“I ran to Logan,” he simply stated. He knew that the American was the one who always had your favorite snacks on hand. One, because it was a big American brand, and two, the blond had a soft spot for you and always kept them stocked.

You took the orange twist and happily munched on the snack. The digital clock on Max’s desk showed that there was about 10 minutes left until you needed to get into the car. You quickly finished the small bag and chugged the rest of the juice.

Christian had to step out and start heading to the pit wall. Mitch followed the older Brit so that she could get to her spot inside the garage. Max and Charles left because Max needed to go over some things with GP, while Charles had to run back to Ferrari to get into his own car.

Vito stayed behind to check on you for just a few more moments. He knew first-hand how scared your dad and mom made you feel.

Then it was just you and Arthur for a couple of minutes. Your forehead pressed against his.

“Thank you, for coming to help.”

Arthur chuckled. “You really need to stop scaring me. No flipping today, ok?”

You nodded before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips this time. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, but he couldn’t help it.

You gently punched his chest. “Thur, you do that every single time.”

Arthur brought you back closer. “It’s just because you make me so happy chéri.”

You gave him another peck, before you led him out of the room. He helped you put your helmet on, and did his ritual “forehead kiss” to the top of it. With your handshake also done, you climbed into your car. The mechanics who had seen you with your parents made sure that you were all right. They were met with a bright smile and a thumbs up from you.

For this race, you qualified rather high. Max had pouted because today had been a Ferrari front-row lock out. You had to remind him that he had beaten Charles before from starting father back. It seemed to pacify the Dutchman.

Starting Grid

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Y/n L/n

George Russell

Lewis Hamilton

Daniel Ricciardo

Logan Sargeant

Alex Albon

Oscar Piastri

Lance Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Nico Hulkenberg

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Valtteri Bottas

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

To say this would be one of your worst races (and you'd DNF-ed before), would be an understatement. Your migraine had come back and your water was completely out by the last quarter of the race. You hadn’t been able to keep Charles off for long for Max to catch up, which made Charles take the lead in the second half.

Max had also been confused as you had dropped behind him as well when you should have been your strongest.

You loved racing, but today you hated it. Your brain felt as though it was pounding with a sledge hammer against your skull.

“For the first time in almost two years, Charles Leclerc has grabbed a victory. Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2024 Imola Grand Prix. Max Verstappen clinches second with his rookie teammate Y/n L/n right behind him to make it a 2-3 for Red Bull. They are followed by Lando Norris and Lewis Hamilton…”

Race Results

Charles Leclerc – 25 points

Max Verstappen – 18 points

Y/n L/n – 15 points

Lando Norris – 12 points

Lewis Hamilton – 11 points

Oscar Piastri – 8 points

Alex Albon – 6 points

George Russell – 4 points

Logan Sargeant – 2 points

Carlos Sainz – 1 point

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Pierre Gasly

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Zhou Guanyu

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Daniel Ricciardo

Standings After Imola

Max Verstappen – 168 points

Charles Leclerc – 120 points

Y/n L/n – 80 points

Lando Norris – 73 points

Lewis Hamilton – 60 points

Oscar Piastri – 53 points

George Russell – 35 points

Carlos Sainz – 34 points

Alex Albon – 26 points

Fernando Alonso – 23 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points

Logan Sargeant – 19 points

Lance Stroll

Pierre Galsy

Yuki Tsunoda

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 248 points

Ferrari – 153 points

McLaren – 126 points

Mercedes – 95 points

Williams – 45 points

Aston Martin – 23 points

Racing Bulls – 21 points

Alpha Romeo

Haas

Alpine

When you pulled into Parc Ferme, you barely had the strength to get out of the car. You only found out that you needed to get out was when Max lightly tapped your helmet and held out a hand. You gratefully grabbed it and Max hauled you out.

“Are you ok?” he asked, with concern storming in his blue eyes. A nod of your head pacified him for now.

Your headache only got worse when you spotted your parents standing at the wall. You tried to send the team apologetic looks when you walked right past them, something you never did even if you didn’t even podium for a race. You always ran to their open arms.

You’d send them lots of coffee and gifts for their families to make up for it.

You kept your helmet on for as long as you could. It helped to damper all the loud noise of the paddock.

Max and Charles both recognized that you wanted little to no noise if possible, so they kept quiet or spoke in soft whispers if they did speak. You immediately sat down in a corner, trying to cool off and will your migraine away.

You only opened your eyes once again when you were called to the podium. You were thankful that you didn’t feel any panic as you walked out and stood on the lowest step. You watched as Max walked out and stood on the second place step before watching Charles almost skip to the top step. You giggled as you watched the Ferrari driver subtly stick his tongue out at Max. For a moment, you were scared at the repercussions but Max only smiled and rolled his eyes.

You took off your cap for the Monegasque anthem along with the Italian one. When you were handed your trophy, you gently kissed it (even though it didn’t light up) and held it to the sky while also pointing. The two older drivers watched as you looked so happy. Deep down, they wanted you to be on the top step, but your time was coming.

Max was then handed his trophy. His lips were a bit tight, but he’d get over it.

Charles was quite the opposite. You guessed that he was finally happy that his dry spell was over. A sixth career win and first in almost two years. You clapped as the red-clad driver held his trophy proudly.

Your head was still pounding, but the migraine was slowly going away. You didn’t have much strength to do your usual champagne cannon, but you still sprayed Charles as much as you could. When there wasn’t anything else to spray, you poured the rest on your teammate.

You had a giant smile on your face as you looked down at the crowd. Yet, it slowly disappeared as your eyes found your parents, looking up at you with distain clearly written on their faces. You turned to Max, who was already looking down as well.

He pointed down, though, right next to them where Christian and Geri were both standing, proud smiles on their faces as they looked up at you.

Geri was trying to communicate for you and Max to stand closer and to smile for her camera. You quickly put your hand around his waist to bring him in closer. With trophies raised and bright smiles, she held a thumbs up when she took the picture. Christian just continued to look at the two of you as though you had just won him every single race possible.

You were then assured off the podium and back to the garage.

“I promise, I’ll find you after. You know how much I hate wearing my clothes after they get sticky,” you told Max as you walked toward your drivers room.

You had barely just gotten you shirt on when your door opened and closed.

Your rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have just waited?”

You turned, expecting either Max or your boyfriend. Yet, you were met with a slap across the face. Your cheek stung as you shakily raised a hand to touch it. A hiss left your lips when your fingers glazed your reddening cheek.

You barely had time to get try to get away, before another hand hit the side of your head, making your migraine slowly creep up again.

This time, a sob slipped through your lips as you looked at your parents, who were fuming.

“What did I do?” you tried to get out, voice cracking.

“After everything we did for you, you can only get a shitty third place?” your mother spit.

“Seriously, how fucking pathetic do you have to be. Offering up the trophy to someone who is dead?” your father questioned.

It was your turn to suddenly seethe. You pointed a finger at your dad. “He loved me. He taught me everything I know.” You knew you were pressing his buttons, and you were about to press the big red one that says Do Not Press. “He was the man that you’d never be.”

Another hit to the face had your head swinging. You knew that there would be a big bruise in the morning. But you were proud for finally standing up to him.

Your mother’s hand hit the other side of your face, sending you staggering back to your dad. You braced yourself for another hit, but it didn’t come. Your eyes opened and widened at the sight of your teammate with murder in his eyes.

Christian was behind him, on the phone, with your manager to the right, boyfriend and his brother on the left.

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Max spoke, scarily calm. Your father jerked to hit him, and that was game over.

Security came quickly after Max had some more colorful words and quite possibly a hit to his face so that your father’s matched yours.

Arthur had come to wrap his arms around you, as a protective barrier.

As you watched your mother and father be led out by cuffs, the news coming that they had been banned for life from any Formula 1 activity, and that Vito had now gotten you a restraining order (something he said that he should have done years ago just in case) – you knew that you had finally found the family that you had always wanted.

The family that you had always needed.

And you’d keep racing and winning, because 4 years ago, you made a promise.

To keep going and to keep fighting.

As you walked out of the garage, with a third place trophy and your helmet, you gently pressed your own kiss to the top of it.

“You’d be proud of me,” you whispered, “and it’s all for you. Because you were everything that I needed.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Imola was an experience. Glad I could podium in my late godfather's country to make him proud. I wish he could have been standing there to watch me today, but I have three other men who are enough for me. To Christian, Max, and Vito - I love you three, thanks for always watching my back. Oh, and my boyfriend is pretty great too, he's just shy. Thank you for an amazing experience, I'll be back next year to win (Charlie move over)

tagged: christianhorner, maxverstappen1, and vito_official

liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, vito_official, and 94,294 others

y/n_nation I'm not sobbing, you're sobbing

kid_y/n geri and christian both smiling like proud parents killed me

maxverstappen1 why would you do this?

y/n.89 ?? charles_leclerc he's crying right now y/n.89 oh, sorry not sorry?? maxverstappen1 you will be

christianhorner I know I can't speak for him, but he'd be so proud of you kid

gerihalliwellhorner we love you sweetie! can't wait for the next family dinner! maxverstappen1 family dinner? sebastianvettel you didn't get the invite?? y/n.89 oh no christianhorner uhhhhhh charles_leclerc he's crying again

mad_max the way that in every picture, they're looking at y/n

y/n_updates aahhhh the boyfriend has been mentioned!!!

y/n.89 I can't believe we're going to the track that THEE lightning mcqueen drove on

arthur_leclerc you mean...the Monaco Grand Prix....where you live...my hometown...Charles's home race... liamlawson she said what she said - lightning mcqueen's race charles_leclerc I'm done y/n.89 LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RESPONDED TO ME???? LIAM LOOK AT THIS liamlawson I'M LOOKING charles_leclerc goodbye y/n.89 DON'T GO

f1 see you all in Monaco!

author can everyone forgive me now?

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup

PART TWO

"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.

He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running.

It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard.

His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it.

That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules.

"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it.

That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was using Eddie as an excuse.

"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor.

Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.

Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself.

The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing.

Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp.

Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned.

"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?"

"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled.

He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care."

"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless.

Steve blinked at him.

"What?" He said.

In for a penny right?

"I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick."

"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."

For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force.

He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately.

Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either.

His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…

Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it.

Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife.

Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive.

Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way."

(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."

"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”

“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”)

The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it.

"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."

Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.

#steve harringtons shitty parents #steve harrington #gareth #gareth emerson #my beloved lil side character #steve and gareth as secret cousins #SECRET COUSSSIIINS #steve whump #0o0 fanfics

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deliciousbasementtrash · 8 months

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Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. On your way home from work, you encounter an injured superhero. You have seen his secret identity. Now what will he do about it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, verbal abuse, parental abuse, severe injuries

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part One: Is that Trash or a Man?

There is calm chaos when working in the emergency room. You get used to the cacophony of beeps and alarms. Of moans, crying, screaming, and arguing. You get used to being on your feet all day and moving from task to task, from patient to patient. You get used to it because there is no other option. People need care and they need it now. You either step the fuck up or switch to a different unit. Or move to a calmer, cleaner, less crime-filled city. Calm wasn’t really my vibe. Maybe externally that’s what I portrayed, but internally my mind craves the chaos of the ER. It craves the chaos of Gotham. And the Gotham ER was an entirely different beast.

I finished nursing school about a year ago. A lot of my peers used it as an out. They went to more stable cities in New Jersey that had better funding and less chance of getting knifed in the staff parking lot. I was one of the only ones that stayed. I definitely was the only one that worked in the hospital. I couldn’t deny the demand for nurses was high, and the paychecks were even higher at Gotham General Hospital. And maybe some small pathetic part of my brain wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted Gotham to be a better place. Every day I worked. I convinced myself that how matter how shitty it got; I was making a difference. Even if it was only a handful of people in the grand scheme of things.

I could convince myself that I mattered. That everyone mattered. That these people deserve more. They deserve better; they deserve a second, third, fourth, fifth chance. If I stopped trying to convince myself of that I know I would give up entirely. Seeing gunshot wounds, stabbings, overdoses, mutilations, burns, crushings, poisonings, beatings, day after day is a lot like erosion of the soul. Little by little it wears you down. You become jaded and jagged with time. Empathy becomes blame. Hope becomes desolate. Love becomes anger. The only thing you can do is gaslight yourself into thinking you’re making a big enough difference. That you’re helping enough people. After all, the brain can’t tell the difference between truth and irony. You tell yourself so many lies, you can start to believe them, right?

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago

“Dad, when is mom coming home?” My small voice asked. I was scared to make Dad yell at me again. I didn’t like it when I made him yell.

“She’s got stage four fucking cancer she is coming out of the hospital in a body bag, y/n.”

I fought the tears that burned behind my eyes. Dad would get even angrier if he saw them. It was stupid of me to even ask.

I felt him turn to me. His eyes bored into my skull. Quickly, I looked down at his feet.

“Have you tried again?” He asked. His tone clipped. I knew he expected a timely answer.

Involuntarily, my fingers ruthlessly picked the skin around my nails. The sting was grounding in a way.

“No, sir. Well yes, I have tried, but I… I failed,” the last word felt like a hot poker being placed through my throat.

“Look at me.” Breathing became difficult, but I looked up at my father. He leaned his face close to mine. I could smell Jack wafting off him. “What good are you? What good is having healing powers if you can’t heal your sick mother?”

The simple hangnail became a chunk of missing skin. I lowered my head. Fighting back tears.

“Sir,” my traitorous voice wobbled as I tried not to cry, “I keep trying but… I don’t think my power is that strong. I can close cuts, fix broken bones, but tumors are… hard.”

My father tilted his head back and laughed. Hard. He grabbed my wrist as quickly as a viper, “If I could put your mother’s cancer in you I would. You’re about as useful as a wet match in a dark cave.”

I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my cheek. It felt like I was involuntarily waving a white flag.

Gotham City: Present Day

I had to be stealthy with my gift. I couldn’t heal every one of the patients to full health right away. That would lead to suspicion. But if I could help it I could stop the major damage. I would heal internal organs. Replenish blood. Reduce ten fractures to two or one. It all depended on timing and if people were watching me.

I was walking home from the hospital. I only lived about three blocks away. I got off shift at around 20:49. I didn’t start my next stretch for another three days. And I was milking my walk home. Stopping to smell the roses or whatever. That is normally not a very smart thing to do in Gotham at night, especially as a woman. But part of me didn’t care.

Earlier, I looked at my phone and frowned when I realized the date.

Thursday, May 19th.

My mom died 16 years ago today. Waves of emotion flooded my senses. Anger at myself for not remembering. Sadness that she had been gone more of my life than she had been in it. Restlessness for what my father might do or say. Some years he likes to reach out. Others he doesn’t. But most of all I was feeling reckless. Like I wanted someone to give me a reason. Obviously, I would only hurt someone to defend myself or others. But there was so much anger living in my body, part of me hoped some idiot would try something with me tonight.

So, I walked home. Slowly.

Normally, you keep your head down and you keep moving. You don’t look or gawk. You listen out of necessity. I was listening just because I could. It was the normal stuff. Men smoking cigarettes and catcalling. Women were offering their nightly services. Random people either praising or damning superheroes. Drug deals. Graffiti artists. Fights. And of course, people who simply were walking home from work. Gotham had range and was never boring that’s for sure.

But something picked up on the very edge of my senses. Despite my better logic, I turned toward the very quiet sound. It could have just been rats, but it sounded so familiar. It sounded like a death rattle. The thing you hear just before shit hits the fan and the patient codes.

Without thinking I ran down the alley toward the sound. At first, it was nothing. Just trash and rats. But then I saw it. He almost blended perfectly in with the shiny black garbage bags. His cape was the same color but reflected the light less.

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” I walked hesitantly forward, grabbing my pepper spray just in case.

The man did not answer, he only garbled and coughed. My work brain took over my fear. Instantly I rolled the man over and began assessing him. I suppressed a gasp when I rolled him over and a familiar cowl mask came into view. It was cracked down the middle. His face was bleeding from an unknown location. His breathing was labored and staggered.

Calmly, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against his chest.

Oh yeah. Batman was dying. He had several broken ribs. A pneumothorax. A bruised liver, kidney, and pancreas. His cardiac output was a joke. The man had no perfusion.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hold back like I do at the hospital. I just healed. And healed. And healed. I healed him down to his bone-on-bone knees, sprained ankle, and fractured wrist.

God, this guy had a lot of injuries.

I was close to passing out by the time I was done. I had done too much, ate, and slept too little. My powers were demanding when it came to energy. If I didn’t eat or sleep within 30 minutes I was about to pass out next to bat boy himself.

I gave him one last assessment. After double-checking that he would live and that I didn’t miss anything I finally looked at his face again.

This time I gasped. Batman was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? I shook my head like I was clearing cobwebs. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Much like Batman, I didn’t want people to know what I could do. The last time people knew…

Just as I turned and took a few steps I rolled my eyes at my nagging thoughts.

What if someone sees him before he wakes up?

Reaching into my tote bag I pulled out a black medical mask. I not so gracefully MacGyvered it across his exposed face so that it was covered. And with that, I made my way home.

My cat, Hashbrown, eagerly greeted me at the door. I nearly fell asleep locking it. I bent down to pick her up and gave her a kiss on her perfect little cat head. I ripped my gross work scrubs off, threw them in the wash, and crashed on the couch in my underwear before my brain could process what happened.

I healed Batman.

I healed… Bruce Wayne?

Part Two, Part Three

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justporo · 9 months

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Astarion making use of his skills to help Wyll

Shamelessly using this for an original post because I like the idea too much! Spoilers ahead, be warned!

So, as this post imagined (and thanks for @daedriclys for tagging me):

What if Astarion just went "ahem, I'd actually like to take a look at this legal document, thank you very much!" and went to help Wyll with his contract by Mizora.

I'd love to see how Astarion would take the opportunity to do something good for someone else because personal growth and redemption. Also this fucking devil can eat shit, Astarion's tired of people being forced into slavery.

So he fiercly interrupts and demands that Wyll will have at least a day to review the contract and when Mizora agrees through gritted teeth, the party gets to work: Astarion admits that he might be a little rusty and that he was shit at his job back then, but he's dead set on making this one thing right. (Also we know he knows history, so I feel it's not hard to imagine him being a bit scholarly and enjoying to learn things and figure stuff out - also he is smart!)

So he drags the whole party to where he knows is a Law library in Baldur's Gate and tries to find out everything on these kinds of contracts. He goes over the contract again and again trying to find ways out for Wyll while everyone else has turned into his research assistants (Gale is obviously his lead researcher because that man knows his way around a library). ("No, Karlach, it's 'pacta sunt servanda', spelled p-a-c-t-ugh, you know what, please let someone help you with looking for it!")

They spend the whole 24 hours to work out the best possible solution and when Mizora comes back her jaw is on the floor because not only did her plan not work, Astarion got Wyll some compensation and a severance-package worked out and might even sue. Also Astarion reads out every single term and condition and exactly decodes why it is shitty and wrong and why the wording could have used some work, all in his sassy little tone - while Mizora is fuming, but she has to listen to it, because formalities will have it that way.

And Astarion might play it down afterwards for just liking the challenge but he's actually so happy he could actually use his specific knowledge to help someone - and kinda remedy some of his past wrongdoings.

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savannahsdeath · 9 months

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SOCCER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X CHEERLEADER!READER

PART 2TWO

part 3three

part 1one

mdni please<3

summary: effects of the match seem simple - ellie either wins and gets what she wanted, or not. but even the score doesnt make things less complicated, as the past wont leave you

warnings: minors safe🩷

writers note: the start is shitty because i was writing it in a rush but it gets better after first goal i promise!! also this ones shorter because i had to stop right there cus i dont know wether to make it ellie x reader or change it to vi....

'that's right, put your pom-poms down

getting everybody fired up'

you were excited for the match. not only did it mean that ellie was going to try her best to win your kiss, but the stakes were higher than that. you'd been excited for the rematch between your team and vi's team - your ex's team - all year, and now the time had come.

soon, the match was about to start, and you and the other cheerleaders took your positions on the sideline to cheer for your team. ellie and other players took their positions on the field, looking confident as well.

you cheered, watching ellie play against vi. the match was close, and the score was tied for a while. then, ellie managed to score a goal, turning the score to 1-0 in favor of their team.

you cheered as loud as you could for ellie, feeling a bit torn between wanting your team to win and not wanting to see ellie get her reward so easily. but just like you, vi had also noticed the connection between the two of you, and had to do something about it - she had no intention of letting the flirting continue. as the leader of her team, she made sure that they were playing aggressively, and they managed to tie up the score again, making it 1-1.

you watched as vi celebrated her team's goal with her team's cheerleaders, and you frowned, not at all happy to see her happy.

first 45 minutes ended, making all players spread out. some drank water, some stretched or practiced, but most of them just rested. ellie walked into your direction before suddenly stopping and turning around. just then, vi appeared in front of you.

"we need to talk." she demanded and you knew you have no choice.

you followed her as she led you away from the field. the two of you walked silently for a bit, until she finally turned to you.

"i've noticed you flirting with ellie." she said, her expression dead serious.

you couldn't help but stare at vi, trying to process what she was saying.

"what makes you think that?" you asked.

"don't play dumb. i've seen the way you look at her." she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"what's the big deal anyway?" you inquired, trying to keep the conversation calm. you shrugged and added; "we broke up months ago."

"you're flirting with her right in front of me!" vi crossed her arms, glaring at you. "do your feelings towards me mean nothing to you anymore?" she asked.

you hestitated for a moment, not sure wether it's a good idea to bring this sensitive topic to the conversation. but you couldn't stand it anymore. "my feelings for you disappeared as soon as you cheated on me."

vi's eyes widened. she seemed genuinely surprised by your response - maybe she hadn't expected you to be so candid with her. "i never did. it would be different if you'd just- listen to me back there instead of believing what people say!"

you raised an eyebrow at the girl. "believe what people say?" you scoffed. "people don't just make something like that up."

you couldn't believe that she was actually trying to deny her betrayal.

"i don't want to hear it." you said, glaring at her. "i'm moving on, and you should too."

vi looked hurt. she clearly wasn't expecting such a bold response from you, and wasn't sure what to say.

"i should go." you said, turning to walk away.

"hey, wait a minute." vi exclaimed.

you defensively put your hands in the air. "no, that's it. the break ends soon, you should get ready." you nodded towards the field. "now, excuse me, i have to go cheer on ellie, so i don't miss her second goal." you said with a smirk.

vi rolled her eyes, so you could tell that you had hit a nerve. it wasn't necessary, but she deserved it. unless she wasn't lying...

you rolled your eyes back in retaliation, enjoying the little victory you had over her. you didn't even realize how intrigued you were by the match- no, by ellie, until this talk.

you didn't want to waste time chatting with vi, so you started walking towards the field. you saw ellie talking to her team on the field.

the second half of the match started, and the wave of cheers from the crowd got louder.

the last twenty minutes.

you watched as ellie started running towards the opposing team's goal, dribbling and dodging opponents with exceptional skill.

as ellie approached the goal, she noticed you in the crowd. she winked at you, and you couldn't help but grin back. as if she knew that she was going to score another goal, ellie took the shot, and it went in.

2-1 in favor of your team.

your ears were deafened by clapping, some people even stood up and jumped around. the game went on but ellie let herself rest for a moment, her players carrying the situation. even now, on her sweaty and tired face, you could see the same smirk she always has. she was proud, simply proud.

vi didn't like that, though. she saw the smile on ellie's face, and she knew that ellie was doing this for you. she kept yelling at her players, telling them to try harder.

soon, one of vi's teammates managed to push through your team's defense and scored a goal, making it 2-2.

vi smiled, looking right at you as she celebrated, encouraging her team to hold their position.

as the match neared its end, both teams tried their absolute best to score a third goal, but to no avail. time was running out quickly, and it seemed that the match would end in a tie.

you glanced over at ellie, watching as she ran back and forth on the field, sweating profusely and looking exhausted. she had given her all for the match and almost scored another goal, but it just wasn't enough.

the ref blew his whistle, as the match had officially ended.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW ARE YOU GUYS TEAM ELLIE OR TEAM VI??? i need yalls opinion🧎🏼‍♀️

TAGS: @wandasromanova @bellaramslover @aouiaa @glennns-blog @elliewilliamsfuckbuddy @iheartsadiesink @ximtiredx @coff1nn @jowdann @simpforellie @iveofficiallylostmymarbles @skylerwhitwyo @pinkigirl @islalips @ratdungeon @okayyesbutno and some more i cant tag for unknown reasons:(

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yellowbunnydreams · 3 months

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Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 1]

~Hi lovelies, I'm aware I have been a shitty author and disappeared for a long time, but I have been trying to get caught up with real life and honestly kinda hyper-fixated on minecraft for a week but I'm determined to write! I want to give you all the lovely things so here is an extremely belated Valentines Day fic about monstrous William Afton~

~Happy Valentines, Galentines, Pal-entines and fork-tines to you all! Today we're doing something a little bit silly and something very sweet in honour of the romantic day....A silly fic of monster William x oblivious reader, because let's face it, we all have at least one moment where flirting has gone straight over our heads and we missed the boat.~

@ruh--roh-raggy

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU

William Afton ran his tongue over his teeth as he lost himself in thought once again. His silvery eyes watching you behind gold-framed aviators as you chatted with your co-workers, the blaring and beeping arcade lights casting colours against your skin in a way that made the older man suck a breath in through his teeth and click his tongue disapprovingly at himself. William had excellent control over himself both professionally and personally, there were plenty of times where his nature wanted to take hold of the reigns and control his actions but he rarely let them.

You were his little indulgence.

As the type of creature he was, it was hard to control obsessions and indulgences. Where did the lines cross? It had been years since he last let himself slip over the line and it had resulted in some unwanted agreements and commitments, a fact he was constantly reminded of whenever he received a letter from his thankfully former wife demanding reconciliation. She never knew the real him though, and William couldn't ever remember a person beside his best friend and his best friend's wife that had ever seen the real him. Just as he had seen the real them.

But as you turned and glanced at the older man leaning in the doorway into the 'employees only' corridor and gave him a little bright smile like always, he couldn't help his usually stern expression quirking at the corner of his mouth to return the smile slightly. You had that affect on the taller man, even if you were unaware of it or his perhaps less than selfless intentions behind it all.

You'd been working at Freddy Fazbear's pizza for just over two months, and in that time you'd made plenty of friends amongst the various members of staff. The cooks knew your break order and always happened to have an 'accidental' order of your favourite cheesy garlic sticks when you'd had a tough shift, people knew that they could rely on you to cover shifts when sick or that you actually knew where the first aid box was.

In general, people liked you, even if you were keenly aware of your one persistent flaw. You were...naïve, at times, and sometimes jokes and stories flew over your head whilst talking with other staff members. And sure, sometimes you'd had your female co-workers come up to you after some guy had talked to you and walked away looking dejected, only to be told they were flirting with you. But you weren't looking to change those things about yourself necessarily, and nobody ever said it was a bad thing that perhaps somebody who was interested in you would have to try a little harder to grab your attention.

"Afton's staring at you again." Your co-worker tutted, crossing her arms and making you look over towards him despite her hissed protests. Spotting the taller man with greying temples and those thin gold aviators that gave him a much more sophisticated look despite his yellow pin-stripe shirt that was a little baggy on his seemingly broad body. Giving him a friendly smile as he was indeed looking your way, seeing his usual frown twitch slightly as he nodded at you and shoved off from the wall, beginning to wander back into the halls of the pizzeria. "He's such a creep."

"He's not! Mr. Afton's lovely, maybe he's just shy?" You suggested, making the woman in front of you raise her eyebrow sceptically.

"Maybe if he was in high-school, he's a grown ass man, he should say something to you if he wants to say it!"

"Well, he and Mr. Emily do like to stand around and make sure everything is running smoothly. He's probably staring cause we're standing around." Shrugging your shoulders as your colleague shook her head and threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh.

"He's been staring at you for like....a month now? Anybody would think you were being sized up to be eaten or something. Or maybe he wants to fuck you." Wriggling her eyebrows suggestively, you smacked her arm and felt your cheeks heating up as you shook your head.

"Don't be silly! Or rude! Mr. Afton wouldn't think like that towards any of us, we're part of the Fazbear family!"

The young woman looked over at a couple of their co-workers sneaking kisses in the pass, with copious amounts of tongue like teenagers who had just discovered the concept of french-kiss and were delighted with the prospect. Shaking her own head as you wandered off to continue working, not wanting to disappoint your bosses.

"Yeah, perhaps a little more 'incestuous' than you realise though." Muttering under her breath as she trailed behind you, helping with the cleaning chores you both had to complete before the next dinner rush.

Meanwhile, William made his way into the offices at the back and made the man already inside jump slightly at his sudden entrance. His dark, short curls greying slightly and wearing an obnoxiously yellow shirt and brown slacks that made William's stomach turn slightly at how bright his friend was. Henry smiled at him from his desk and turned back to looking at the papers on his desk, allowing William to squeeze past and slip into his desk in the back.

The wooden top was cluttered with sheets of paper in neat stacks and animatronic parts in various spread states of disarray. Afton despised paperwork being out of place, but something that he deemed creative like his animatronics were fine to be in various messy states, art to him was supposed to be chaotic and messy. But his thoughts were distracted by that little smile you'd given him, running his thumb over his index nail repeatedly as he stared at his desk.

Henry noticed his silence and turned around in the swivel chair, facing his friend with a curiously raised eyebrow before scooting closer and forcing William to look up at the sound. Frown on his face as Henry broke out into a grin.

"You went out to look at that employee again didn't you?" Henry teased, making the taller man groan and rub his face under his glasses, jostling them from the comfortable position they had been in and forcing him to adjust them before he glared at Henry.

"None of your fuckin' business."

"Oh you did! And it our business! Do you think you might...pursue?" He asked, leaning on the edge of William's desk, making the other man sigh and shrug his broad shoulders as he averted his eyes back onto the projects on his desk.

"Been a while since I...Think I'm just an old bastard at this point." A slight smirk tugging at his lips as he watched Henry rolling his eyes, a huffing, snorting sound that William recognised as a more annoyed sound.

"Where did all your bravado go? Are you sure your previous wasn't a succubus or something? Sucked all the life out of you."

"Wouldn't that be fucking ironic. Must've been a vampire, drained me dry and not in the nice way either." Henry pulled a face and leaned over to smack William on the shoulder, the firm clap reminding William how strong Henry was despite his more slender frame and growing stomach from his wife's cooking.

Both men sat there for a moment before Henry sighed, running his fingers through his curls and shaking his head to dislodge the soft round ears from ontop of his head. Feeling his face getting slightly more full as his teeth pulled at his gums uncomfortably, blinking up at William who simply blinked back.

"Nearly new moon huh?"

"Yeah, it fucking sucks that I can't really leave the office or the house in case, but that's what I have my best friend and my wife for, huh?"

"Don't let your wife figure out they're separate titles." William chuckled, watching as Henry stretched his jaw and pawed at his face as he tried to encourage his more ursine features back into place.

"No way, I value my life and she will absolutely hand me my ass in silver bullets." Henry laughed and shook his head, looking back onto his own desk and spotting the poster for an upcoming event that made his face light up in an even brighter smile as he turned back to William. "You know what you should do?"

"What?"

"Ask her to the staff Valentine's staff-do!"

"Absolutely fucking not!"

"Come on, why?" He whined and William huffed, curling his lip up to reveal teeth a little too sharp to be human before he cleared his throat and cracked his neck, giving Henry a much more normal smile afterwards.

"It's so stupid, and plus, I need to refresh my skills, that takes time you know."

"Just go with what you've got! In fact, start today! Go out there and get flirting! If you don't have a date to that staff-do, I swear to god William, I'll bite you."

"Can't pass on the ursanthropy to me, Henry. But the thought of you biting me in any form is unpleasant." William sighed and stood up from his desk, watching Henry scooting back to his desk and rolling his eyes as he sighed.

Afton hated things like Valentine's Day, thought about all the overpriced flowers and chocolates that were out and about and the tacky foil decorations that would be used once and then ripped down within a day and never mentioned again. But Henry, annoyingly, was right about the fact that it was an opportune time to ask you out and flex his fingers with the charm a little.

It didn't take him long to find you, carrying piles of flat pizza boxes to make-up for takeout and humming slightly as you headed down the winding corridor, peeking over the top of the stack to see where you were going before a pair of hands reached out and took some of the boxes on the top.

"Let me get some of that for you, sweetheart." He chuckled, easily holding the boxes in his large hands and making you smile appreciatively, adjusting your grip on your own stack and feeling better that you could see where you were going and wouldn't run into anybody.

"Thanks Mr.Afton! I hope this isn't too much trouble." Watching as William shrugged and chewed over his lip, glancing over you briefly.

"It's no trouble, hey! Do you like raisins?" He asked suddenly, making you pause as you mulled over the question.

"I mean...I'm not keen?"

"Then how about a date?" William grinned from ear to ear, watching your expression gleefully as you blinked up at him.

"I mean..I might like them? Haven't tried raisins in years, I might have to try them again. Thanks for helping Mr. Afton!" You smiled, wandering through the corridor and towards the front of the restaurant once again, not aware of the flabbergasted look on her boss' face as he stared after you.

You weren't sure what had changed the next day when you came in for your shift, early as always and humming to yourself when you cleaned up. Henry Emily and William Afton came in through the front door, silence between them as you noticed that Henry had a pair of dark sunglasses on despite the early morning light and William had on a tight black t-shirt and jeans, looking more like a biker with a bit of a dad-bod going on. Blinking in surprise as neither of them were really dressed in the professional attire you were used to them being in.

"Good morning Mr. Emily, Mr. Afton!" You called out, causing both men to stop and turn their attention towards you. Afton looking at you with that stern expression he always had whilst Henry attempted a smile, although it fell quickly and settled back into a slightly pained look, causing your brow to furrow with concern.

"Ah, morning," your name was added quietly onto the end, Henry reaching up and rubbing his hand over his face. Secretly checking himself for any subtle transformations, William glancing at him from the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to you. "How goes set-up?"

"Well Mr. Emily, although...are you okay? You look a little sick and tired today. Maybe you should be at home?" Voice laden with concern and head tilted slightly as you watched Henry, managing to miss William's slight smile at your concern for his friend. Henry shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders lightly.

"Ah, yeah just not been sleeping well. Not sweet enough dreams perhaps." Trying to put some humour back into his voice as William lit up and decided to try out another technique on you, feeling his face settling into a confident smirk once more as he looked you over. Somehow you made even the uniform look cute.

"Not like you, hey sweetheart? You're sweet and a dream." You turned to look at him as the much taller man spoke, the same blank expression on your face for a moment before you laughed and shook your head shyly, averting your gaze from his silvery eyes. Wondering if you had ever been so close to him, other than when he picked up the pizza boxes for you.

"You're too nice Mr. Afton, I really just try to be myself." Shaking your head and not noticing as Henry scowled at William from the side, shaking his own head and rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses. "Well, I better get back to work, please take care of yourself today Mr. Emily, and please look after him Mr. Afton." Giving each of the older men a smile before turning back to your duties and allowing them to move on. Still curious as to why they were dressed less formally.

Henry all but grabbed William and dragged the taller man into the back areas and to their cramped little office. Both men staring down as Henry took off his sunglasses and revealed his more yellowish green eyes, the pupils blown out as he struggled to keep himself full in check as the new moon was only a day away. Holding onto his friend's thick arms for a moment before crossing his against his chest, foot tapping impatiently as he had to look slightly up to see William's face.

"What the actual fuck was that?"

"What was what, Henry?" William asked coyly, smirking as the werebear before him huffed and growled in annoyance. Narrowing his eyes as Henry gestured back out towards the main floor where you were.

"THAT! Was that you flirting?"

"Yeah? Girls love that shit, just cause you get that whole 'mate' thing doesn't mean everybody does buddy." William rolled his eyes and crossed his own thicker arms across his broad chest, staring down at the smaller man as he shook his head. Henry running his fingers through his dark curls for a moment as an exasperated sigh escaped him.

"When did girls like that, the eighteen-hundreds?"

"Watch it, and it was the eighties as you well know."

"Either way, you're an old bastard."

"Shut the fuck up, Emily." William growled, his own teeth changing slightly as his lip curled and revealed sharper canines than before. His own monstrous nature leaking through his carefully held together image before Henry blinked and he was back to normal.

Both men headed off into the offices, Henry still shaking his head and glancing at William with a sense of disbelief. His friend was loosing his touch and honestly, he wasn't sure what he could do to rectify the situation without being blunt and to the point which would entirely ruin William's whole thing.

"You're possibly the world's worst incubus, William Afton." Henry muttered under his breath, making William snort and smirk in return as the office door opened and he allowed his features to shift slightly. Sharp teeth, flatter more squashed nose and nails sharper as greyish brown fur started to creep down the back of his neck and onto his forehead, mixing into where his salt and pepper hair normally was neatly swiped back.

"Says you, I'm just getting started." His features turning back to normal as he shook his head. Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders as the monster once against became the man.

Your phone buzzed on the bedspread as you sat eating cereal in bed and watching some true-crime programme that had come on when you turned on the TV. Almost missing the soft sound before you reached for it and tapped the screen with your thumb to light it up, pausing as you saw it was a text notification and heart pounding slightly as you saw the name attached to it.

William Afton.

Tapping it open, you wondered if perhaps he was asking you to cover the shift the next day, since you had a couple of days off. Although it was usually Henry who reached out and he never texted, always phoned since it was 'more professional'. He had looked sick earlier, so it wasn't out of the realms of possibility that he was handing over the responsibility to William to try and limit how much stuff Henry himself had to do. You paused as the text loaded after a moment and your eyes instantly landed on a photo of William.

It took you a moment to register. But it looked like it had been taken from around waist height and pointed up his body, his greying hair slicked back and wet like he'd just gotten out of the shower, those gold wire aviators catching the light but still able to see his grey eyes and his greying beard. His broad chest was covered in a tight purple shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the first three buttons undone and letting you see a touch of his dark chest hair that you somehow never realised you knew would be there.

Confused, you looked at the text that came afterwards, your eyes straying back up to the picture occasionally as you tried to figure out what on earth was going on.

'What do you think to the new shirt?' Still confused, you balanced the bowl of cereal on your lap before texting back, thinking on what to reply as you scanned the picture one more time before your fingers moved across the keyboard.

'It's a nice colour on you Mr. Afton. Did you mean to send this to me though?' Turning back to eating cereal and watching the TV for only a moment before your phone buzzed again and you looked at his name popping up on the screen once more, tapping on it to read as you chewed over your next mouthful.

'Shit, really sorry, this was meant for Henry. Thanks for your feedback though.' You tried for a moment to think how your name might end up next to Henry Emily's in his contacts but didn't think too hard about it, popping another spoonful into your mouth before texting back, wanting to reassure the older man that it was a simple mistake.

'It's no problem, I'm not doing anything at the moment anyway. Was just surprised that you texted me.'

A few minutes passed before your phone vibrated again, and you were welcome to the distraction since the programme had become kind of boring and predictable, it was clear who was the murderer and anything was better than the cliche music and dramatic cuts on the screen.

'Not doing anything? A young lady like you should be out and about! I'm curious as to what type of nothing you're up to now though.' The text made you laugh and shake your head, chuckling as you texted back quickly. You weren't sure what it was about the text exchange with William Afton, but it was enjoyable and you couldn't help the involuntary scroll up in the chain of texts to look at the photo again whilst you waited for his reply after your own.

'Sat in bed, eating cereal and watching TV. Really nothing exciting Mr. Afton. I can imagine your evening is more exciting than mine.'

'Well that rather depends on your definition of exciting. What would you be up to if you didn't have the cereal?' A strange question, but you shrugged and replied in the only way that came to mind. Totally unaware that William Afton was across town and laid in his own bed as soon as you mentioned being in yours, a small smirk on his face with one hand tucked up behind his head as he thought it was genius to potentially lure you into a salacious conversation.

'Get up and get cereal :p'

Your reply left his blinking at his screen and he turned his head to look at the floor length mirror across the room, seeing his more monstrous face staring back at him. Soft bunny ears folded back across his head and covered in a fine layer of salt and pepper fur. His large figure spread out across the bed, his clawed fingers running over his head and flatter face, nose twitching as his eyes eyes stared back behind his glasses. The bedding up to his waist hiding most of his transformations, tucking his knees up and curling up his lip to reveal his sharp teeth as his foot stamped in annoyance against the mattress. Feeling the small vestigial wings against his broad back flutter once and curl slightly around his arms in a motion of self comfort. The lagomorphic incubus was beginning to doubt his own abilities and he didn't like that.

What was it about you that resisted him so easily? He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought it might have something to do with the fact you had always seemed to have a few things...go over your head, to put it politely. Chewing on his lip as he looked at himself once again in the mirror before he closed his eyes and tapped his head back against the headboard, frustrated that it wasn't going exactly to plan.

Unaware of your boss' frustration, you gave up waiting for him to say something back, glancing at the clock and wondering if perhaps he had simply fallen asleep. But you had a small smile that he had talked to you for so long, and wondered if he had enjoyed the conversation too. Putting the dirty bowl on your nightstand to be cleaned up in the morning and sighing as you settled back into bed.

Scrolling back up, you couldn't help one last look at the picture he had sent, cheeks flushing with heat as you shook your head, tossing the device to one side as you rubbed your face. Wondering what on earth had gotten into you that you kept going back to look at your boss and admire the little features of his face.

#william afton #william afton x reader #springtrap #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #fnaf movie #springtrap x reader #william afton smut #william afton x you #fnaf x reader #monster au #monster william afton #monster henry emily #incubus

157 notes · View notes

darnell-la · 11 months

Note

Hiii there! may I please request a Bellamy Blake mean and dark dom smut with !female grounder reader? An enemies to lovers thing with a lot of tension or anger and fighting m so they just give in and have hot steamy smut?💖 ty!

world count: 5,9K

pairing: Dom!Bellamy Blake x Grounder!Reader

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Hatred to love

Bellamy Blake’s pov

"This place is so shitty," I said as Murphy and I stepped through the overgrown woods. We've been here for let's say, 6 months, and I've never felt more used in my life. Now that the 100 of us helped the rest of the people on the ark, we can work to reduce our time away.

To top off us being enslaved, we must deal with these people we call grounders. They’re violent and dirty, and think they own the place.

“Better watch what you say before y/n hears you,” Murphy joked, making me scoff. Y/n’s the leader of these grounders and she’s a real pain in the ass. She’s always arguing and demanding things. They also protect her and do whatever she tells them to do.

“Or what? Is she gonna stab me? We have guns and I don’t think they have treatment for that,” I said as Murphy shook his head. “I don’t understand why you don’t like her. She’s cool,” Murphy said.

I rolled my eyes and stopped, annoyed that people kept saying the same thing to me. I don’t get what they see in her. She’s violent, dirty, and has the worst attitude you could possibly think of.

“She’s not cool, she’s just some girl that thinks she has a say in everything,” I said. “First of all, that girl is 20, and second, she does have the day of everything. At least around here she does, and we choose to follow them since we landed in their territory,” Murphy said.

“And if you have a problem with that, you can barge into wherever she lives, and argue with her. Hell, fight if you need. Anything to shut you up about her at this point,” he said.

“Whatever man,” I said then kept walking, trying not to stay here all day and argue about how much I despise y/n. It just pisses me off how many people tolerate her.

“You’re not gonna stop me, so save your talking,” I said to Murphy before pushing past him and a few other friends. I’ve had enough of y/n and her demands.

I walked through the overgrown forest, stumbling over sticks and rocks, thinking about if fighting y/n is the best idea.

She’s the best warrior they say and she shows absolutely no mercy. Even if I were to beat her, her people would kill me for making her surrender. I’ll have to get her alone.

As I thought of things to do, I made my way through the forest until I was finally at the grounds of the grounders. They know me, so they let me in easily which was a big mistake.

“Y/n?” I asked the guards of this small village y/n’s always at. They nodded their heads then turned around to walk towards, where I guess, y/n is.

“Y/n!” One said as we walked upon y/n reading a book that my people gave to her, to little kids. They seemed happy and like they were having fun. I think this is my first time ever seeing her smile.

“What did you come here for?” She asked. She always seems like she has a tone with me. Only me. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to walk and talk. Only for 10 minutes or so,” I lied. I have to get her away from the guards.

“Now you know I can’t do that. They always follow me. Where ever I go,” y/n said as I sighed. “I know, but, maybe they’ll make an acceptance this one time. Please,” I begged as she tilted her head.

Y/n got up and walked toward me and the guards. She said something in her language that I still haven’t learned yet, then walked passed me. “10 minutes,” she said.

“So what did you actually bring me out here for?” Y/n asked as she finally stopped somewhere a bit far from the village. “I was thinking we could fight,” I said.

“Fight?” She chuckled. “Pathetic,” she added. “What’s pathetic is that you need a whole army to fight for you,” I argued. “That’s just how we work,” she replied.

“What do you wish to fight for?” She asked, making me smirk. “If I win, you stop this boss act and I get to show people that you’re not as strong as you make yourself to me,” I said.

“And if I lose, you can keep your little act going and I’ll be very, very embarrassing,” I said as she rolled her eyes, holding back a laugh I wanted to slap away from her.

“Bet,” she said, a new word that she got from our kind as she jumped off of the log she was standing on and attacked me. I was almost unprepared but moved out of the way fast enough and kicked her back.

“Good reflexes. But not good enough,” she said as she turned and kicked my legs, causing me to fall to the ground. “Fuck,” I groaned then quickly rolled over as she was about to kick my face.

“Fighting dirty, huh?” I asked as I got up. “Nah, just want to get this over with,” she said before running towards me. She’s always been an attacker which is hard to fight against since she always makes the first move.

“Already tried?” She asked, looking down at me after giving me the worst blow to my stomach. I hate her but I won’t ever doubt again that she’s a good-ass fighter. “Nah,” I said, about to kick her legs to make her collapse but I heard a gunshot.

I quickly looked around as I stayed on the floor, hoping to see anyone but I can’t. “Y/n, get down!” I yelled-whispered because she still standing like she was in shock. She can’t be in shock right now.

“Y/n!” I yelled. She slowly looked down as her hands lifted up towards her stomach. “Did your people use their weapon on me?” She asked slowly as she pulled her hand away from her stomach showing blood.

“Ah, shit!” I said as she dropped to the floor. “No, no, y/n, you have to get up! Y-You can’t be out here. Shit! Fuck, uh, fuck. Y/n, get up!” I said as I tried picking her up, but another shot was fired but don’t hit us thankfully.

“Hood your fire dumb fucks! I made her fight me!” I yelled out so my people can stop this madness. They just fucked up our stay here. Her people will never forgive us for this.

“Bellamy, am I dying?” She asked, sounding like she was about to pass out. “Shit! No, no, you’re not dying. Just- Just stay still and hold this down,” I said as I took my shirt off, and lifted her ripped-up shirt to press down on her wound so she won’t bleed out.

“Guys, stop it! She needs medical assistance!” I yelled back as I saw her trying to break correctly and keep eye contact with me. She still seems fearless. How could I do this to her? What did I do?

“Don’t worry, she’ll get it,” an unfamiliar voice said. “But that won’t be needed for long,” they added. I looked around until my eyes landed on people in a has max suits and a dude without one. Everyone had a gun.

“W-Who are you?” I asked as I kept trying to push down on her wound. “We’ll get to talking once we get what I need,” he said then snapped his fingers. That’s when the people started making their way towards us. Towards her.

“What? No. No, back away! Back up!” I yelled but they didn’t listen. “No! No!” I yelled as two people pulled me away. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” I yelled, making the dude without a suit on, chuckling to himself.

As one guy went to pick y/n up, she lifted her arm and stabbed the dude in his neck causing him to fall back and bleed out.

“Get her now! We don’t have time for this!” The man said. That’s when a few people attacked her, taking her weapons and then dragging her away. They’re manhandling her while she’s screaming in pain.

“No, no! Help! Help us!” I yelled, hoping one of her people followed us so they wouldn’t completely have no eyes on her but they actually trusted me. Fuck. I kept repeating my yells until something knocked me on the side of my head.

“What is this shit!?” I yelled at the man as he threw y/n on her stomach, onto this medical chair and then strapped her down. They didn’t even patch up her wounds. She’s bleeding out and groaning in pain.

“I can see you’re not too happy. I assumed because of how you guys fought, you didn’t like each other but I see otherwise now,” he said as one sergeant pulled out some big needle that I’ve never seen in my life.

“What the- Hey! Hey, get away from her! What is that!?” I asked the man as he took a deep breath, about to tell me the most inhumane thing I’ve ever heard of.

“That needle you see is what we use to subtract bone marrow from the grounders who’ve been able to breathe on earth for hundreds of years,” he said as he sat in front of me after a guard placed a chair down.

“You see, my people can’t survive the outside but they can. People like you can too which is surprising,” he said. “We’ve been studying you guys and we finally got one of you which will help another few of my people,” he added.

“What? You’re gonna- You’re gonna fucking- No, let me go! L-Let her go! I swear to god-“ I went to say but he cut me off. “What will you possibly do?” He asked then snapped his fingers. Seconds later, his guards took me away as I yelled and demanded them to let me go but they wouldn’t listen.

Maybe an hour went by since the guards threw me into this clean and well-kept-up room. I’ve been thinking of ways to kill this man and escape. We can’t stay here.

As I was about to start my banging on the door that I’ve been doing every 10 minutes, the door swung open to two guards dragging y/n into the room by her arms.

She looked dead. My heart skipped a beat until I noticed she was alive by her whimpers. They patched her up but her blood is still leaking through her bandage.

“Here,” a third guest said as he walked through the doors and threw a medical bag at me. “Fix her up, would ya?” He said then walked out with the other two after they dropped y/n on the floor.

“Shit, y/n?” I said as I grabbed the medical bag and sped over to her. “Mhm?” She asked as I began to work on her. First I cleaned her up while keeping a conversation with her so she won’t fall asleep.

“I need you to keep talking to me, okay baby? Keep talking,” I said after watching her eyes get heavy. “Hurts,” she said right before slipping away and passing out.

“Y/n? No, y/n, stay up!” I said as I fastened my process before she looses too much blood. I’d she dies, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I made her go out, far from her guards to fight her.

I’ve always said that if I had the chance to kill her, I would but that’s a lie. Just a big fucking lie. I can’t do that to her. She’s one of the kindest, most responsible, and most thoughtful people I’ve met. I really fucked up…

“Guess I didn’t die,” I heard y/n say as she leaned up on the bed I laid her on. “Yeah, I guess,” I said as I quickly got up and walked to the side of the bed. “Hey, hey, chill out,” I said as I leaned her back to check her wound.

“Why are you carrying for me? Didn’t you want to fight me? Maybe even kill me?” She asked after slapping my hand away from her. “Hey!” I slightly shouted as I grabbed her wrist. She tried tugging away but I tugged back to get her to stop.

“Listen! You’re hurt and your people would probably kill me and think I shot you if they find your lifeless body bled out,” I said then pushed her wrist away and went back to slowly pull the big patch I placed on her.

“It sent Straight through so that’s good. I didn’t know until I started patching you up. You’ll heal within a few months but it takes a good year to get back to your normal self,” I said. “A year!?” She yelled.

“Chill, okay? I’ll take care of you and shit,” I said, making her laugh. “You? Take care of me? Yeah, it’s hard to feel comfortable around someone who got me in this situation!” She yelled at me.

“I didn’t mean to get you shot! I just want to put you in your place and-“ I tried finishing. “Put me in my place? And what is that? Ruin what I and my people had going on for hundreds of years. We were doing good with and without you,” she said.

“You need us,” I said as I leaned over her to intimidate her but she leaned up. I can tell that she was in pain but she kept a straight face because that’s who she is. She’s strong. That’s what I like about her…

“You don’t scare me, Mr. Blake, so don’t lean into my face and not do anything about-“She went to get aggressive but I cut her off by smashing my lips onto hers. She instantly stops talking. My eyes are shut but I can tell she’s looking at me with wide shocked eyes.

I slowly lifted my hand up to place my hand on her cheek but she quickly gripped my wrist, stopping me. I kept my hand up, not giving up until she slowly let my wrist go, allowing me to place my hand on her face.

Now she’s kissing me back and I can’t tell she’s probably never kissed anyone. She’s not bad or anything, but she’s flinching at new things I do like moving my tongue, she’s breathing heavily, and seems very needy.

“You done being mad at me now?” I asked as she kept her lips on mine, kissing me in want. “Shut up and kiss me,” she said as she pulled my face into hers. I did. as told and pushed her down on the bed and hovered over her.

Her small whines are the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. I love how needy, whiny, and sloppy she kisses me. How could I be so mean to someone like her? She’s perfect.

Minutes into making out with her, I went to trace my hand down to her lower body but someone started punching in codes. I quickly got off of her as she quickly leaned up, snapping out of what we were doing.

“Stay back,” I said as I got in front of the bed to cover her and defend her if they try grabbing and experimenting on her again until the door opened to Clarke. “Bell,” she said under her breath as she sped over to me and jumped into my arms.

“I thought I lost you. We thought you ran away,” she said as I placed her down, not really comfortable with her wrapping her legs around me, right after I just got through making out with y/n.

“No, no, I was just out with y/n and then these people fucking-“ I went to say but she cut me off. “What were you doing with y/n alone? How did you even get her alone without her guards?” Clarke asked like she was upset.

“That’s not the issue right now. The issue is, is that she got shot and they didn’t give her proper treatment,” I said as I walked over to y/n to show Clarke what I’m talking about.

She walked over, seeming like she didn’t really care. “I tried my best but it’s not enough,” I said. “You touch her? Aren’t you like not allowed to? She barely had a shirt on,” Clarke said, focusing on the wrong things.

“Well if I didn’t, she would have bled out, Clarke,” I said with a tone, pissed off that she’s so worried about how I’m taking care of y/n like me and her are dating. Clarke is just another girl to me. Nothing else.

“Where’s the rest?” I asked Clarke so we could end this conversation that was going absolutely nowhere. “Making sure the guards don’t try attacking the people helping the people that are caged up,” she said. They caged people here?

“They’ll explain to you. Let’s go,” she said, trying to pull me with her but I yanked my hand away. “We have to take y/n,” I said as I looked at her with a disappointed look.

“She says she’s strong right? She can get up and get home herself,” Clarke said. “Nah, I think you can,” I said, causing Clarke’s eyes to widen. “You should go,” I said then began to help y/n get up.

Clarke stormed out as I paid no mind to whatever she was fussing about. “You should have told me you had a partner,” y/n said. “She’s not,” I replied. “Doesn’t seem like it,” she said as she backed up from me.

“I can walk myself,” she said then began walking. “Wait, y/n, it’s not what you think, okay? She’s into me. I’m not into her,” I explained. “But she still felt comfortable saying those things about me. You’re clearly showing her something,” she said as she limped out of the room.

I stayed silent and still in the room, cussing myself out that I had something with Clarke. She just fucked up what I and y/n could have probably had. I should have known she’d be like this.

Before I even pressed my lips onto hers, I thought about how all the women would feel about me and y/n being a thing. Clarke was the first to come to mind since she’s the more jealous type. The others have other people so they don’t need me.

SKIP SEVERAL MONTHS

3rd persons pov

It’s been months since y/n’s been shot and she’s doing pretty well. She still works out, trains, and talks to Bellamy but she never dares to speak about what happened between them in that room.

She respected Clarke and Bellamy’s non-realistic relationship and Bellamy respect how angry she was at him. He understood how uncomfortable she could have felt in that situation once Clarke started acting a certain way toward her for no reason.

Bellamy still tried to make small moves but it never really goes anywhere. They haven’t kissed each other since that day. The furthest it’s gone is touched around her clothing to ease her into him but she can’t forget how he made out with her and seconds later, Clarke came in like they’ve been dating for years.

Today’s y/n’s birthday and Bellamy just found out that the grounders don’t celebrate birthdays since they use to lose track of times before the sky people came down.

Bellamy is currently in y/n's room, decorating the place with old birthday decorations he found around the place. They had moved into the mountain men’s home after every one of them fled with suits to go someplace else, scared that the sky people and grounders would come after them for murder.

“She’s back from hunting in a few minutes,” Murphy said as he walked into the room. “Good, and her guards won’t be sticking their noses around, right?” Bellamy asked. “Nope, so you’re good,” he said.

“You really like her, huh? What happened?” He asked as he looked around the room, seeing how much work Bellamy put into it. bellamy was the one to even set up her furniture when they moved in a few months ago.

“I don’t know. It’s like, right after she got shot, I noticed that I’d missed something about her a little too much,” Bellamy said as he sat down on y/n's bed and looked down at the ground.

“I knew you didn’t hate her. It’s easy to tell,” Murphy said. “I read this book that was published back in 2023 and they said that people tend to get more annoyed about people that care about. That’s you to y/n,” Murphy said which is definitely true.

“She’s here!” Monty and Jasper yelled through Murphy’s Walkie-Talkie. “Good luck and don’t be you please,” Murphy joked as he made his way out of the room.

Bellamy chuckled as he got up and walked to the corner of her room so that y/n wouldn't see him when she first walks in. He wants to see her reaction. He loves watching her smile.

“Why is my door open!?” Y/n yelled throughout the hallways. Dammit Murphy. “Hello?” Y/n asked before peaking around the corner to the surprise in her room.

“Oh,” she said confused but slightly amazed. She’s never seen decorations like this before. “Who did this,” she said under he breathe as she took a step into her room with a smile on her face. Just what Bellamy wanted to see. He's never seen her smile this bright.

“I knew you’d like it,” Bellamy said, making her jump a little. “Bellamy!” She shouted then covered her mouth. “You like it, right?” He asked as he slowly walked towards her. “Yes, I actually do,” she said. You could see her blushing.

“Good, because it took me a couple of hours to find everything and put it up,” He smiled down at her. “Thank you,” she said as she began to scan the place and walk around. He can tell she really loves it.

“You know, y/n. I’ve been thinking. A lot. I know we use to be enemies-“ Bellamy said but she cut me off. “You use to be mine. I never hated you but go on,” she joked.

“Yes, yes, I know,” He chuckled. “But after that day in the room, I felt something. I’ve always felt it but it never came out until then. That’s the day I couldn’t force being angry at you or having some type of hatred towards you,” Bellamy said as she turned around and he walked towards her.

“Y/n, I really like you and I’m sorry Clarke said those things about you but I don’t like her. I don’t see anything with her. But I do see something with you,” Bellamy said. He softly grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes.

“So, could we please start over? Start something with each other?” I asked. “Bellamy…” she said as she pulled her hands back. “I can’t. You and Clarke have known each other for a while. I think she’s best for you,” she said.

“But I don’t want her. I don’t feel anything for,” Bellamy said as y/n shook her head with a chuckle. “She still talks about you. She’s obsessed and loves you,” y/n said.

“She doesn’t love me. She just hates the fact that I love you and now her. I’ve never loved her. I barely ever liked her,” Bellamy said making y/n shake her head.

“Yeah, that’s not what she keeps saying. Apparently, you guys have been secretly dating for years and still sneak around at night in your room or go off somewhere where no one will see you,” y/n said, making Bellamy’s blood boil.

“And who the fuck has she been saying this shit to?” Bellamy asked. “Me, Monty, Jasper, and maybe a few other girls,” Y/n said. “Well, that shit isn’t true. She just wants you away from me, that’s all,” Bellamy said, trying to softly grab y/n hands again but she backed up towards her bed.

“Look, we can’t work out, okay? It’s not going to happen,” she said. “Why? Why can’t it work?” Bellamy asked with a tone, getting tired of excuses and other people getting in the way between him and her.

“Because Bellamy! I don’t want you! You’re too different from me,” she said. “What are you talking about? No one who’s together is exactly the same, y/n,” Bellamy said as he stepped towards her.

“You’re not for me, Bellamy so just- Just leave, Bellamy,” y/n said but he didn’t listen. “Y/n, you’re perfect for me. I love how different you are,” Bellamy said as he went to grab her waist slowly but she slapped his hands away, shocking him.

Y/n walked passed Bellamy to get out of his face since he won’t get out of hers but he quickly grabbed her from the back and pulled her away from the door.

“Let me go!” Y/n yelled at Bellamy. Bellamy threw y/n on the bed and then quickly ran over to her door, shutting and locking the door so that she’ll listen and stay where he wants her at. With him.

“Bellamy, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, annoyed that he can’t just leave her alone. Why does he fight so much for her? Why does someone like her so much? She’s not someone who’s likable like this.

“I’m here to show you love, y/n. I fucking love you and you know that. That’s why you’re pushing me away. You think you’re gonna hurt me or some crazy shit but you’re not. What’s going to hurt me, is if you don’t accept me and love me back. I know you like my touch and presence,” Bellamy said as he made his way toward her.

“No, no, no! No, Bellamy! I-l don’t love you! I don’t!” Y/n yelled at him as she rushed her hands through her hair and rubbed her face, stressed that this is happening. She can’t run like usual. He’s got her trapped.

“Stop lying, y/n. It’s getting annoying and makes you look more pathetic,” Bellamy said, getting angry. “Pathetic!? You’re pathetic! You have to trap a woman in a room to force her to love you,” y/n said.

“I don’t have to force shit, and you know that. You fucking know it, so stop lying!” Bellamy growled at her as he grabbed her wrist tightly. “I’m tired of you fucking lying and denying. Admit it. Admit it now!” He yelled in her face, shocking her.

“No,” she firmly said, hating the dominance someone like him can show over her. She’s never felt any kind of dominance against her but from Bellamy. She can’t seem to function right with him talking to her like this.

“Get on the bed,” he demanded after letting her hand go, giving her a chance to listen. “No,” she said, once again with a tone, trying to stand her ground until Bellamy picked her up and threw her on her bed.

Bellamy kept his silence as y/n began to yell at him. He didn’t care. He wanted to shut her for once and make her submit. He wants to get rid of the lies and excuses.

“Bellamy, what are you doing!?” Y/n finally asked after noticing Bellamy’s shirt off. She’s never seen Bellamy with his shirt off. She’s seen his built-under wet clothes hut never more. This is a lot for her.

“You like the clothes I gave you in a box? They’re perfect for you,” Bellamy said, making y/n think. Murphy, Monty, and Jasper said that they gave y/n the box so she’d have the best up-kept clothes since she’s the leader of her people. Now she’s finding out Bellamy chose them all.

That explains the revealing parts, her panties, and bra that seemed a bit too pretty for Monty, Jasper, and especially Murphy to pick out for her. She knew they’d never do that.

“Y-You picked these out?” She asked, knowing the answer already. “Of course I did. Otherwise, I’d have a talk with Murphy about what he picked out for you,” Bellamy smirked at y/n as he slowly climbed onto the bed.

“Now will you finally let me taste you? I bet you’re sweet as a fresh berry,” Bellamy said as he tugged on y/n shorts. She tried slapping at his hands but she’s not really fighting him like she should be.

“Look at that… You look so cute in these tiny little panties,” Bellamy said after getting her shorts off. She tried covering herself up but it was not enough. Bellamy laughed at her attempt as he began to pull her panties down, so focused on what he’s been dying to see.

“Fuck, you’re wetter than I could’ve imagined,” he said under his breath. She had shaved today in the shower for the first time ever. She grew up thinking shaving wasn’t even a thing until Bellamy’s sister gave her something for her birthday.

“No one’s ever touched you here, haven’t they? Tell me I’m the first, baby, and I’ll treat so you right. Better than your people. I’ll worship you more than anyone else can, baby,” Bellamy said, becoming full of lust by the second.

“Bellamy, I can’t,” y/n has snapped out of what felt like a dream, angering Bellamy. “I’m tired of this shit,” he said as he quickly parted y/n’s legs and dived in without warning, lapping his tongue around her floss and clit faster than she could blink.

“Bellamy!” Y/n moaned loudly at the foreigner feeling. She’s never touched herself in any type of way down there so everything she’s feeling feels too great for her. She’s too sensitive.

“P-Please, Bellamy! Oh my!” She cried out, feeling her nerves hit her and her clit swell up. Bellamy began to suck any and everything he could reach. She grew wet, only making Bellamy eat her out sloppier.

“I-I-I can’t Bellamy! I can’t!” She kept crying and shaking as she felt her stomach tighten. She’s never felt this before. She thinks she’s about to pee on Bellamy’s face but Bellamy knows he’s about to take the sweetest thing he could possibly taste.

“Cum in my mouth, baby,” Bellamy said, and right after, y/n released all over his mouth and chest as she shook and rolled her eyes back. The moan she let out felt like music to Bellamy’s ears. He’s never heard of anyone so beautiful before.

Bellamy backed away and hovered over y/n watching her eyes shut and her body shiver from the new feeling she just received.

Bellamy began to take his jeans off as y/n lay there a whining mess, not being able to shake off the orgasm she just had.

“Work with me and I’ll go slow. Resist and I’ll put you in your place, princess,” Bellamy said as she slowly moved in between y/n’s legs, triggering her kind as she felt his bare skin. Her eyes widen in shock at his size.

“B-Bellamy, what are you doing? What is this? What is that?” Y/n asked, feeling a bit scared even though she knows Bellamy would never hurt her in any kind of way.

“It’s yours, princess, and the only right thing to do with it is to get to know it and soak it with your heavenly sent sweet juice,” Bellamy said as he brushed his tip against her entrance to watch her jump a little.

“Let’s see who’ll win this fight,” Bellamy said right before pushing balls deep into her cunt as she screamed and scratched at his chest and abs, feeling the pain but pleasure.

“N-No, this is too much!” She whined as she tried pushing away from Bellamy but he’s not waiting any longer. Bellamy gripped y/n’s neck, placed his hand next to her ok the bed to keep himself up, and began to thrust.

“Bellamy, Bellamy! Fuck, please! Please, Bell,” y/n moaned loudly, surprised at her language and the nickname she called him. “What’s wrong baby? You can finally not take something?” He laughed in her face.

“You’ve been stabbed, shot, thrown off of hills I heard and you can’t take a cock?” Bellamy teased as he sped his thrust. “You can’t take a simple fucking cock, but you can take all of this other shit!?” He shouted at her.

“You’re so pathetic,” growled in her face as her eyes rolled back and her moans got trapped by his tighter grip around her neck. “And you’re about to cum? Didn’t know you were a little slut to degrading, with the title you hold,” Bellamy chuckled as she squeezed his cock.

“I-I’m not,” she whined, which broke into a moan as she came around Bellamy’s thick cock. “Fuck, yes. Cum on my fucking cock and I might treat you better when I fuck your little body,” Bellamy grinned down at her.

“Bellamy,” y/n moaned as she softly grabbed his face and fucked up onto him. Oh, you’re horny? You like it, huh?” Bellamy asked, very surprised that she’s feel comfy with this so fast.

“Y-Yes, I like it,” she whined. Y/n tried pushing Bellamy to the side but he was too strong. He watched her struggle until he let her overpower him and climb onto him.

“Oh, shit,” Bellamy said shocked as y/n grabbed his cock and lined herself up to her own entrance until she dropped down on him with a loud moan. “Fuuuucck!” Bellamy bucked his knees.

“So sexy,” Bellamy growled as he pulled y/n’s shirt and bra off. “Ride me, baby,” Bellamy said. Y/n didn’t waste any time to start. The moans leaving her mouth were nonstop. Her rhythm is as well.

“You ride so good baby. All of that adrenaline in this sexy little body, coming to life,” Bellamy wrapped his large hands around her waist to help her. He gave her ass some smacks here and there, only making her sex drive higher.

“Never knew your tits were so beautiful,” Bellamy grabbed one for a few seconds then began to pinch her nipple to give y/n a better feeling. “Bell,” she moaned as she leaned down in his face.

“Right there,” he said, feeling his orgasm right around the corner. She stuffed his mouth with y/n’s free nipple and began sucking, only having her cum for the 3rd time with a wilder shake.

She still tried to ride him but soon stopped as Bellamy held her down with one of his hands on her waist. Bellamy groaned loudly as he released a big load into y/n. He’s never shaken before. But this time it felt too good to hold still.

Both pulled each other closer together as they rode out their orgasm together.

After cleaning each other up and talking about what the two should do further, they decided to officially be something.

Y/n had to explain to Bellamy that if she were to date someone, within a month, they’ll have to do a traditional marriage because of her title of the leader.

Bellamy couldn’t have had better news said to him. It was one thing for him to be her boyfriend but officially making her his is something he thought he’d have to wait years for. No, he doesn’t.

Y/n and Bellamy lived life to be the best couple anyone could have imagined. They’ve grown both of their people closer and helped generations of people understand that no one is truly your enemy unless you make them out to be.

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m1ckeyb3rry · 1 month

Text

── PEREGRINE // PROLOGUE

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You are invited to the wedding of an old friend.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: literally shaking as i post this because i have NOT been in the bllk fandom for long enough to be writing a fic for it but oh well #livelaughlove. some authors post new stories because they’re proud of their work. i post new stories because then when i write like shit i disappoint less people.

divider credits: @/benkeibear

Seishiro Nagi had always been beautiful when he ran, albeit atypical in his form. He lacked the fierceness that the others on his team had, his feet never pounding against the turf the way theirs did, his strides never swallowing the ground in quite that same manner. Instead, his steps were light, like he was dancing, or perhaps flying, like he was a falcon diving across the field in pursuit of his next goal.

He was the only thing that could unite your entire miserable, shitty town. Everyone was outside that day, crowding in restaurants to crane their necks at the little screen in the corner, pressing together in the square to peer up at the projection of the tied match, which only had a few minutes left to go before the end of the second half.

Nagi had the ball. You weren’t really sure how he had gotten it, who had passed it to him or what maneuver he had used to get around the other team’s defense, but it was all irrelevant. He had the ball, and as he barreled towards the other team's goalkeeper, the entire town held its breath.

Even you, who were never supposed to have much interest in soccer nor in Seishiro Nagi, found yourself worrying your lower lip between your teeth, leaning forward slightly, clenching your fists by your sides.

“Come on, Nagi,” you murmured. “We’re so close. Come on.”

A few more steps and a strategic feint, and then he had made it behind the defenders. The town swelled with anticipation as victory became all but certain, as the clock ticked nearer and nearer to the moment when Nagi would pull off one of those impossible moves of his, where he would slam the ball into the net and win the game for his team once again.

But the moment never came. For some reason, right as he drew his leg back to shoot, Nagi froze. His foot never connected with the ball; instead, it slowly came back down to rest as he stared down at his muddy cleats.

“What is he doing?” someone said. The cheers turned to whispers as Nagi proved himself to be a statue, incapable of moving, of defending his possession, of scoring, of anything. He just stood there, and as one of the defenders stole the ball off of him and passed it to the opposing team’s striker, he did not make any attempts to turn around and make up for his mistake. He just stood there, contemplating something, a cloudy dreaminess settling over his eyes. It was the most disconcerting thing you had ever seen, that complete apathy in face of an imminent loss, that resignation to an eventuality which he himself had created.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” a man screamed, and then it was a mass chaos as the people who had been praising Nagi only seconds earlier turned to baying for his blood, demanding he never play again as a punishment for his great sin.

They got their wish. The next season, and the next, Seishiro Nagi spent every match on the bench, not even afforded the role of a substitute, no matter how tired the rest of the team grew without his relentless presence, how many games they lost when they did not have him to rely on.

That first season after his disastrous loss, he was made a mockery of. Every single news article was about his downfall, every reporter charting out with glee the exact moment that he had gone from the media’s darling to their newest scapegoat. By the second season, though, he was largely forgotten. There were more exciting things, newcomers who had entered the league and dominated matches with their own unique styles, and so when it became clear that Nagi would not give them the reactions that they were hoping for, the journalists turned to talking about those players instead.

After that, he stopped going to games entirely.

There was another woman in your bed. You could hear her shuffling footsteps, the way your fiancé hushed her, her giggles as she ducked into some hiding spot or another, likely behind his neatly pressed work suits. You could picture it now — such a domestic scene it must’ve been. His arm, wrapped around her shoulders as he guided her to the closet. Her fingers, still working themselves free from his light hair. His eyes, a bright amber that would be glimmering from the thrill of the near-miss. Her cheeks, which would be flushed from the shame of your early return home.

You sighed, pursing your lips and then undoing the knot of the ribbon holding together the bouquet of flowers in your hand. Pouring a cup of water into a crystal vase, you arranged the flowers carefully in it, making sure you did not prick your fingers on the thorny stems as you waited for your fiancé to come thundering down to greet you.

“Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be home so early!” he said, leaping off the bottom stair and waltzing into the kitchen, discreetly wiping his hands against his pants.

“Hey, Ryosuke,” you said. “No worries. I was actually just about to head out again; I had thought I’d wash the sheets tonight, but I think we’re out of detergent, so I’m going to run to the store and grab some.”

“Ah, okay,” he said. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

“About an hour,” you said. “I think I’ll stop by Chigiri’s on the way back.”

“Chigiri’s?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “What do you need from him?”

It was ironic. There the two of you were, both pretending like he wasn’t hiding a third in your bedroom, and yet you were the one who was facing his accusations, who was under suspicion for no other reason than because you wanted to visit your friend.

“I lent him our blender because his broke, remember?” you said. “I was going to see if he’s gotten a replacement yet or not.”

“I see,” he said, relaxing only slightly. “Well, don’t delay on my part, I guess. See you soon?”

“See you,” you said. “I’ll text you when I’m about ten minutes away. If you could warm up the leftovers in the fridge, I’d appreciate it. I’m a little hungry.”

“Of course,” he said. “Bye!”

“Bye,” you said. Once, he would’ve pressed a kiss to your cheek, or maybe even to your lips, but now, he only waved at you before bounding back up the stairs, calling out some excuse about folding his laundry over his shoulder. You watched him go for a moment, wishing you could chase after him and demand he love you again, demand he love you the way he used to, but it would be pointless. You were unconvinced that things would ever be that way again.

One of the lights in the store near your house was broken. It would flicker back to life periodically, struggling to stay lit, but its attempts were stuttered and pitifully in vain. It worsened the migraine building behind your temples, and you narrowed your eyes as you reached the laundry aisle and picked up the cheapest, smallest bottle of detergent you could find.

“You should get that light fixed,” you said to the cashier. He didn’t even look like he was out of high school yet, and as he scanned the bottle, he muttered something about how you should’ve just used the self-checkout line instead.

“I’ll tell my manager,” he said when it became clear that you were waiting for a response. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” you said, tapping it against the screen and signing your name with the attached stylus. “I don’t need a bag.”

“Have a nice day,” he said robotically, mechanically. “Next!”

The woman behind you, who was juggling a screaming baby, a whining child, and a week’s worth of groceries, began to try and empty her cart, but her child kept tugging at her arms and her baby kept crying and she kept dropping things, so it was altogether a pointless effort. The cashier let out an aggravated sigh, barely even sparing you a nod as you tucked the detergent in your pocket.

You furrowed your brow as you watched the woman, wondering if that was to be your future. Once you married Ryosuke, once you became Mrs. Kira, then wouldn’t children be the natural next step? Certainly, that’s what your parents would say.

“Hey,” you said to the child, tapping her on the head as she pulled on her mother’s sleeve once more. Upon feeling your touch against her hair, she froze, looking up at you with wide eyes. “I really like your hairstyle. Did you do it yourself?”

Her hair had been tied into two pigtails and then messily plaited, small pink bows decorating the end of each braid and matching her shirt. She peered at you owlishly, confused enough to quiet down for a moment. Her mother shot you a grateful look as her one hand was freed so that she could start to actually deal with her groceries.

“My mommy did it,” the girl said, stumbling over her words. “For school.”

“It’s very smart,” you said. “I bet everyone in your class was jealous.”

The girl thought about this before nodding. “Yeah, they were.”

“I’m glad I finished school already,” you said, pretending to shiver. “If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have known what to do if you showed up looking like that!”

“Did your mommy not do your hair for you?” the girl said. You thought back to your own mother, your own days at school, and then you shook your head.

“She tried,” you said. “But no matter how elaborate the hairstyles she gave me were, they could never measure up to what you have right now.”

“Why not?” she said.

“Because,” you said. “I think your mother worked really hard on them, and that’s the most important thing. You should remember to say thank you to her when you can.”

“I always say please and thank you,” she said proudly, beaming at you, her two front teeth missing. “Mommy says it’s good manners.”

“Those are very good manners,” you agreed. “Now, it looks like your mother’s done with checking out. Let’s go to the car with her, alright?”

The girl nodded and darted ahead to grab her mother’s hand. Her mother sighed, going to free her hand from her daughter’s grip, but you stopped her.

“I’ve got it,” you said, picking up her grocery bags in both hands and nodding at the door. “Which way is your car? I’ll walk you there.”

“Oh, you — you don’t have to!” she said, fumbling in the face of the offer. “I can do it.”

“I don’t doubt you can,” you said. “But you shouldn’t have to. I’ll follow after you.”

Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision for the woman to trust a stranger, but there was a sort of bone-deep exhaustion burrowing into her that must’ve made her accept the offer. So she only nodded at you and began to stride towards her car, unlocking it and opening the trunk so that you could put the groceries in it while she buckled her children into their respective car seats.

When she was distracted, you snuck the laundry detergent into one of the bags. It wasn’t as if you needed it; you had just gotten some the other day, and that had been the brand you preferred, too. The entire outing had just been an excuse for you to leave the house for enough time that Ryosuke’s new girl of the week could sneak out, as if she had never been there in the first place.

“Thank you so much for your help,” she said when you pressed the button to shut the trunk, stepping back and watching it slowly lower. “Er, what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you said, offering her your hand. She accepted it, shaking it so furiously it was a wonder your arm did not fly off.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. They’re so exhausting to bring along, but I have no other choice. I know it must be so irritating to the other shoppers, but…” she trailed off in defeat, her head hanging low. “I really do have no other choice. My husband’s always busy, and we can’t quite afford a babysitter or a nanny or anything like that, so they’re always with me.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “You have the right to be there, too. I hope you can always find help when you need it.”

“Thank you,” she said again. “You, too.”

“Thanks!” you said, waving at her as you made your way to your own car, only allowing your smile to drop once you were far enough that she wouldn’t notice the way it had disappeared.

You spent the drive to Chigiri’s in silence, muting the radio and amusing yourself with watching the street lamps turn on as it grew progressively darker out, their orange glows piercing through the misty night like cheerful planets, so at odds with your glum mood.

Wouldn’t Ryosuke be like that? Because of that one chance encounter, you could envision your future so clearly. It would be exactly the life that that woman led. You would have those children that he and your parents had always wanted, and you would care for them, and all the while, he would run around and sleep with any girl he could get into his bed, his existence entirely unaffected even as yours had been wrecked.

“So,” Chigiri said, stirring a spoonful of honey into the tea he had prepared for himself, his right leg extended on the coffee table before him. “When’s your wedding with that peacock bastard, anyways?”

You took a sip of the tea he had so graciously made for you before responding, taking the moment to mull over what you’d say as the liquid scalded your tongue.

“Lately, it seems like that’s all anyone ever asks me,” you said.

“It’s a pretty typical question to ask someone who’s engaged,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said. “Well, I don’t know when it is. We haven’t picked a date or made any concrete plans yet.”

“Geez, what was the point of proposing, then?” he said.

“You’ll be the first to hear when it happens,” you said.

“Really? Not Reo?” he said. You considered this.

“The second to hear,” you amended. He pretended to scowl at you, though it was half-heartedly done.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “Though, I guess it does kind of make sense. Nobody hates Kira as much as I do, so you’d probably want to share the news with someone a bit more supportive.”

“It’s about time you let old grudges die,” you said. Chigiri glanced at his right leg before shaking his head.

“No way,” he said. “I’ll never forgive him.”

“It wasn’t even his fault,” you said weakly, though you knew it was just another rendition of the same argument you and he had had so many times before, the same argument that the two of you would probably keep having until you both stopped being friends altogether.

It was bound to happen. There was no way that you could stay friends with Chigiri in any way that lasted. Not as you were currently. Not as who you would soon become. That kind of person didn’t deserve to be friends with someone like Chigiri, who was always so bright and gentle, who even now was frowning slightly because of you.

“Whatever,” he said. “I won’t bring it up at your wedding. That’s the best I can give you.”

You thought that you should probably smile or thank him, but the thought of your impending wedding caused a lump to form in your throat, and it was all you could do to swallow it back without tears forming in your eyes. You gulped down the tea, hissing when it burnt your mouth, glad for the tears which sprang to your eyes and disguised the moment of weakness.

“Sorry,” you said to Chigiri, who only snorted and handed you a napkin to dab at your lips with. “Speaking of which, do you think you’d be okay with wearing a dress and being one of my bridesmaids? I’m woefully lacking in the department.”

“No,” Chigiri said. “Please, make some friends. It’ll actually be embarrassing if you have no one on your side of the wedding.”

“Sorry, but some of us had better things to do in high school than socializing,” you said, tossing a pillow at him. He caught it in one hand and glared at you before chucking it back, full-force. It landed at your side, narrowly avoiding smashing into your face, and then it was your turn to glare at him.

“For your information, I also had better things to do, but somehow, I made time to get to know people,” he said.

“Oh, yeah? Name three of your friends,” you said. He opened his mouth, but you stopped him before he could speak. “Not me, not Reo, and not May.”

He closed his mouth. “Okay, you got me there. Maybe I was more focused on soccer than I realized…”

“Maybe,” you said, though your tea suddenly tasted sour at the mention of soccer.

“I’ll wear a dress if you’ll wear a suit and draw on a mustache at my wedding,” he offered.

“Um, no,” you said.

“Then I guess we’ll both be embarrassed,” he said.

“That’s even assuming you find someone you like enough to propose to, and that that person says yes,” you said.

“I will!” he said. “Just you wait. I’ll make you eat your words!”

“Whatever you say,” you said. “I still think you’re going to die alone, by the way.”

“Better than living with that excuse for a man that you plan on marrying,” he said.

Just like everything else regarding your relationship with Ryosuke, your protests were false and weak. You didn’t mean them. In fact, you even agreed with Chigiri, but if you didn’t speak up, then who would? If you didn’t say something, then all of the time you had spent with him would’ve been a waste. Everything would’ve been a waste, and that was something you could not allow.

“I’m back!” you called out as you re-entered the house, though you knew that even Ryosuke wasn’t foolish enough to risk being caught when he had had so many advance warnings and so much time to prepare for your arrival.

“There she is!” he said, grinning up at you from the dining table, not even a guilty twinge to his words as he spoke — not that you had been expecting any. “Your food’s on the counter, babe.”

“Looks good,” you said, picking up the plate and sitting across from him, picking at the pasta with a fork, pushing it around without lifting any, unable to bring yourself to actually eat it. “You didn’t have to cook, though. There was stuff in the fridge.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said. “Can’t I do nice things for my favorite girl every now and then?”

You knew what that clever wordplay implied. His favorite girl, but not his only. You supposed he must’ve been proud of it, of that private joke made for an audience of exactly one.

“I guess there’s no reason why you can’t,” you said. “It’s good.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Now, listen, I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” you said, preparing yourself for him to say that he wanted to move again or that he wanted to get rid of your cat or something equally as preposterous, as he often did when he started his sentence off with that particular phrase. “And what about?”

“We’ve been engaged for a while,” he said.

“Yes,” you said cautiously, internally cursing Chigiri, believing that he must’ve spoken this entire conversation into existence with his playful inquiries from earlier.

“So we should probably pick a date for the wedding and start preparing for it and all, don’t you think?” he said.

No, you wanted to scream at him. No, I don’t think so. I don’t want to. Nothing has to change. Don’t let it change.

You were saved from having to answer by your cell phone ringing. Without apologizing, you picked up, because there were very few people who would ever call you, and almost all of them were more important than Ryosuke.

“Y/N L/N,” a familiar voice said. Every bit of despair which had crept over you vanished in an instant at that sound, and this time when you smiled, it wasn’t forced.

“Reo!” you said. Ryosuke frowned, but you ignored him. “How late is it over there?”

“It’s early, actually, but it’s okay. I was waking up to go to the gym, anyways, and I figured I’d call you while I’m at it,” he said.

“That makes sense. What’s up?” you said.

“Can’t I just have called you because I miss you so much?” he said.

“You could have, but you wouldn’t,” you said. “What’s the real reason?”

“You’re annoying,” he said.

“Mhm,” you said.

“Fine, yes, I was calling you for a reason, but I do also miss you a lot, so don’t think I don’t!” he said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said.

“You know how I proposed to May a couple of years ago?” he said.

“I was there,” you reminded him. “And by the way, you’re lucky I was! The whole reason I went to college abroad was so that I had an excuse to never return to that place, so for you to go back and live there has really been inconvenient.”

“I can’t help that this is where our corporation’s headquarters are,” he said awkwardly. “I kind of have to live here.” You scoffed.

“Whatever. I’m not going to visit again, so if that’s what you’re calling about, then you might as well hang up,” you said.

“Seriously? Nothing can convince you to come?” he said, letting out a chuckle, the cocksure one he had inherited from his father. It was the one thing you hated most about him, but he had never managed to break the habit, no matter how many times you pointed it out.

“Nope,” you said. “Nothing.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ryosuke said. You waved him off dismissively, mouthing tell you later at him when he pouted grumpily.

“Not even your own best friend’s wedding?” he pressed. You paused, taken aback by the sudden turn.

“What?” you squealed. “Like, an official wedding? You have the day picked out and all?”

“Calm down, woman, it’s not that serious,” he said. You could hear his wince through the phone, but you were too excited to care.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you said.

“So, funny thing, that’s actually what I’m doing right now,” he said. You clicked your tongue.

“Shut up,” you said. “I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. It feels like just yesterday I was introducing the two of you.”

“I know,” he said fondly. “We’ve been arguing the whole time about whose side of the wedding party you’ll be on. At the moment, I think I’m winning, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

“You guys just assumed I would come?” you said.

“Will you not?” he said. You glanced at Ryosuke, who raised his eyebrows at you.

“Give me a second,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” he said. You put the phone on mute and set it on the table.

“Reo and May are getting married,” you said. “Soon. They want me to come.”

“Of course they would. You’re best friends with both of them,” Ryosuke said. You waited for him to reassure you, to tell you that he knew it would be hard for you to go back to your hometown but that the two of you could get through it together. However, he didn’t. You weren’t even sure why you had waited in the first place. You had known that he wasn’t that person anymore for a very long time now. Maybe it was just an old habit that you couldn’t let die quite yet. Maybe you would always be waiting for him.

“I should go, then,” you said.

“Obviously,” he said. “And I’ll come this time.”

“Naturally,” you said, because it would raise too many questions if you didn’t bring your fiancé to your best friend’s wedding. It had been bad enough when he hadn’t come with you the last time, but you had managed to soothe everyone’s concerns with stories about work being too much, how he would’ve loved to visit but had such a strict boss that he just couldn’t.

As per usual, those had all been lies. You had been the one to demand he stay back. You didn’t tell him the reason, because it hardly made sense to you, but the truth was that the thought of Ryosuke walking through the streets that had once belonged to someone else was counterintuitive. Wrong. Those steps were not his to make. That secret was not his to tarnish.

“What’s the verdict?” Reo said when you unmuted the phone and held it back up to your ear. Ryosuke leaned over and gathered your dishes, taking them with his own and turning on the sink, running them under the water, drowning out the sound of your voice.

“Don’t ask that as if you don’t know the answer, idiot,” you said. “It seems you got lucky once again. I’ll be there, and so will Ryosuke.”

Reo choked audibly. “Ryosuke? Do you mean Kira?”

“We’ve been engaged longer than you and May have. Don’t you think it would be a little weird if I still called him by his surname?” you said.

“That’s true. I was just surprised you’re still with him, but I shouldn’t have been. Sorry,” he said. “Is he going to be your plus one?”

“Again, he is my fiancé,” you said, glancing over to where he was humming to himself as he scrubbed the sauce off of the plates. Your heart panged at the sight. Sometimes, you thought that you were being unfair to him. You would hate and hate him, and then he would do something that would remind you why you had ever loved him in the first place. “Who else would I bring?”

“I don’t know, Chigiri?” he said. “You talk about him way more than you do Kira.”

“He’s my friend,” you said. “I just spend more time with him.”

“Hey, it’s not my business. If you want to have an affair, then that’s your prerogative. Although, given the history between those two, Chigiri might not be the best choice…” he said.

“You suck,” you said as he burst into laughter.

“Kidding, kidding. Anyways, May beat me to inviting Chigiri, so he couldn’t be your plus one regardless, since he’s a traitor,” he said.

“Who says I won’t decide to be on May’s side after all?” you said. “She’d probably make me her maid of honor.”

“Uh,” Reo said. “If that’s the case, then you should definitely be on my side.”

“Why is that?” you said.

“I mean, you know how the maid of honor and the best man usually spend a lot of time together?” he said nervously.

“Sure,” you said, although you really didn’t, considering you hadn’t been invited to very many weddings before, and certainly none where you had been the maid of honor.

“Well, there’s no gentle way to put this,” he said.

“Just spit it out,” you said.

“Um, just know that I really love you a lot,” he said. “But I already picked my best man.”

“How is that something you’d need to put gently? Considering my lack of ‘man’ qualifications, I wasn’t exactly expecting to get the role,” you said.

“It’s Nagi.”

Unbidden, your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but your initial burst of shock quickly settled, and you realized it made enough sense that you shouldn’t really question it. “Okay.”

“I know you guys didn’t get along in high school and all, but he was the only one I could think of,” Reo said.

“Okay,” you said.

“But you’re my best friend, too, and don’t you dare forget that!” he continued.

“Reo,” you said, but he was too busy rambling to notice.

“Just please get along with him. For my sake! And May’s, if you decide to be her maid of honor,” he said.

“Reo,” you tried again.

“You don’t even have to be friends! Just mutually ignore one another or something, it’ll go much smoother that way. Or, well, if you’re the maid of honor and he’s the best man, I guess you can’t really ignore one another, so that’s a dilemma…wait, I know! You can treat him like he’s just one of your coworkers—”

“Reo!” you said, finally growing frustrated enough to cut him off. “It’s okay. High school was years ago. Neither of us is going to let the past impact the present, I’m sure. You have more important things to be stressing out about; this shouldn’t even be on your list of worries, man. You’re getting married!”

“You promise?” he said.

“Promise,” you said.

“I’m serious. I don’t want any fights or anything. Whatever hatred you had for him, put it behind you,” he said.

“I did that already,” you said. “Many years past. I’m not a teenage girl anymore. People from back then don’t bother me.”

“Not even your parents?” he said.

“Low blow, Mr. Mikage,” you said. But of course, he didn’t even know the half of it, so how could you blame him for what he had surely believed to be a harmless joke? “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to them in a while, either.”

“Have they even met Kira yet?” he said.

“No,” you said.

“Great, then you can introduce him to them! It’ll be a double-win type of trip,” he said.

“Right,” you said. He sounded so happy that you couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, that the thought of introducing Ryosuke to your parents was actually akin to torture. Besides, what would he do if you did tell him? It was something he could never comprehend.

“Now I can’t wait!” he said.

“Me, either,” you said. “And Reo?”

“Yes?”

“Tell May I’m choosing her side,” you said.

“What? You seriously want to risk possibly being the maid of honor, even after everything I told you?” he said.

You thought about what the role might entail. Who the role might entail. And then you looked over at Ryosuke, who was putting the leftover pasta back in the fridge. He locked eyes with you and then jokingly scrunched his nose. You thought you might’ve found it endearing when you had first met him.

“Yeah,” you said. “I do.”

#nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #peregrine #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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bigdumbbambieyes · 5 months

Text

It's been almost a year and Billy still aches.

It's not constant, but when it's there, it's there.

And it's worse when he runs into Steve, in public, and Billy sees his new boyfriend with him.

He'd moved to Chicago with Steve after graduation, when they had been inseparable. They'd been desperate to leave Hawkins and after finding a two-bedroom apartment, they'd packed up and left.

And once the trauma of the Upside Down had begun to settle, they felt...different. They fought more. They didn't fit. And they had begun to wonder if they ever had.

They say the breakup was mutual, but they know it wasn't. Not when Billy's been unable to move on and Steve's found happiness elsewhere.

Billy can't blame him, though. He's so fucked up, he's surprised Steve didn't leave sooner.

But, those big doe eyes suddenly meet his across the department store where they're shopping for Christmas and Billy immediately looks away, like a coward.

Because that's what he's always been, a fucking coward.

He glances again, sees Steve tell his boyfriend something before making his way over and Billy's stomach sinks.

No, not today, please.

"Hey," Steve whispers as he saddles up beside Billy, and when he glances over at him, he sees that familiar small, warm smile and it rips his heart right out of his chest.

"Hi," he mutters, glancing down at the gift set he'd been eyeing for Max.

"That for Max?" Steve asks, his voice light, knowing.

Billy shakes his head 'no' and turns away from it, looking at Steve again. He eyes him for a second before glancing over his shoulder, catching the new guy watching them. As if Billy would try anything.

"You going back to Hawkins for Christmas, too?" Steve asks, tilting his head, getting Billy's attention back so effortlessly.

Too.

"He going with you?" Billy asks, unable to help himself.

Steve's face twists a little, like maybe he's thinking of lying, but he doesn't. He can't. "Yeah."

Billy liked the Harringtons. They had liked him. He wonders how they'll like the new guy.

"You should stop by, on Christmas Day," Steve smiles weakly. He knows how shitty Christmas is to Billy - how shitty his father is to him.

But, the thought of going to the Harrington house on Christmas Day as Steve's ex, where he'd spent the last three Christmases, makes spending Christmas at the Hargrove house sound just a little better.

Which is fucking sad.

Because it should be him going home to Hawkins with Steve, it should be him shopping for Christmas presents with Steve, not...him. Whatever his name is, Billy can't remember. Doesn't want to.

And despite how fucking sad everything is, Billy can't help but to flick his gaze down to Steve's jacket--

His jacket. Billy's. The brown leather one he's been missing.

He should demand it back. Strip it off Steve's body, make him apologize for taking what isn't his.

But, he doesn't. Instead, with his eyes on the leather, he asks quietly, "What does he have that I didn't?"

There's a brief silence, the people walking around them chatting and laughing and passing by, before Steve says, "He talks to me. Opens up. He makes me feel wanted. I never have to guess what he's feeling. He soothes my worries. He loves me the way I want to be loved."

So, everything.

His eyes burn as he flicks them back up to Steve, sees the sorry expression there. Billy knows he looks like shit. He's been going through a lot and it reflects on his face.

He's tried to forgive himself for how things ended between them, how he had lacked what Steve needed. Needs. And he couldn't fix himself fast enough, couldn't recover what he'd lost, so now he's here: watching the love of his life shop with another man.

It hurts more because he had been Steve's first everything with a guy. He had expected Steve to go back to some woman, some girl who could give him a family like he wanted. He wasn't supposed to kiss another man, hold his hand, love him.

That was supposed to be Billy's to cherish for the rest of his life, because after Steve, who was he supposed to love? It seems impossible now, to love another, when he still has so much to give the pretty boy in front of him.

Steve's mouth twitches, like it used to when he was nervous, and he mutters, "I'm sorry, Billy...but, it's the truth."

And the truth always hurts.

He gives Steve an empty smile, "I'm happy for you."

"No, you're not," Steve huffs wryly.

"Then let's just pretend I am," Billy mutters.

Another brief silence, their eyes meeting in the busy store, and Billy knows this is it. This is what they are.

Steve manages another small smile and nods, "Okay. We can pretend."

Billy will pretend for the rest of his life, then. If Steve's happy, that's all that matters.

He just wishes it was with him.

Nodding, and swallowing thickly, Billy manages the courage to mutter, "Merry Christmas, Steve."

"Merry Christmas, Billy," Steve whispers, no longer smiling and his brown eyes sad.

Billy turns and walks away with tears burning in his eyes, knowing Steve still holds his beating heart in his hands and always will.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #this is specifically for all of my angst lovers out there #angst #tw angst #like it’s not a nice ending #bambiwrites

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sinsandsweetness · 8 months

Note

i have stepdad!rick brainrot rn, i’d love one where he punishes the reader for being out past curfew, rick sitting by the door watching another boy drop her off

i’m so excited to see where you go with this omg <33

cw- stepdad!rick, dub con? kinda toxic tbh but… it’s fictional so… all for funsies <3 oh and um… not proofread (is it ever anymore?)

The porch light is on and you know you’re screwed. Walking up the creaky steps to the front door and gently turning the handle. Your stepdads figure, standing at the counter sorting some papers. He glances over at the sound of the door latching behind you.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” His gaze goes back to the stack of papers he’s sorting.

You place your bag on the stool next to him and go for the fridge. Grabbing a glass of water and taking a sip before answering.

“We lost track of time, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s 1 in the morning. Curfew is 11.”

“I’m an adult. I don’t have a curfew that’s ridiculous.” You almost laugh.

“You live under my roof don’t you?”

He’s fully focused on you now. Standing there. No papers in hand.

You want to scowl back. But you’re already in trouble. And being a brat won’t help your situation. Not when Rick is already coming in at you. Backing you into the corner cabinet. Your ass hitting the cool marble as he approaches. Cornered.

“Answer.” He demands. Annoyed. No. Angry.

“Yes. I do.” You day through a clenched teeth. He’s still in his work clothes. The police uniform that Deanna gave him way back when they first arrived here. When he first met your mom. When he first took notice of you.

“Who were you with?”

“A friend.”

He breaths out what you assume is a laugh. An unimpressed huff of air and the smallest hint of a smirk pulling at his lips.

“A friend, hm. Don’t know many friends that touch eachother like that.”

He must have seen you. Watched the boy drop you off from his spot on his chair under the living room window. Watched you kiss the boy goodbye after he opened the car door for you. No doubt catching the way his hand grabbed your ass when he pulled you in for another.

Though Rick seems exceptionally calm if he had seen.

“I’m sorry.” It’s not sincere. And Rick can hear it too.

“About the boy? Or about being out past curfew. Curfew that’s been set in place for all of Alexandria by the way. Not just you.”

“Since when?” This is news to you.

“Since one of your friends fucked up and got three of our people killed.”

There was an incident. A recent one. Only a few days ago actually. Some pretty heavy drinking was involved. Shitty decisions were made and it cost the community three precious lives. An open gate in this world will do that.

“I didn’t realize. No one told me.” You’re telling the truth. He must sense it because his jaw relaxes slightly.

But he moves in even closer. If that was possible. You feel trapped. A heavy weight pulling you further into the counter space between his hands. Ricks strong arms framing your entrapment.

“You missed the meeting,” he leans in, though it doesn’t feel particularly intimate. More intimidating than anything. “I wondered why that was. Wouldn’t have to do with some… friend would it?”

You shake your head. Your heartbeat is off the walls and you want him to close the gap between you so desperately. You want him to bend his own house rules and make a fucking mess out of you right here on the counter. Right here in the kitchen where your mother could walk in at any moment.

Right where he refuses to touch you out of his own moral agenda. Outside it didn’t matter. But in this house, touching you was rare.

He’s so close it hurts. His nose almost brushing your cheek. The stubble on his jaw scratches your cheek as he moves to whisper in your ear. Lips so warm against your ear. Brushing the gold metal hanging from your lobe.

“I don’t believe you.”

His voice is quiet. Soft and deep. But It makes you shiver as if he’s just yelled at you.

“I-I…“

“Shhh,” he cuts you off. He’s smirking against your cheek. Though nothing about his demeanour is funny. You’re in trouble. That’s all you know.

“You broke the rules. And you lied to me-“

“I’m sorry-“

“Sweetheart, if you interrupt me one more time, your ass is gonna be sore for a week.”

You gulp. Fuck. Ok.

“You’re not getting away with just a slap on the wrist this time. Not tonight, baby.”

He kisses your lips. Gentle and warm. And you’re more than eager to kiss him back. To make it up to him. Anything. Everything. All for him.

It’s not like the boy from outside means anything. He’s nothing compared to the man you live with. The one that sleeps down the hall from you every night. Tempting you with just the smell of his skin and the blue in his eyes.

Your arms wrap around his neck to pull him in close.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper against his mouth between kisses. Muffled and faded into the moans that can’t seem to stay put.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it this time, sweetheart.”

You tug on his hair. Hoping he’ll just let you give him your body as a form of repentance. But it won’t be enough. He needs to punish you himself. To show you some real discipline.

“What are you gonna do?” You ask finally, pulling away for a moment. Just for show really. Giving your most innocent doe eyed act in hopes of even a smidge of pity from the officer.

He doesn’t buy it for a second.

He smiles and your heart skips a beat. You know by the look on his face that you’re in for a night. A week. Maybe longer.

You realize quickly that it isn’t a matter of what he was going to do to you. It was a matter of what he would refuse to do to you. No matter how hard you begged.

And judging by the arousal already seeping through your panties, he’d have you begging on your knees in no time.

—

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck @olive3oil @taylormarieee @virtualreader @lust4lovee @fanngirl19 @movidita @cavillsgirl105 @dylanisstilladumbass @dixonslvr @aangelbabysworld @raininhell @gvf23 @iamacowboi @dqllgarden

(lmk if I missed you or if you no longer want to be tagged)

#Rick x reader #stepdad!rick x reader #Rick grimes x reader #Rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #Rick x you #rick x y/n #rick x fem!reader #twd smut #rick grimes smut #stepdad!rick #Rick daydream

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drunk-on-dk · 1 year

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Track 1: Hotel | Choi Seungcheol (m)

Track 1 - Hotel // Montell Fish - playlist linked here

Pairing: Heir!Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader Genre: SMUT (minors DNI), angst? w/c: ~3.1k (some change, barely proofread tbh) Summary: Old Money/Heir!Seungcheol can't help but invite you to his hotel room no matter how dangerous you are for him and his reputation.

Explicit Content - Minors DNI, Listeners 18+, NSFW Warnings Below

content warning: unprotected sex (stay protected pls); oral (male receiving); no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy & wears a dress; degrading name (brat); bratty reader; dom!cheol; big dick!cheol; rough?cheol (pussy slapping, choking, makes the reader crawl); a bit of commentary on shitty businesses for the sake of minimal plot; secret hooking up lmao

a/n: lol this is the beginning of my playlist series and I just got so excited I couldn't wait to post! I hope you all enjoy it! As always, all feedback is appreciated <3

“When I met you in that hotel room

I could tell that you were so bad news

But I keep messing with ya, messing with ya

And now you messing with me, messing with me”

Seungcheol knew you were bad news when he first met you in ECON 101 his first year of university. You had plucked his pen right out of his fingertips with a devilish smirk on your lips and continued to scribble your number down on his hand without a second thought after he had been assigned as your study partner for the semester.

Admittedly, you were very attractive to Seungcheol the moment he laid eyes on you in the lecture hall. However, he soon would find out you both lived very different lifestyles. Seungcheol was the son of a successful tech business tycoon; following in his father’s footsteps and only committing to majoring in business to please the demands of said father. You, on the other hand, were a stubborn, moral driven business major who scoffed upon finding out Seungcheol was next in line for a company that didn’t seem to care about their own employees. You sure gave Seungcheol an earful about his father’s company, in which Seungcheol was already aware of the scandals and fully agreed with all that you said, but he couldn’t admit that to anyone but himself.

Unfortunately for Seungcheol, you were painstakingly intelligent, and he swore he wouldn’t have made it through economics without your consistent help. Honestly, Seungcheol claimed he wouldn’t have made it to graduation without you being by his side for the next years to come.

Both of you resented each other in a way; Seungcheol wished to live a normal life and wished that he had half the wit you did, whilst you were envious Seungcheol blissfully lived his life with ease, not needing to lift a finger to get what he wanted. You turned a blind eye to it though, admitting that Seungcheol was smart and too kind in comparison to his hard exterior, and you believed he’d make a better CEO than his father one day. Maybe you could even keep his head on straight if you stayed by his side long enough.

Even though you were tons of help to Seungcheol in university, you had caused him plenty of problems outside of classes. You became an activist of sorts, using a platform that you had built online to speak out against companies that engaged in immoral acts. One of those companies being Seungcheol’s father’s company, quickly becoming a thorn in his father’s side upon your rapidly gaining popularity.

After university, Seungcheol found you at large business events, usually catching you conversing with important people in the industry, a pretty, stray hair framing your face as you’d scribble notes down in your journal. Later he’d spot you seated in the far corner of whatever gala it was you both were attending, a glass of champagne in hand as your sharp eyes observed the crowd, only softening when you’d spot Seungcheol.

Seungcheol’s father demanded he kept a low profile at these events, and you were a controversial figure. However, it was hard to stay away from you, even when he knew his father hated the impact your words had on his business and would curse him out for ever knowing you. Seungcheol somehow always found a way to chat with you, basking in your snarky comments and rants that you’d sneak in by the bar. You were such a pain in the ass for Seungcheol in many aspects, but he was inevitably drawn to you from the beginning.

Seungcheol knew he was screwed when he started routinely fucking you after these events, typically inviting you up to whatever expensive hotel he was staying in for the night. You’d chuckle condescendingly at the ridiculous penthouse, but Seungcheol knew you didn’t care all that much when your dress would suddenly pool around your feet, stripping for him after just a blink of his eye.

To Seungcheol’s dismay, the first time you two snuck away had been caught by the paparazzi, and it had ended up in a business journal, calling Seungcheol out for flirting practically with the enemy.

Not even the scolding Seungcheol received that day could keep him away from you though; he just had to be smarter from now on. He couldn’t deny you when only you knew exactly how to ease his tension after these events.

Maybe the forbidden aspect is what drew him to you as well, but Seungcheol knew damn well that he loved how much of a brat you were for him. He couldn’t lie that you turned him on every time you tore his father’s business apart, shivers running down his spine as you’d run your mouth to him all the way home, and smirking at the fact you’d even dare to say such a thing in a limo funded by his father’s business. How ironic.

You’d keep going back to him as well, knowing that your relationship with Seungcheol was not practical in the slightest, even if part of you fantasized about a life with him outside of all this business bullshit, but damn, did he give you good dick. It sure did a good job at lessening whatever stress you felt at the end of the night.

It became routine, Seungcheol would invite you to his hotel, you’d scoff at the ritzy interior, and he’d stare you down expectantly from the opposite side of the ridiculously big room.

“Are you going to be a fucking brat tonight, Y/N?” Seungcheol asks, his husky voice sending chills down your spine as you try to keep your cool. “Or will you strip and crawl to me like how I asked?”

“Bite me, Seungcheol,” you spit out, but you can’t stop your fingers from playing with the straps and zipper of your dress.

“You better watch what you ask for.” God, you love the way his voice deepened in tone, coercing you to follow his orders as he watches you with a bushy eyebrow raised expectantly, and throwing his suit jacket on the floor like it was trash.

You refuse to break eye contact with him as you strip down, loving the way his gaze would falter when your dress finally drops to the ground and soaking in the groan that escapes his lips once he notices you have no undergarments on.

Dropping teasingly to the ground, you fall to your hands and knees, continuing to keep your eyes locked on his as you slowly crawl across the room to him. Seungcheol begins to strip himself, pulling his belt off once you’ve made it halfway to him, and finally unbuttoning his pristine white shirt, revealing the fiery skin you’ve touched so many times underneath it.

Ultimately making it to Seungcheol’s feet, his thumb grabs your chin, forcing your gaze back up to his after making eye contact with the obvious bulge in his trousers. Sitting on your knees, you pull his thumb into your mouth, running your tongue around the digit and gliding your hands up his solid thighs.

“Oh,” you coo condescendingly, “did your in-staff pleat these pants for you? I’d hate to ruin the perfect ironing job, Cheol.”

This is what Seungcheol adored about you; loved that you found a way to dig into his lifestyle and had enough courage to call out how he was fed with a silver spoon every day. It’s also what enraged him, unbelieving that you still thought so lowly of him after all these years.

“God,” Seungcheol ran his free hand through his hair, flustered by your boldness and the way you continued to suck at his thumb between your words. “I think this brat needs their mouth stuffed.”

“I didn’t crawl all the way here for nothing,” you pout, pulling away from Seungcheol with a ‘pop,’ and starting to work at his pants button. Finally pulling down both his trousers and underwear, you couldn’t hold back your chuckle after coming face to face with his brooding, leaky tip. “Looks like you need help, Cheol.”

The groan that bubbled from his chest was feral as he grabs at your hair, a large hand pulling it into his grip before he lines his length up to your mouth. “Open.”

You didn’t mess with Seungcheol when he got this demanding, your lack of words being enough to egg him on as your jaw drops slack for him, wet tongue falling out eagerly as you wait for him to stuff your mouth full.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N,” he pouts, cherry-red lips matching your puffy ones while awaiting your final consent before inserting the tip of his head into your expecting mouth.

“Fill me, Cheol, ‘m hungry for your cock,” you mewl, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes as you grant him your final blessing. As much as Seungcheol was a little shit, he sure was respectful as hell, and you couldn’t deny the flutter in your heart every time.

Finally giving in upon your permission, Seungcheol shoves his length past your lips, groaning out in pleasure when his head hits the back of your throat, only gagging around him as it still took you some time to get used to his size and how rough he likes to be.

“Such a fucking pro, Y/N, such a good little brat for me.” It becomes messy so fast, immediately acclimating to Seungcheol as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. Seungcheol becomes entranced with the way drool pools outside of your lips, his pleasure intensifying as you moan around him, tongue working at the underside of his head.

The grip he has on you drives you wild, the heat at your core becoming more prominent as he bucks into your mouth and guides your head as you thoroughly suck him off. When he pulls you off, the only thing that connects you to him was the string of saliva hanging from your swollen lips and his hardened cock.

“Going to finish so soon, Cheol? Did it feel that good?” You pout up at him, a patronizing tone enraging him as he pulls you up to eye level, a strong hand wrapped around your throat before he pulls you into a bruising kiss.

“You need to learn when to shut up, Y/N,” he moans into the kiss, feeling even dizzier when you roll your body against his, the warmth of your skin on his reminding him of how real you are.

“Never,” you refute, smiling against his lips before he begins to nibble down the side of your neck. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I know it all too well,” he chuckles into your neck, sucking tenderly and pulling the delicate skin between his teeth, being sure to leave a mark on you. “Seems like you still need to learn a thing or two.”

You don’t even have a chance to mutter another word before Seungcheol is diving down to your chest, drawing a gasp from you when he pulls your nipple between his teeth, sucking and nibbling harshly at the peak. You almost collapse, but his hold on you is strong enough to keep you flush against his body, a reminder of the hard erection pressed against your lower abdomen.

Finally gaining enough sense to play into Seungcheol’s game, you egg him on even more, “how will you ever teach me anything?”

This is enough to rile Seungcheol up, turning you around and bending you over the armrest of the couch next to you. Falling face first into the plush cushions, you barely have time to process the harsh slap against your pussy, legs nearly giving out as the cool air and remnants of string burn at your core.

“Will this bratty pussy take me well?” It’s Seungcheol’s turn to be arrogant, knowing he has the upper hand as he runs his pointer and middle fingers between your folds, gathering up your slick on his fingers. You know he gets a taste of you, hearing his lips smacking as he hums in approval. “As much as I’d love to get another taste, I think you need to be stuffed full elsewhere to learn a lesson. You don’t deserve my tongue tonight, Y/N.”

“Please,” you’re giving in and begging for him at this point. “Please teach me a lesson, Cheol. I’ve been a bad all night.”

“My brat,” he’s teasing from behind you, your body and inner walls instantly reacting as you feel his tip prod at your core, collecting enough of your wetness before pushing between your folds. The guttural groan he lets out has you pushing back, allowing for him to fill you until his hips encounter your ass and you’re both crooning in satisfaction, “Always know how to take me so well, like the good little thing you are. Not sure there is much of a lesson other than shutting that mouth of yours, which I can do by filling you to the brim.”

Unfortunately, he is absolutely correct, the only words escaping you are incoherent pleas as he begins to drag his cock out of you before shallowly thrusting inside of you again.

Seungcheol’s nails are digging into your hips as he slowly tries to regain his senses, the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is already making him feel delirious. The only vice you have is the velvety fabric of the couch, your nails leaving trail lines in the luxurious fabric as you try to come to and adjust around him.

The pace he sets is immediately brutal, his hips crashing against yours as he begins to thrust in and out of you. The sound of your skin slapping against his is lewd, and a honeyed gasp is pulled from you with each snap of his hips.

You’re clenching so tightly around him he swears he could lose himself in you, a hand slapping against once your ass cheeks in frustration as your walls continue to suck him in so perfectly.

“Feel s’good, Y/N. This bratty pussy always proves to take me so well, how are you so damn tight all the time?”

You’re so breathless with your response that he barely even hears you, but he can’t hide the smirk that graces his features when you admit exactly what he wants to hear, “no one fucks me like you do, Cheol. Only you fill me so well, s’big and s’good.”

“You always know exactly what to say, huh?” He’s pulling you back up by the neck now, fingers wrapping around you like a necklace as he props one of your legs up on the armrest, allowing for better leverage to fuck up into you.

You’re moaning pathetically at this point as he bullies his cock up into you, the friction of his head dragging between your walls so delightful, just like he’s made for you, and his actions arousing you even more. Seungcheol’s lips are all over your skin, leaving trails of saliva down the back of your neck and shoulder, his hot lips sending blissful shivers through your body and coercing your head to fall back into him. His fingers run across your chest, rolling your nipples between the digits as he whispers dirty, sweet nothings into your ear.

Eventually, his fingers make their way down your torso, thick pads meeting your swollen clit and drawing an embarrassingly loud cry from you. Seungcheol continues to thrust up into you, his head contacting your cervix in the most pleasurable way and winding up the hot coil inside of you even more.

It’s devastating how familiar he is with your body at this point, knowing you’re way too fucked out to even refute any of his words, and recognizing the tell-tale sign that you’re close to finishing as your walls pulse uncontrollably around him, legs weakening but he holds your entire body weight up with ease.

“Does my brat deserve to finish?” It’s so annoying the way he bites at your ear when he edges you closer and closer to your release, thumb circling your clit in a tantalizing motion and intensifying the heat burning in your core.

“I don’t know,” you bite back a moan, sick of the games he’s playing at this point and rolling your hips back to meet each of his thrusts. Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle as you try your best to talk back, “you tell me, Cheol? Did I do well?”

“You did so well until now,” he lets out a breathy sigh, pulling his fingers away from your throbbing clit, but it becomes a strained groan as you clamp down even tighter around his length.

Pathetically, you fall back down onto the couch, your own hips chasing his motions, grinding back into him all before you’re just about slamming your ass against him with each buck of his hips.

“Fuck,” he’s moaning out, calloused hands palming your ass and meeting you with each thrust, watching where he connects with you as his cock disappears into your pussy with each desperate plunge back into you. “I take it back, you did so well. So, so, so well.”

With that final praise, you’re falling apart on his cock, walls clamping down on him like a vice and trembling and crying from beneath him, muscles shaking as you feel your arousal shatter within you. Seungcheol is following suit, unable to hold himself back when you feel this good around him, letting rope after rope of his cum fill you just how you like it.

Seungcheol falls against your body, pounding chest meeting your back while he shallowly thrusts his hips into yours, milking the rest of both your orgasms and memorizing the whimpers that come from you as you begin to feel overstimulated.

Seungcheol’s a gentleman of course, treating you to a nice, hot bath in the jacuzzi sized large enough to fit an entire group, and tucking you into the silk sheets of the pretentious hotel. Even after this luxury treatment, Seungcheol can’t avoid the snarky comments you mumble before you drift off to sleep, which is so damn endearing that he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

Admittedly, it’s always disappointing when he wakes up the next morning and you aren’t there, even if Seungcheol knows it’s for the best. The note you leave with a water bottle and medication for his hangover is always enough to keep him hooked, your pretty handwriting reminding him to leave a good tip for the staff, a kiss mark of your lipstick as a signature and reminder of you.

God, you were bad news for him, but he’ll keep you around as long as he can. Even if that means just inviting you up to these damn hotel rooms for now.

#svthub #seventeen smut #svt smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #choi seungcheol smut

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white-wolf-buckaroo · 4 months

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Chapter 1: Percy becomes supreme lord of the Bathroom

First official chapter for 'In his own twisted way', my daughter of ares fic! <3

Word count: 8800 ish words

Warnings: none I can think of (english is not my first language, though, don't kill me if there are any mistakes please)

Updates will be tuesdays! <3

Fic masterlist here!

Olympians. The Gods and Goddesses of Ancient Greece, powerful, strong, eternal, immortals, seen as myths and stories told throughout the centuries. However, they are no myths, but real, and they still exist to the date. Omnipotent. Immortal. Unreachable.

Or, maybe not so out of reach: they’ve watched generations of mortals roaming the earth, and they often walk among them, disguised as one of them. But still, gods and goddesses, strong and powerful, and a different race from the common humans. They have lived thousands of lives, interfering at will in mortal affairs, seeing the world as their battlefield, and the people living there as their pawns. Because the gods can’t break the holy rules, but mortals… that’s a loophole many, if not all of the gods and goddesses have used in their favour throughout history. And because they needed powerful weapons as their pawns to execute their demands, they created half-bloods. Demigods. Mortal descendants born out of their union with a mortal companion, capable of fighting in the divine realm of existence, while living in the mortal world.

And so, over the years, decades, and centuries, demigods were born into the mortal world, some even reaching Olympus, the glory, kleos, and becoming part of the mystery that surrounds the story of the gods.

Myths aside, half-bloods still exist. Half mortal, half god, all real. And even if it sounds like a privilege to be a part of the gods bloodline… well, not many demigods will agree with that. Not only because they are in constant danger, it’s scary, and most of the times it only got them killed in very nasty ways, but also because they didn’t really fit into the human world, and they had to live up to their parents expectations, all the time. To make them proud, to honour them, and to show off their power.

And all of that is pretty difficult to do when the gods turn out to be shitty parents who don’t really deserve all that self-sacrifice.

Emily wasn’t indifferent to all of that.

As one of camps’ longest all year-rounders, she was well versed in the art of being the child of an absent godly parent. She trained, she learned, and she fought for glory, yes, but most importantly, to be worthy of her father’s attention and love. At twelve years old, she was one of the best fighters of her cabin: the children of Ares. Only her older sister, Clarisse, reached her level of skill; they fought on many occasions, both in the arena and outside of it, always to prove that they were better than the other one.

But Emily didn’t really care about being better than Clarisse, not really. She only trained, and fought and worked so hard to be the top warrior of her cabin, if not camp, to make her father proud. And she hoped that, if she would actually make him proud, she would finally see him again.

Not that she hadn’t seen him since he had left her at camp half-blood, no. Every winter, during the winter solstice ceremony, she encountered him. But he kept to himself, every single time for the last years. He didn’t acknowledge her or any of her siblings, and when the presentations were over, he always ran out of the room before she or her brothers or sisters could try to talk to him.

That’s why she had hope that if she stood out, maybe he would love her again like he did in the past.

“Are you listening to me, or are you daydreaming again?”

Emily turned her gaze to her left, where Annabeth was looking over at her questioningly. They were laying on the grass in a clearing of the forest, the afternoon light giving a golden glow to the top of the trees surrounding them. They were done with training for that day, having had a friendly competition about who of them both would hit more bullseyes at archery practice; Emily won, like she usually did, although Annabeth was also very skilled – Ares’ kids usually had a better aim for throwing weapons, or something like that. It’s what Annabeth always said when Emily ended up with a higher score than her.

“I am listening to you” Emily shifted her gaze back up to the sky, watching a round and fluffy cloud fly by “But I was also thinking about dinner. I can do both”

“Sure. So what was I talking about?”

“Something boring about an architect you read a book about”

“That was five minutes ago!” Annabeth laughed, shaking her head “And it’s not boring”

“Why do you think I started daydreaming? To not fall asleep!”

“You’re incorrigible” she huffed, although she was also smiling slightly.

“But I’m still your best friend, so I must be doing something right”

“I guess” Annabeth shrugged, sticking her tongue out to Emily. They both giggled “I was talking about capture the flag”

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous” Emily scoffed, looking at her “You’ve won three times in a row. You’ll manage a fourth”

“No one has won four consecutive rounds in a very long time. Everyone is waiting to watch me fail”

“That’s not true. I want to see you succeed”

“Shouldn’t you be on your teams side?” she raised one of her eyebrows, sarcastically. Annabeth fought with the rest of the Athena cabin, and Emily with the Ares cabin. The other cabins allied to one or another of them, but the main rivals in battle where always Ares and Athena – seemed logic, considering they were both deities of war “Don’t tell me you’ll just give me your flag. I don’t want an easy win”

“Of course I won’t do that. I will fight, tooth and claw, to get my victory. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t be happy if you win. You deserve it”

“Thanks, Emi”

“You welcome, Annie”

“Now… as I was saying a few minutes ago-“ she started talking about the architect again, and Emily groaned, sitting up “Hey, I’m trying to educate you. Better listen”

She wasn’t going to do that, not today. Fortunately, she found her escape: Luke was approaching the clearing where they lay, and he waved at her when he spotted Emily watching him.

He had arrived at camp with Annabeth five years ago, when Emily was seven. He was older than the girls, and he was like an older brother for the both of them; sure, they had their respective siblings at each of their cabins (Ares’, Athena’s and Hermes’), but the bond these three shared was genuine, and went beyond their heritage.

“It’s almost time for dinner!” he called out, a few steps away “Come on!”

They rose up, and met Luke halfway there. All three of them wore camps’ official orange t-shirt, like everyone else, and their summer camp necklace’s rested above the fabric, with the beads they earned at the end of each summer adding various pops of colour. However, they didn’t have identical pendants: Luke had five beads, like Annabeth, but she also had added her father’s college ring to the necklace after he sent it to her. Emily’s had not five, but six beads, and also a silver ring.

Ares had given it to her… a long time ago. When things had still been better between them.

“How’s my favourite duo doing?” although the three of them usually hang out together, there was always a duo in a trio “Heard you had fun at archery”

“I did. Annabeth not so much” Emily grinned at her friend, who rolled her eyes “Hey, let me have my win. If I competed against anyone from cabin seven I wouldn’t stand a chance”

They greeted some satyrs on their way to the dining area, and then separated to their respective tables: there were strict rules against sitting at another god’s table, so they were forced to eat with their siblings. Emily had a good relationship with most of her brothers and sisters, at least a cordial one; none of them were as close to her as Annabeth or Luke were, but they got along nicely. Then there were others, those of her siblings who stood more to Clarisse, her rival, who weren’t as nice to Emily. She wasn’t naturally prone to being mean to anyone, even if they weren’t friendly towards her, but after years of constant disrespect, Emily had had enough, and they knew that she could set her foot down if they caused her too much trouble.

Dinner went as usual, with camp being full of demigods, so the pavilion was bustling with voices and conversations, even if there were tables unoccupied, like the one’s for the children of the big three (who weren’t allowed to have children anymore, as they were too powerful), or the one dedicated to Artemis (which was only used by the goddess’ hunters if they ever visited camp… which usually never happened).

Chiron was also back at camp after being absent for some weeks at the end of the school year; Annabeth and Emily had been theorizing about the reasons for his departure, as he had never left camp for so long in the years they had been there.

“Do you think some demigod got into trouble on a quest and he has went out to help?”

“Well, maybe… but it has to be something important if Chiron himself had to go. He never leaves camp; he’s almost like… part of the décor or something”

“What if he left because… the quest he’s promising me is arriving?”

“You mean the one he’s been promising you for years? The one fated to a new demigod we haven’t even met yet?” Emily knew of her best friend’s aspirations, of her dreams. Annabeth was one of the strongest warriors at camp half-blood, head counselor at her cabin, and one of the smartest persons she knew. The only way left to prove herself, was to go on a quest, but Chiron had never allowed her to. She would only be able to when, according to the centaur, a demigod arrived who was fated to go on a quest not even Chiron could prevent – Annabeth had received that information under strict confidentiality, so of course only she and her best friends knew of it.

“Well, it could be. It’s been five years. How much longer can it take?”

“Keep studying the newbies, then. Maybe one of them will be the one”

But none of the new half-bloods at camp that summer seemed to be… something special – not that being literally children of Greek gods didn’t make them special. They just weren’t what Annabeth was waiting for.

That is, until one day, or specifically, one night, a new demigod made it to Long Island.

When Emily went to bed that evening, she didn’t expect to be woken up by a commotion before sunrise; it had been raining during the night, although it didn’t rain directly at camp because of the special weather conditions they had there, with the faint sound of water droplets echoed inside the cabins, almost soothing, until another sound joined its melody: frantic screaming, that came from someone running down the hill that led to Thalia’s tree.

Emily and her siblings made their way out of their cabin, like everyone else did, curious to know what had happened, and they saw Grover, dressed in a human attire, completely drenched from head to hooves. He ran to the big house, screaming and limping a bit, and soon after he got there, he walked out alongside Chiron, who dismissed everyone back to their beds, except the head counselors from each cabin.

At the Ares cabin, Clarisse was the head counselor. It wasn’t a title Emily really craved, but the power it held gave her sister some advantages, like right at that moment, being able to go alongside Chiron up the hill to see what had happened, while Emily had to stay behind. Annabeth was head counselor of her cabin, just as Luke was of his, so they both left as well, leaving her alone with a pout.

When Annabeth came back, though, she went straight to Emily, who was already waiting for her sitting in front of Athena’s cabin; there was no way in hell she would ask Clarisse about what had happened if she could just ask her best friend.

“He’s the one. He has to be”

Apparently, they had found an unconscious boy who looked around their age up at the hill. According to Grover, they were trying to make it to camp, when the Minotaur showed up, and attacked them; the boy, whose name was Percy, fought the monster, and he won.

Emily couldn’t deny that that was impressive. She had never fought monsters besides the ones she found at camp’s forests’ or the ones they sometimes brought in for training, but she knew it wasn’t an easy task, let alone if you didn’t have any experience.

“Grover said Percy’s mom was also with them” Annabeth grimaced “Grover believes that… the Minotaur killed her”

“Oh” Emily had lost her own mother when she was little, and she still remembered the pain of losing her and not having her there; she still felt it from time to time. Her thoughts went to Percy, as she knew it would be hard for him “Wait… he only believes the monster killed her? What do you mean?”

“They searched for her, but they didn’t find anything anywhere down the hill. Grover said that… he saw her vanish, like the monsters do when you kill them, just as when the Minotaur was trying to squish her”

“That’s not how humans die”

“I know” Annabeth bit her lip, deep in thought “So many questions and so little answers… But I have a strong feeling about this, Emi. He could be the demigod I was waiting for”

Said demigod spent the rest of the day, and the following night, sleeping in the infirmary. Annabeth, embracing her rebellious side, wanted to go see him herself that evening, and Emily tagged along, full of curiosity for the new boy.

“That’s him?”

“Is there anyone else unconscious here that I’m not seeing?” it was thundering above camp, the sounds of the storm muffling their voices.

“Hush, you” Emily frowned, watching the boy “Is he…?”

“Yeah, he’s drooling” Percy kind of blinked his eyes open then, catching a glimpse of Annabeth standing at his bedside; he asked her where he was, and the only thing she came up with saying was ‘you drool when you sleep’. He looked baffled at her, mumbling a ‘huh?’, and then he fell back into dreamland.

“That was a perfect meet cute moment you two had there, Annie”

“Now you, hush”

The next morning, after breakfast, Luke took both Annabeth and Emily to the side, and told them that he had met Percy.

“He’s staying with us until he gets claimed” that was standard protocol for newcomers who didn’t know who their godly parents were, as Hermes was, amongst other things, the god of travellers “He seemed… pretty rough. No one can blame him though; fighting the minotaur, losing his mom, and what he thought was his life… all of that in one night. It is tough, but so seems he”

“Did he really have the minotaur’s horn? I heard Chris talking about it” Luke answered yes to Emily’s question, and she whistled “Not bad for an untrained demigod”

They didn’t see Percy for the rest of the day, though, not even during the meals; he ate at his cabin after Luke went back after lunch or dinner with something for him. Apparently not even Grover could get him to talk much.

Emily imagined that if she had arrived at camp under the same circumstances as him, she probably wouldn’t act all that different; her case was also one of the rarest ones of them all, as not many of the demigods had been personally escorted by their godly parent to camp. She felt empathy for Percy, wishing he would settle in quickly.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow” she told Annabeth, before they went to bed “You should come too. Get to know him if you think he’s the one”

“I’ll stick to my observations for now. You can debrief me later about what you think of him after you guys talk”

“Sure thing, ma’am, yes, ma’am”

Percy walked out of the Hermes cabin alongside Luke, Chris Rodriguez and other Hermes’ children the next morning, wearing his orange camp half-blood shirt and his (for now) bare necklace. Emily watched him from the entrance to the Ares cabin, and she made her way towards them when she spotted Clarisse walking in the same direction; she was accompanied by her most loyal supporters, which were some of hers and Emily’s siblings, and she had that smile on her face that Emily knew all too well. She was about to do something bad.

Clarisse bumped her shoulder against Percy’s on purpose, and when he exclaimed ‘hey!’, she shoved him on the chest, and he ended up on the ground. Emily reached them when Chris helped Percy up, while Clarisse was asking her audience if that was really the kid who had killed the minotaur.

“Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes” she pretended to shove Percy again, and he jumped back, defensive. Clarisse only laughed, until she saw Emily appearing behind the rookie.

“Back off, Clarisse”

“Or what? Are you gonna call daddy to lecture me?” she mocked her, laughing again, accompanied by their siblings’ mocking snickers.

“I’ll just win again next time we fight at the arena” this time it was Emily smiling victoriously “And I’ll ask Luke to join me. It’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

Clarisse only huffed, and she walked away followed by her congregation. Luke high-fived Emily, while the rest of the Hermes’ kids dispersed as well.

“Well she seems nice” said Percy sarcastically pointing at Clarisse’s back.

“Ares kids” Luke rested his hands on his hips, also looking back at the girl who had just left “They come by it, honestly. Except Emily, of course… unless you steal her dessert” he smiled at his friend, and she took that as the clue to introduce herself.

“I’m Emily, by the way” she waved at Percy, now feeling slightly awkward “As Luke said, I’m in cabin five. Ares”

“So that girl is your sister?”

“Technically half-sister, but yeah. She can be… a bit difficult if she wants to. Sorry for that”

“That’s a way of putting it nicely” Percy had met many, many bullies in the last few years; he had been at plenty of schools, and some of them he couldn’t even really recall, but he remembered every single bully “Why doesn’t she mess with you two?”

“She knows better”

“Luke’s the strongest swordsman at camp” explained Chris, who had sticked around “And Emily has been her rival since the know each other. Always competing to be the best of their cabin, at everything”

“So… you mean that they leave you alone because of glory?” Luke had been explaining the concept of what glory (or kleos, in Greek), meant to the heroes, that is, the demigods; if you had kleos, you had fame, and the people knew that you had done something to be respected “So if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?” Luke said ‘exactly’, although Emily knew better than that; she knew her sister better than Luke did: Clarisse would still mess with Percy even if he gained kleos, but maybe she just wouldn’t do it everywhere, at any hour, and all alone against him “And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me!”

“That’s something you can’t control” Emily looked Percy in the eyes, shaking her head “You can’t just… force the gods to do anything. Trust me. It doesn’t work like that”

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it harder for him to pretend I don’t exist and not claim me, right?”

He seemed to have a point.

As Percy’s current cabin counselor, Luke took it upon himself to introduce the new boy to all the activities at camp half-blood – this is, with Emily’s help, of course.

“A good source of glory are feats of skill. We just got to find out what you’re good at”

They took Percy to archery practice, where Apollo’s children excelled. When he ended up shooting his arrow at the opposite side where he had to, almost hitting a bunch of demigods standing there (now, laying on the ground to avoid the flying arrow), they figured he didn’t belong in cabin seven.

“Skill comes natural, yes, but training is also important” Emily showed Percy how to properly use the bow (especially to know how to not accidentally almost kill everyone around him), hitting almost perfectly the bullseye “Even if you’re not initially good at something, if you work on it, you’ll improve”

“How long have you been training?” Percy thought she looked his age, maybe a bit younger, but she couldn’t be older than twelve.

“Since I was six. That’s when I first got to camp, and I always stay for the full term, so I’ve gotten many more practice hours than the average summer campers”

“You’ve been living here since you were six?” he couldn’t believe it “For real?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go, and there are monsters outside of camp, so I need the training”

“So you’ve never been outside of here in like… five years?”

“Six years, and no. Chiron sometimes takes us out on… field trips, I guess. And then there’s the winter solstice ceremony, and other gatherings half-bloods can attend”

They went to the strawberry fields, but Percy’s gardening didn’t improve the growth of plants in any special way, so he definitely wasn’t a Dionysus kid (for which Percy seemed very relieved about).

“So… Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“No, I mean, your name” Emily talked to him while they walked back to the more secluded part of the camp, on their way to the forges, where Hephaestus kids worked “I’ve never met a Percy. I remember that… when I was really little, at my mom’s, she would show me these movies and… I think there was one where there was a dog named Percy”

“I… uh…cool. But my mom told me that she named me after Perseus. You know, the hero who killed Medusa. There is a statue of him in the Met museum”

“I know who he is, don’t worry. He’s technically my uncle. Well, mine, and from most people here. Maybe yours too!”

“It still feels kinda weird to me, all of this” he lowered his voice as they kept talking, seriousness invading his expression “I’ve only ever had my mom. Where was my dad when we needed him? The rest of the gods? All you people?”

“Those are the questions most demigods ask themselves once they get here” Luke piped up from a few feet away, looking sadly at him “Why didn’t they tell me sooner? Why wasn’t my dad with us? Why does it have to be me?” his words resonated with Percy’s feelings deeply “But now you’re not by yourself anymore. You have us. And who cares where our parents may be, as long as we have each other”

“Thanks… I guess”

They didn’t have much success at the forges. Percy started out well… until he accidentally threw a burning piece of metal over to a pile of fabric, that burst into flames. Luke sneakily got the three of them out of there before it got worse, and before anyone could notice they were gone, pretending that they didn’t have anything to do with that.

“So… not Hephaestus, apparently” Percy made a face, defeated. They were at the dining hall again, eating at their respective tables, so Emily was now at the Ares table, and him, Luke and Chris at Hermes’ “Is there a Greek god of disappointment? Maybe someone should ask him if he’s missing a kid”

“We’re gonna find the thing that you’re good at. I know it”

Percy heard some invisible bells chiming, and suddenly everyone from the Hermes tables was standing up, grabbing their plates.

“It’s our turn” said Luke “Burnt offerings. The gods like the smell, so it gets their attention before you say a prayer”

“They like the smell of burnt Mac and Cheese?”

“They like the smell of begging”

Luke explained to Percy that in order to get the deities’ attention, he had to burn what he would miss the most, because that way they would know that he meant what he was about to say, and they would listen.

Emily was still watching them from her own table, when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

“Don’t turn around” a voice whispered. It was Annabeth. She was invisible using the magical Yankees hat her mother, Athena, had gifted her “What do you think of him?”

That’s how things were between Emily and Annabeth: together they shared brains and strength, and they relied on each other for everything. In cases like this, particularly, Annabeth studied from afar, contemplating the facts, while Emily ‘got her hands dirty’, studying up close.

“He isn’t sure where he fits into all of this” Emily mumbled, pretending she chewed on some bread. She wasn’t in the mood for someone questioning her for talking alone out loud “He doesn’t know if this is really his place”

“It is. He wouldn’t have been able to cross the barrier if it wasn’t”

“That’s not what I mean. He’s… insecure. And angry. At his dad, and everyone who never told him about any of this. And he’s also grieving his mom, which doesn’t make the rest any easier”

“I’ll keep an eye on him”

Emily had practice for capture the flag in the afternoon, so she didn’t see Percy anymore until dinner, where he didn’t look any better than during lunch. He disappeared early after the offerings, and she shared a look with Luke when he caught her watching their table.

The Ares cabin had two tables at the dining hall, and Emily never sat with Clarisse; they were like two different teams under the same roof. When they weren’t fighting, both sisters ignored each other, but that doesn’t mean that Emily wasn’t alert for any suspicious moves on her part, like that evening, when Clarisse and two of their siblings were also watching Percy with too much interest.

She knew that Annabeth was also keeping an eye on the boy, so she hoped that if Clarisse was pretending to do what she liked to call her “initiation ceremony” to Percy, Annabeth would be able to prevent her sister from dunking Percy’s head in a toilet before it was too late.

Emily would also try to avoid that, of course. She snuck out of her cabin, like she had done hundreds, if not thousands of times before, and she searched for Clarisse and her minions, who hadn’t even returned to their cabin after dinner even though it was pitch black outside. Percy was also nowhere in sight, and she started to become worried, making her way to the bathhouse, when a loud noise coming from said place alerted her senses.

Hiding behind a nearby tree, accompanied by the owls’ hooting and the faint sound of crickets chirping, Emily saw how her sister and two more of Ares’ children ran back outside, completely drenched in water, anger written all over their face. When they were far enough, Annabeth removed her baseball cap, standing outside of the bathhouse, and she looked around until she spotted Emily.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked her friend, making her way over to join her.

“You’re my best friend. I just did” that was fair enough.

They entered together the bathhouse, where the floor was now flooded, and some faucets were spilling even more water non-stop. A door to one of the toilets’ was completely destroyed, and the wood that was once said door floated now around in the water, in dozens of pieces. Percy stood in the middle of it all, not a single drop of water on him, looking completely clueless. He spotted the two girls at the door when he turned around, both with their arms crossed, mirroring each other perfectly.

“I can explain” he said, warily. Although, he really couldn’t.

“No you can’t”

“…okay. I can’t” he looked at Emily, who he knew, of course, and then at Annabeth. She looked familiar “Wait. I know you”

“No, you don’t”

“Yeah, I do. You were there… that night in the infirmary” Emily hid her smile, remembering how those two had had their meet cute moment “Weren’t you?”

“Yes” this time, she went with the truth “I’m Annabeth”

“Are you stalking me, Annabeth?”

“Yes”

“Okay… Wait, Emily, were you stalking me too?”

“Yes” she shrugged, smiling slightly. She had done it for Annabeth, though, and at that precise moment, because she knew her sister had been up to something, but she didn’t owe him any explanation.

“Why?”

“We were waiting to see if something like this would happen” Emily pointed at the chaos that was now the bathhouse, reassembling a pond.

“So I’d know if you could help me” followed Annabeth.

“With what?” Percy wasn’t understanding much.

“Win capture the flag”

The three of them made their way back to the cabins after that brief conversation, without giving Percy any more explanations, so that they wouldn’t get caught in the flooded bathroom and be blamed for it. Annabeth entered her cabin the first, at the side of the Goddesses cabins, while Percy and Emily made their way to the opposite array of buildings, of the male Gods.

“What did Annabeth mean with ‘Capture the flag’?”

“It’s a game. Ask Luke, he’ll explain everything” Emily only smiled at him, thinking his confused frown looked funny.

“Oh… okay” he remained silent for a few seconds “Look… I didn’t mean to attack your siblings. I’m sorry for that” Percy whispered his apology to her, so to not be heard by anyone; it was past curfew so they shouldn’t be roaming the woods at that hour “Although I’m not really sure I was the one who… actually did that. The water just… disappeared inside the pipeline, and then it shot back up hitting Clarisse and the others”

“The water protected you from them” she bit her lip, thoughtful “I’m sorry that they ambushed you”

“It’s okay… It seems like bullies tend to like me. I’m used to it”

“Well, I’m glad that this time they got what they deserved. I don’t like meanies either” she smiled at Percy, now standing in front of the entrance to her cabin “Goodnight, supreme lord of the bathroom”

Emily took a long time to get asleep that night, analysing what she had witnessed; Percy didn’t seem to fit any particular trait of any of the gods, he wasn’t skilled in any specific task, and he wasn’t as mischievous as most Hermes’ children were.

There was a possibility she didn’t dare to think of: the big three. It couldn’t even be possible… right? They had made a pact to not have any more children after the incident (which was, the second world war), because they were too powerful; that kind of demigods couldn’t be controlled. And there were many other gods, minor ones, who could have fathered Percy.

It was the facts though, like all the fuss they had made about Percy getting to camp, the trouble Grover and him had faced, his victory against the minotaur, and that strange yet very revealing experience in the bathhouse, that made Emily doubt if he could be a forbidden child.

Feeling tense and uneasy, she finally fell asleep, off to dreamland: she was laying under the stars on the grass, watching the archer, the ursa major, and other constellations she knew by heart. She wasn’t alone, though. She didn’t need to look to know who it was: his hand, big and calloused, was pointing up to the sky above them, and although he was explaining something to her, she was more concentrated in the movement of his hand and the flex of his fingers. On one of said fingers was the same ring she carried on her necklace, glistening under the moonlight.

She felt safe in that dream, and a warmth washing over her, soothing her like a balm. She wasn’t really understanding anything he was telling her, his voice muffled as if they were far away from one another, although she could feel him right by her side. Her uneasiness slightly vanished, even if it was just for a few seconds, and she felt reassured by him. When she turned to look at his face, the warmth disappeared, and she woke up.

Emily fought to not open her eyes, clinging to the dream; it was a memory of what seemed another lifetime she deeply missed. She didn’t have time to mourn the past, though: today was the day of capture the flag.

Joining her siblings for one last morning practice, Emily temporarily forgot about her doubts concerning Percy, and focused on training: the Ares cabin had teamed up with Demeter, Aphrodite, Hephaestus and Dionysus for this game, while Athena, Apollo and Hermes formed the other team. Although Emily’s team had more cabins, the two bigger cabins were the seventh (this is, Apollo), and the eleventh (Luke’s cabin, Hermes).

There were only two children of Mr. D, and Demeter’s offsprings weren’t very into combat, although they liked to fight the Apollo children for using arrows, which were made out of wood (which came from trees, and they refused to participate in any activity that encouraged the senseless slaughter of their arboreal friends!).

Aphrodite’s children weren’t bad at fighting if they wanted to, but they lacked of… the bloodlust Ares’ children had. Emily was friends with their head counselor, Silena Beauregard, as they had spent much time together at the Pegasi stables, of which Silena was in charge of. The Hephaestus demigods were built big and strong, so they were useful for combat, but their best virtue was the weapons they crafted and provided for the game.

One of their strongest weapons wasn’t made by them, though: Clarisse, leader of their team, owned an electric spear, gifted to her by Ares himself. It was her most prized possession, and she liked to show if off every chance she got, using it with her characteristic brute force.

Emily had her own weapon gifted to her by their father, an enchanted throwing knife which disguised as a bracelet, but it wasn’t as flashy or grandiose as Clarisse’s spear. She hated that spear.

Capture the flag would begin after lunch, so after grabbing a quick bite, and burning some of the food, Emily still had some little time to spare. She looked for Grover, and found him in the forest near the lake.

“I need to talk to you”

“Oh, sure, hi” he looked around them, seeming nervous. Although Emily wasn’t as aggressive as most of her siblings, she could be intense, and rather direct. She had often given Grover many jump scares “What’s up?”

“It’s about Percy” his face went serious “Annabeth and I… we are suspecting something. About his parentage”

“I don’t think I can help you with that” he said, shaking his head fast “No, I don’t…”

“You’re also suspecting something, aren’t you?” Grover’s face turned red; she had caught him. Emily smiled, walking closer to him, while Grover walked backwards, distancing himself slowly “I’m not saying you know anything, but… you know him better than we do. You guys were best friends at his school, right? Did anything happen there? Something… suspicious, that could make you think of a specific god?”

“I really can’t talk to you about this” he thought that Emily had been influenced too much by Annabeth, as she had her same ways of relentlessly asking questions, which combined with her resilience, made her implacable. And he would get in trouble if he said anything. Fortunately, the sound of a conch shell in the distance saved him “Oh, look, the game is starting. I would have loved to keep talking to you, but I really need to go now”

“You’re not even competing” she frowned.

“Yeah, sure, but this place is about to become a warzone, and no satyr wants to be around when that happens”

Fair enough, she let him go; she couldn’t be late anyways, so she ran back to her cabin, and quickly put on her armour, before going to the weaponry to grab everything she needed. Her preferred weapons were her throwing knife and a dagger she had had since she was six, which she always carried with her. For capture the flag she stuck to the standard sword and shield, although she was always tempted by the spears. She liked them, it was part of the typical Greek arsenal for battle… but the spears were also Clarisse’s thing, and she didn’t want to be compared to her sister.

Chiron had started to gather both teams at a cliff where the river split the forest in two sides, and fell down the mountain in a waterfall. Most of Emily’s team members were already there, wearing red striped armours like hers, and at the other side of the river, she saw Luke standing alongside the rest of his siblings and teammates, and also Percy; the blue eyed boy wore a blue striped armour over his orange shirt, with a blue crested helmet on his head. His weapons were a shield, and something small he was holding in his hand Emily couldn’t really make out from that far away. On Emily’s side was the red flag they had to defend, and on Percy’s and Luke’s side, the blue flag her team had to snatch to win.

The captains arrived, Clarisse and Annabeth on their respective sides, and Chiron, wearing his favourite tweed jacket and a cream coloured cape over it, greeted everyone cheerfully.

“Welcome, demigods!” he seemed delighted, and he sounded excited “A new game of capture the flag is ahead! As always, the rules are simple: the first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor. As always, there will be no maiming and no killing. I trust these rules will be respected” those rules had to be installed after some unfortunate events Emily had been glad to not have experienced “Any magical items you may possess, are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged” those had also been things Emily was glad she hadn’t experienced “Let the games begin!”

After the conch shell blew again, the red team erupted in angry battle cries, banging their shields and various weapons in chaotic rhythms. The blue team let out a collective shout, hitting their shield in unison. Both teams had twenty minutes before the conch sounded a final time, and then it would be game on.

Emily winked at Annabeth, who winked back at her playfully before completely assuming her role as captain once more. Let the best one win.

Clarisse designated different troops for the game, and sent them scattered throughout the forest to attack the blue team and defend their flag. Emily was running off with her squadron, when she caught out of the corner of her eye how Clarisse and two of their siblings separated from their group, heading to a completely different direction.

“Emily, c’mon!”

Sighing, she followed her troop, hoping for the best.

She had her hands full soon anyways. Clarisse didn’t want Emily protecting the teams flag because of her friendship with Annabeth, so she was assigned to holding back the opposite team so that they wouldn’t actually get to the flag; Clarisse wasn’t Emily’s greatest fan, but she knew to not underestimate her. So she was quickly busy fighting Annabeth’s teammates: Emily wasn’t alone of course, as she had four of her siblings and four other demigods to help out. They won the first round, but the next battalion was commanded by Luke himself, and that would be tougher. Much more.

Luke went straight to her; he knew she would be the most difficult one to disarm, so he took it upon himself to fight her. He circled Emily, sword raised defensively, and she mirrored his movements. Luke’s first strike was easy to stop, and with practiced skill she raised her own sword, metal clashing against metal. As Luke pressed forward, Emily countered swift strikes of her own, until one of Luke’s brothers, Chris, joined him and attacked Emily from the other side. She raised her shield defensively, and Luke took his chance to hit her sword again, this time making her lose her grip.

Emily shoved Chris with force, using her shield to add strength to the hit, and when he tripped, she disarmed him as well. Luke attacked again, but Emily jumped to the side in time to avoid the hit of his sword; her own sword was laying on the ground, and she quickly retrieved it using her shield once again to block Luke’s strikes.

“Do you give up?”

“Never”

The two clashed relentlessly, swords meeting in a flurry of strikes and parries. Emily’s determination fueled her every move, strong and skilled, but Luke knew her weak spots like no one else, and so he used them against her. He sent Emily’s sword back clattering to the ground hitting her on the arm, and he dodged her dagger when she threw it at him furiously.

“You Ares kids have a temper!”

“Don’t provoke it then!”

Cornered against a tree, Emily charged against him, letting out an angry scream. Luke managed to get out of the way before she hit him, causing her to stumble forward. She recovered fast, doing a somersault, but when she faced Luke again, he had his sword raised just below her chin – He had the upper hand now.

“Are we done now?”

“Nuhuh, but I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends. I know you need the validation” she let go of her shield, signalling her surrender. She would never admit a defeat out loud, though. Her genes, Ares’ genes, wouldn’t let her.

Luke helped her up, while the rest of her team also recovered. Chris told Luke something about having to move quickly to get the flag before Clarisse showed up, but Luke seemed chill about it.

“Are you so self-confident that you think she won’t manage to kick your ass if she gets her hands on you?” Emily raised her eyebrows at her friend, surprised. Luke only smirked, shaking his head no.

“I’m not that crazy, no. But we suspect that she’s got her own quest going on beside capturing the flag. I’ve spotted her going up the hill in the opposite direction around fifteen minutes ago”

“What quest are you talking about?” she didn’t need to think much to guess it herself “She’s going after Percy?”

“Annabeth’s got a plan, don’t worry. He’ll be fine”

“I hope you’re right”

When Luke and his troop left to go find the red flag, Emily decided she would also leave; they had already been defeated anyways, so she couldn’t prevent Luke from getting her team’s flag, and so she went after Clarisse. The bad feeling she’d had at the beginning of the game seemed to have been right.

Emily ran through the forest, up the hill like Luke had told her, and after some time moving in the opposite direction of where most of the action was happening, she began to hear faint sounds of metal clashing against metal, and the familiar sizzle sound of an electric spear she knew all too well.

To some extent, Emily could understand Clarisse, which was probably one of the main reasons they didn’t get along well. Both of them had been ignored by their father for years now, and not a single thing they did to make him proud seemed to catch his eye. Not a single one. They both lived at camp the whole year, and they trained nearly every single say, trying to always become stronger, faster, and greater. Their mutual competition also helped, she had to admit – they always pushed each other, and it improved their skills. They were their best opponent.

That’s why, when a twelve year old with absolute no preparation got to camp, defeating the Minotaur all by himself, Emily had also had her suspicions. He couldn’t have done it alone, right? Turns out he could, and he did. And instead of being impressed by him and wanting to get to know him more to discover the reason for his spectacular victory, like Emily did, Clarisse could only focus on the fact that some little dumb twelve year old, untrained and unclaimed, had raised more attention to himself in a few days, than she had managed to get in years of being at camp pushing herself to extreme limits to excel.

And it killed Clarisse. She fought so hard to get scraps of her father’s attention, and he never showed her any kind of affection. In her mind, she thought that it was her fault, though, and that if she worked harder for him, he would love her – Emily felt the same way; that’s what she understood so well about her sister. Clarisse’s hard work had barely granted her anything since getting to camp, and Percy was receiving all the glory she deserved and dreamed of, and that he didn’t even seem to want. It wasn’t fair.

That’s why she embraced her darker side, and sought the next best thing after glory: revenge.

Emily got to the top of the hill in time to see Percy running away from her sister and two of her siblings, who went right after him. They would corner Percy from different sides, like hunters with their prey.

She couldn’t just shout out for Percy, as it would reveal her position to her siblings, so Emily ran behind them (lamenting the fact that she had just made it up the hill, and that she now had to run all the way back down with sore legs), trying to figure out their moves: Clarisse was running down in a straight line, not really following Percy, but getting ahead of him, probably to corral him further down the mountain. Her siblings were the ones directly on his toes, and while one of them followed his same footsteps, the other calculated where he would end up passing through, and threw himself at him, sending the boy to the ground.

Percy rolled down to the shore line between bushes and trees, landing on the hard and sharp soil gravel by the lake. Emily’s siblings caught up to him, and Percy stood up quickly, almost tripping while walking backwards to put a distance between him and them, with his sword up; he didn’t go far, though, as Clarisse was waiting for him with her spear pointing at him, ready to fight.

Emily was about to intervene, when a hand on her shoulder stopped her – an invisible hand.

“Annabeth, we have to help him” Emily protested, watching Clarisse laugh at Percy before launching herself at him, almost impaling him like a human kebab “He’s got no chance against them”

“He defeated the minotaur, right?” Annabeth was still invisible, but she could feel, and hear her right beside her. She probably had been watching Percy this whole time, waiting for a fight like this to happen “And he did that thing in the bathhouse. Just… wait and see how it goes”

“Are you sure?”

“Crystal. Trust me on this”

I was hard to look at, though. Emily’s siblings wouldn’t give Percy any respite, however, he managed to grab the electric spear at one point, both him and Clarisse grabbing it now from opposite sites, and he used it to temporarily block her. He landed some good hits on the other two Ares’ demigods, but then Clarisse got Percy to let go of her weapon. Percy rolled on the ground and got his shield back, and after a few seconds where his three rivals reconsidered their options, they attacked him again.

Percy wasn’t trained, but he had a natural talent and he defended himself good, to the point where he blocked Clarisse’s strike, managing to grab the end of her spear again, this time with the same arm he held the shield. After hits, grunts and metal clashes, Percy took the others down, and with both of her siblings on the ground, Clarisse desperately tried to free her weapon from Percy’s grip rolling on the soil, making him trip and fall a few feet away. Alongside the sound of his fall, pants and groans, there was the sound of something hard and metallic breaking apart and a large amount of energy being released all at once

Emily held her breath, just as Annabeth. Percy was alright, and so was Clarisse, but her spear… the electric spear her father had gifted her, which was the only thing she had ever received from him, was now split in two, broken. Both girls held their breath while watching Clarisse assess the damage, seeing the lower half of her favourite weapon in her hands, severed from the half in Percy’s hands.

Clarisse's scream tore through the air like a raw, primal cry of anguish and fury. It echoed off the trees, resonating with the intensity of her emotions as she beheld the shattered remnants of her beloved weapon, devastation on her face.

She charged against Percy, seeing completely red, and Emily couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped forward, just in time to stop Clarisse from grabbing Percy by the straps of his breastplate, who stepped back in terror.

Before Clarisse could lunge at her sister for getting in her way, the conch shell blew, and a second after, Luke and his soldiers ran to the shore holding victoriously the red team’s flag. Annabeth had won.

“The game is over, Clarisse” Emily looked at her sister warily. She was unpredictable when she got angry and hurt, which Emily knew “Leave him”

The older girl only huffed, and walked away with her two companions, holding the remnants of her spear in both hands.

Percy fell to the ground on his knees, panting heavily. The rush of adrenaline was wearing off, and his emotions started rise up him as he caught up with what had just happened – amongst other things, he had nearly died.

“Not bad, hero”

He turned to his right, where there was… nothing. At least, until Annabeth took her Yankees cap off; she walked over to him, and he looked baffled at her.

“Were you here the whole time?” she confirmed it “You were here the whole time and you didn’t help me?” he got the same answer “Why?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, and extended her hand out for him to grab. She helped him up, and only then did he look at Emily.

“Thanks for… saving me” he panted, still breathing heavily. His heart was beating a hundred miles per hour, and his blood rang inside his ears “She was going to kill me”

“Listen, Percy…” Annabeth got him to look at her again. She looked him in the eyes, intense gaze studying his blue iris’s, which looked back at her holding onto every word she said “I’m sorry”

Annabeth shoved him in the chest, causing him to stumble and to fall into the lake.

“Annabeth!” Emily looked at her friend in alarm, completely taken aback for what she had just done.

“What is wrong with you?!” shouted Percy, now completely soaked. His cries and Emily’s got everyone’s attention, and the celebration of the blue team’s victory was cut short when every soldier turned to them, watching what was happening.

Percy stood up inside the water, but Annabeth didn’t answer him nor Emily. She only watched him, first with interest, and then with amazement. Emily followed her gaze, and she understood what she was looking at: Percy’s injuries, cuts and blood… were disappearing. He felt how his skin healed, and he watched every scrape vanish before his eyes.

What was happening? How was he healing?

“I don’t understand” he muttered.

The answer came in the shape of a trident.

“Your dad’s calling”

A blue trident floating over Percy’s head. He had been claimed.

Emily, Annabeth, Luke and every single other living being who was there looked at the boy in wonder, in utter silence, the greatness of this once in a lifetime moment embarking their souls. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing: a son of the big three. A forbidden child of the sea god. A demigod singular amongst heroes.

“Percy Jackson” Chiron’s voice resonated through the forest, carrying an intensity that was only possessed by those who had lived thousands of years “You have been claimed by Poseidon. Earthshaker. Stormbringer. Percy Jackson… Son of the Sea God”

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Taglist of the fic: @strawberryys-stuff @ladysybilchronicles @kyuupidwrites @nhloversblog @beansficreblogs @priyajoyy @zeeader @lightsgore

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