VEYVEY

FANFICTION― BRAINROT IM 23

[veyveyx]

MASTER LIST

MCU―

steve rogers―

lovesick, laufey.

second best, laufey.

pretty when you cry, lana del rey.

if only, dove cameron.

bucky barnes―

fluorescent adolescent.

peter parker―

that girl, emei.

PJO―

percy jackson―

summer nights, lilypichu.

dreamy nights, lilypichu.

pom pom, lilypichu.

die for you, joji.

wildflower, billie eilish.

luke castellan―

picture you, chappell roan.

iris, the goo goo dolls.

once more to see you, mitski.

HP―

harry potter―

space song, beach house.

TOH―

hunter―

make it wit chu, queens of the stone age.

ATLA―

zuko―

ARCANE―

jayce talis―

ma meilleure ennemie, stromae and pomme.

[veyveyx]

i need someone to make this a reality in any form of media

the outsiders audio "even as i begged silently, please, not him, not him and johnny both. i knew he would be dead, cuz dally winston wanted to be dead. and he always got what he wanted. two friends of mine had died that night, one a hero, the other a hoodlum"

BUT!!!

that w shoko talking about suguru and satoru. IT PROBABLY EXISTS BUT OH I WOULD LOVE IT SO MUCH. TWO OF MY FAVOURITES COMBINED?? HEAVEN!!!

[veyveyx]

SOMEONE MADE AN EDIT OF THIS EXACT IDEA ON INSTA A FEW WEEKS LATER YESSS

[veyveyx]

i need someone to make this a reality in any form of media

the outsiders audio "even as i begged silently, please, not him, not him and johnny both. i knew he would be dead, cuz dally winston wanted to be dead. and he always got what he wanted. two friends of mine had died that night, one a hero, the other a hoodlum"

BUT!!!

that w shoko talking about suguru and satoru. IT PROBABLY EXISTS BUT OH I WOULD LOVE IT SO MUCH. TWO OF MY FAVOURITES COMBINED?? HEAVEN!!!

[yurinaa-world]

2#—𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Phainon/Lord Khaslana x Female reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: You always hated being one of the wives of Lord Khaslana, living the rest of your life in the misery of a never-ending cycle. Until you were given a beautiful watch keeper, named Phainon, did your feelings about life begin to change?

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 4k word count (I've lost my mind), Spoiler? Age Gap between the reader and Phainon/Khaslana, Alternate Universe, wrong lore?, Angst? Lord Khaslana has two other wives (not seen as romantic by him, though), religious mentions, dark/violent language, spelling mistakes, bad writing, not sure of anything else, still not finished 😛

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: Didn't expect people to really like the last one, I had so many drafts of the first part that were way darker and a bit insane, but y'all got the wholesome one. still not finished...part three if anyone wants it

💫𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒

Phainon, your watchful keeper, wasn’t as bad as you first thought. Though you remained wary of him—after all, he reported to the high priest and wasn’t really your “friend”—you found yourself slowly happier having him around. Somehow, he seemed willing to do anything you wanted, anything at all. Even that one time you wanted to skip prayer because your knees hurt, you somehow gave in after telling Phainon that thought.

Lord Khaslana, it seemed, adored Phainon far more than he ever did you—and who could blame him, given a face like that.

The evidence was clear: whenever you spent time alone with Phainon, birds would begin to gather, landing atop you both, much to your dismay as Phainon laughed while you tried to shoo them away.

Or that hot summer morning, when you casually mentioned at breakfast that rain would be a relief from the heat—and as soon as Phainon joined you, the sky opened and rain began to fall.

Not once during your stay had your prayers been answered—at least, not the ones you actually cared enough to ask for. But when Phainon was by your side, all these little miracles seemed to happen.

It must be that Lord Khaslana truly adored Phainon more than any of his wives. But you kept that thought to yourself—you might get struck by lightning if you dared expose it. (It was only a funny thought—you hoped the lord couldn’t read minds.) After all, he was the husband. He could have a tempter, even temptresses, as side pieces if he wished, and none of the wives could do anything about it, no matter how much they might wish.

One thing was obvious, though—you seemed so much happier these days.

Your eyes, back then, had always looked utterly hopeless, full of resentment whenever anyone dared to look at you—the gaze of a woman who had lost all hope, trapped by the duty to serve a husband she barely knew.

“Because a woman’s worth is said to lie in her husband’s favor—even if she’s the least cherished of the three, she is still expected to remain devoted. After all, a woman is the heart of her husband, whether he remembers it or not.”

Those were the first words spoken to you when reprimanded. But a wife being the husband’s heart didn’t apply to you—the moment you took your vows alone, his heart would have stopped beating long ago. (How many hearts does one selfish husband need?)

You were the only one with such thoughts in the temple. The other two wives, Daphne and Phoebe—whom you had to regard as sisters since you all shared the same lord—never shared your sentiment.

They were uncomfortable around you; it was obvious. They whispered their conversations only after you left, like children waiting for their parents to exit the room before continuing their tasks.

They were naive. Lord Khaslana never visited them—never on their wedding nights or even attempted to consummate the marriage—just like with you. Yet that never stopped them from dreaming of children when you walked past.

You once overheard them discussing having children at the dinner table. You didn’t understand why hearing that made you sick—it was usual for girls to start having children at fifteen, but you were already quite old for your age, and far behind.

Yet those memories and thoughts began to fade as you spent more time with Phainon. Even the high priest noticed the change, which was no secret—you got into less trouble and your attitude softened.

“You seem quite happy these days,” the high priest said with a smile, speaking about something other than a lecture as you stood in his office. His words pulled you out of your daydream.

“…Is that so?” you replied carefully, a bland smile tugging at your lips. You never trusted the high priest’s kindness—it was always laced with something else.

“Lord Khaslana also seems pleased that you feel this way. It seems the idea of sending you a personal watch keeper has had a positive outcome,” he added, referring to the previous “blessings” attributed to Lord Khaslana—though you doubted it, pushing the thought to the back of your mind.

“I’m grateful that’s the case.”

Phainon had miraculously pulled you out of your bed-rotting routine, coaxing you to come out and have some fun with him—without the guards, no less. At first, you were a bit annoyed; your social battery was practically nonexistent, and the idea of going outside felt exhausting. But Phainon’s relentless positive attitude didn’t waver, no matter how many times you refused. Eventually, he promised something really special—along with “delicious” food—and that was enough to get you to agree.

Now, here you were, sitting under the shade of a tree with Phainon, eating skewers together. Phainon had several skewers balanced in one hand, each one a different type of animal meat. He insisted you try them all. You suspected he was just being gluttonous.

“Is it good, my lady?” he asked, eyes bright and eager, watching your every expression so closely you almost imagined him wagging a white dog tail with matching ears.

“I haven’t even tried it yet,” you said, squinting at him before taking a bite. The meat was soft, tender, and surprisingly hot, causing an immediate sting on your tongue. You held it in your mouth as long as you could before swallowing.

“Ah! Are you alright?!” Phainon’s voice was filled with worry as he checked on you. “I should’ve cooled it down before telling you to eat.”

You waved your hand dismissively, cheeks puffed out from the lingering heat, trying not to cough like you would when choking on water. “It’s… fine,” you managed, eyes watering slightly before calming down.

“You should eat before the skewers cool down,” Phainon urged, his worried expression softening into a relieved smile as he saw you recover.

“Ah, you’re right, my lady! But I couldn’t enjoy them until I knew you were okay.” He chuckled and took a bite of his own skewer, eyes lighting up with delight.

“Mmm! This one’s amazing—you have to try the lamb next!” He eagerly held out another skewer, the scent of perfectly seasoned meat wafting through the air. Despite your initial reluctance, you couldn’t deny the food—and his company—were making this outing far more enjoyable than you expected.

You switched the skewer you had with a bite taken out to the lamb one, about to take a bite when Phainon stopped you. “Wait, my lady.” He gently blew on the meat. “Now you won’t be burned.” His warm smile, flashing teeth, made your stomach flutter unexpectedly, and you quickly took the bite as if to chase away that strange feeling.

The lamb was even more tender than the last. The spices danced on your tongue—rich, smoky, with just the right hint of heat. You chewed slowly, savoring it before swallowing and glancing at Phainon, who watched you with the same expectant sparkle in his eyes.

“Well?” he prompted, leaning in slightly. “Do you like it?”

You hesitated, watching his reaction closely. His brows knitted together in exaggerated worry.

“Oh no, did I pick a bad one? I swear the vendor said it was—”

“It’s good,” you cut him off before he could spiral.

His face lit up as if you’d crowned him king. “You made me worried there.” He laughed, then paused, an epiphany striking him as he rummaged through his things while you finished your lamb.

“My lady,” he called, drawing your attention to a delicate hairpin he held out. It was silver filigree shaped like winding vines, dotted with tiny, shimmering gemstones that caught the light. He looked so silly holding skewers in one hand and this pretty hairpin in the other.

“This is for you—your special gift.”

You blinked, surprised. “You… got this for me?”

Phainon nodded eagerly. “Of course! I promised you something special. The moment I saw it, I thought—it’s perfect for you.”

Your fingers hesitated before taking the hairpin. It was delicate, the silver vines shimmering with gems.

“Why would you—?”

“Because you deserve it,” he said simply.

That strange warmth rose in your chest again, and you quickly looked away, finishing the last bite of lamb. For the first time in a long while, you heard those words—you deserved something—without having to beg or ask. He had gone out of his way just to find and give it to you. You.

“Thank you, Phainon.”

You had even started doing things with Phainon that were quite frowned upon—like how both of your clothes were sopping wet. Phainon had shed a few layers (the sun mark on his neck now more prominent), and you were lifting your dress to tie it around your waist.

Looking around at the lake, the cool, fresh water felt wonderful. Well, in reality, you were mostly just lying on your back, letting the water sway you gently. Or holding your breath to dive under, just to see what you could find beneath the surface.

Until Phainon decided to start a war with you while you were peacefully floating—sending a huge wave that caused you to sputter and jump from the water, hair messy and gasping for air.

“Sorry, my lady, my hand must’ve slipped.”

“Your hand slipped, huh?” You slicked your hair back and, with all your might, threw a wave back at him, drenching him in return.

“Sorry, my hand must’ve slipped,” you mocked, grinning like you’d actually won the fight.

Phainon narrowed his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Oh, so that’s how it is?” His voice was calm, but you could tell he was plotting something.

You braced yourself, but he still managed to send another splash your way—smaller than before but enough to hit you square in the face.

Wiping the water off, you glared. “That’s the best you’ve got?” Without waiting for his answer, you scooped up as much water as you could and flung it back at him, catching him across the shoulder.

Water dripped from his body. Only now did your eyes begin to wander over the thin white layers of clothing clinging to him, becoming almost transparent. You felt like a man gazing upon a maiden’s bare legs—ironic, since your dress was tied up to reveal your own.

His shirt clung like a second skin—every ridge of muscle, every line traced clearly beneath the damp fabric. The sun mark on his neck pulsed faintly, glowing with the warmth of the day or the rush of movement—you weren’t sure which.

Looking away, flustered, you barely had time to react before another wave hit you. You sputtered, wiping your face with both hands as laughter bubbled out against your will.

“You little—!”

“Watch your tongue, my lady,” Phainon called, wading forward through the waist-deep water, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You never know when another... accident might happen.”

You squinted, shielding your face with your hands, ready for another splash even as you laughed behind the barrier.

The laughter still danced in your throat, but the water between you shifted and splashed. You took one step too quickly—meant to land a wave of your own after you stopped laughing so much—and instead your foot caught on a rock.

You yelped, slipping forward before you could stop yourself.

You stumbled into the water, which surged up your nose, burning sharp and fast, making your eyes scrunch shut as you flailed instinctively, water hitting your throat. Your vision blurred until you felt a pair of arms around you, lifting you up swiftly.

His arms were under your thighs, hoisting you like you weighed nothing. Your leg instinctively wrapped around his waist, and your fingers gripped his shirt before you could stop yourself. You gasped for air, hair dripping wet, the cold water leaving little trails down your back and shoulders.

“Are you alright, my lady?!”

You coughed into his shoulder, nodding faintly despite the sting in your throat. “M’fine,” you rasped, voice strained from water that had made itself too comfortable in your lungs. “I think I just slipped on something.”

His arms didn’t loosen—not even a bit. One hand held the back of your thigh, the other braced your back so tightly you felt the warmth of his palm through your soaked clothes. Your cheek rested against his shoulder, your breathing shaky but slowly settling—and yet, even when you could breathe again, he didn’t put you down.

Deciding you’d had enough fun for the day.

The lake water sloshed around his legs with each step, dripping from both of you in long, uneven trails. He reached the shore and crouched, lowering you gently onto the soft grass like you were fragile. His movements were slow and careful—as if you might break if he moved too fast.

You tried not to meet his eyes, mostly because yours wouldn’t stop blinking out water, your hair half-plastered across your cheek.

But then—before you could ask what he was doing—he knelt beside you, lifting your ankle gently to inspect the bottom of your foot.

“I’m not hurt,” you tried to argue, voice hoarse. “I just—slipped, that’s all.”

“Still,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across the arch of your foot, sweeping away grit or tiny pebbles. “We wouldn’t want you to get an infection. Thank goodness you were lucky and didn’t get a cut.” He smiled at you.

For some reason, you moved your foot, holding his hand and pressing it against his shoulder.

The second you did, you started laughing when you saw his bright eyes watching you. It almost looked like he enjoyed it.

“You like that?” you teased breathlessly, hair dripping in front of your face.

Phainon raised a brow, a grin tugging at his lips. His hand moved your hair away from your eyes. “My lady, you enjoy messing with me, don’t you?” Then he held out his hand for you to take, to lead you back home. “I just can’t help it.”

You and Phainon didn’t even think to stop as you walked through the pearly doors of the temple, leaving a trail of water across the polished floors.

His soaked shirt clung to his skin, the sun mark on his neck glowing faintly. Your tied-up dress dripped steadily while he held his pair of shoes, and you did the same for your own.

You didn’t even notice the servants’ horrified gazes at your drenched state and bare legs. Nor did you see the looks from Phoebe and Daphne, their eyes wide with disbelief at the sight of you like this.

As usual, Daphne, Phoebe, and you sat at one end of the table while the High Priest sat at the other. Surprisingly, the mood wasn’t terrible. You had little on your mind, just eating the same meal presented to all of you, while Daphne and Phoebe chatted as usual.

Before long, the High Priest dragged you out of your thoughts mid-bite.

“Any thoughts about the festival coming up in a few weeks?” he asked, like a schoolteacher prompting discussion among the group.

“Festival?” you said, confused—like forgetting you’d ordered something, only for it to suddenly arrive at your doorstep. Everyone looked at you oddly.

“Did you forget about the second biggest festival this year, Sister (Name)?” Daphne tilted her head at you.

You had completely forgotten.“It must’ve slipped my mind,” you said softly, leaving Daphne and Phoebe stunned at how you weren’t trying to change the atmosphere with your usual attitude.

“I heard there are going to be brighter fireworks when the sun sets on the final day,” Daphne said excitedly.

“Wait—brighter fireworks, Sister Daphne?” Phoebe leaned in, her voice dropping to a curious tone. “Not just flame dancers and smoke mirrors again?”

Daphne nodded, unable to contain her grin. “A brother told me they brought in alchemists and cooks from the East this year. Apparently, they have a sky-fire that bursts into shapes—flowers, birds, and even brighter colors than before.”

“Brighter fireworks? How wonderful!” Phoebe said happily, but still modestly. “I have to see that. Imagine the light reflecting off silk—” She paused and turned to you. “Sister (Name), are you going to spend the fireworks with Brother Phainon?”

The way she looked at you was cold, analyzing your response, though her lips held a pretty smile. It reminded you of your mother’s expression when you were younger—the same expression whenever she was angry but guests were over.

“…Phainon?” you echoed softly, buying time.

You felt it again—your childhood instinct, a strange déjà vu. Phoebe barely ever talked to you; maybe you were overthinking it?

“Of course, Brother Phainon, since you’ve become so close—thank Lord Khaslana for such a blessing—since you now have a reason to go out for the festival.”

You used to refuse to go to festivals. Every time one came around, it brought a venomous feeling to your stomach. Instead of joining in, you stayed in your room, silently crying into your pillow from sheer loneliness.

You always told them it was because you didn’t like crowds.

They believed you, of course. Why wouldn’t they? You were the difficult wife—a ludicrous saint for a woman—the one least loved by Lord Khaslana.

And now?

Now you had someone who always asked you to go.

You still weren’t sure if that was why the loneliness didn’t hurt as much anymore… or if you’d just grown used to it.

Either way, you didn’t answer Phoebe right away. You lowered your eyes to your food, chewing slowly.

“If Brother Phainon is available, I suppose I will accompany him.”

You didn’t say it like a declaration. You said it like a shrug. Like it didn’t matter.

“Of course he’s available. He is your watchkeeper, Sister (Name), so… devoted to you...”

She leaned slightly closer, slicing a fig in half with the edge of her spoon, her voice low and smooth like a criminal getting away with a crime.

“Nothing less expected from Lord Khaslana’s devoted children—to treat one of his wives with such love—may he be blessed.”

You must be insane. 

The conversation moves once more as Daphne romanticizes (like she always does) about how the fireworks are going to look during such a beautiful night and how she prays for the skies to be clear that night.

Phainon was so excited for the festival; you were only slightly excited—the last time you felt like that was when you were a young child. Phainon had been hyping up seeing fireworks together ever since you told him what you’d heard from Sister Daphne, saying he had the perfect place to take you (but you had to wait for the final day!).

You had so much fun throughout the festival days. You laughed more than you meant to. Ate things you hadn’t had since your mother’s kitchen. Even danced once—only because Phainon dragged you into it, and you were too stunned to pull away.

You might have stepped on his foot a few times. You were stiff and awkward and probably looked like someone trying to walk through mud. But Phainon just laughed each time like it didn’t hurt, and if it did, he said nothing, instead picking you up.

Both feet off the ground, arms around your waist, like you weighed nothing. Like you were something light and easy to carry. You barely had time to react—your hands clutched his shoulders out of instinct.

You felt your heart jump into your throat.

Gosh, you hoped he didn’t see the heat on your face.

. . .

On the last day, as the sun was setting, everyone waited for the fireworks to begin, ready for Phainon to take you to the place he had hinted at since the festival started.

Yet when he saw you—wide-eyed and mouth agape—looking so effortlessly beautiful, he froze.

That hairpin he gave you a while ago—the one he thought you’d forgotten, since he’d never seen you wear it before—was tucked neatly in your hair. Your hair was done up in a soft, elegant style, and your skin had the faintest touch of makeup, just enough to catch the light. But it was your lips that held him—the color there made you look almost unreal. The colors of your clothes complemented your entire look.

You had asked your maid to dress you up a bit since it was the last day of the festival, and you should at least try for the final day.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there like an idiot, eyes stuck on you as if seeing some kind of holy vision. You shifted under his stare, unsure if you’d done too much—if maybe you looked stupid. (Even though the high priest complimented you when you were leaving, and even Daphne complimented you—as she was ready to leave with Phoebe to watch together.)

“…What?” you asked, voice barely above a murmur, glancing away.

Phainon blinked, like he forgot how to speak for a second. Then his mouth finally worked.

“You look—” he paused, letting out a breathy laugh as he stepped closer, “utterly beautiful, my lady.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice so small you almost doubted he heard it. But he did. He lowered his head, brushing a fingertip against the hairpin.

“The sun is no longer in the sky. You should show me the place before the fireworks start,” you said quickly, causing him to move back a little.

Phainon blinked, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Right,” he said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the stunned silence between you. “Come on then.”

He offered his hand again, more confidently this time, and you took it without hesitation. He led you to a beautiful spot with a clear view of the city. Even where the temple was located, the view wasn’t as clear as this place.

Not noticing, Phainon climbed onto a strong tree branch.

“My lady, give me your hand.”

Looking at him funny, still holding your hand out to him, you said, “Are you sure this is safe—”

You gasped, clutching his arm for balance as you settled beside him on the sturdy branch.

“How much strength do you have?” you asked, surprised—is he even human?

Phainon chuckled softly, the sound warm and steady in the quiet dusk. “More than you’d expect,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ve been climbing trees since I was a child. This is nothing.”

Before you could say anything, the first firework burst in the distance—an explosion of scarlet and gold rippling across the night sky. Phainon’s hand tightened around yours, warm and steady.

“It’s beautiful,” you said randomly, in awe at the pretty symbols and colors.

Phainon, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about the fireworks. Seeing the joy in your expression made him so happy—the way your lipstick-colored lips were slightly parted and your eyes sparkled as the colors reflected in them.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he said quietly, voice barely above the crackling fireworks, making your heart skip a beat.

You looked at him then, the words sinking in. His face leaned toward yours, causing a stomach full of butterflies. He stared at you with half-lidded eyes, hands moving to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“May I, (Name)?” he whispered, his voice a mere breath against your lips, cheeks flushed.

You loved the way he said your name, like it was the most precious thing in the world—making your heart ache in the sweetest way. Without a word, you nodded, barely daring to breathe.

Phainon’s hand lingered for a moment before he closed the distance, his lips soft and warm against yours. His fingers tangled lightly in your hair, fiddling with the hairpin as the kiss deepened—very slow, as if he wanted this moment to last forever.

Your makeup was smudged after your kisses—your lips slightly swollen, the color of your lipstick smeared a little. The hairpin he had given you was slightly askew, and your cheeks still burned from what had transpired.

You and Phainon had stayed up in that tree long after the fireworks ended, talking about random things, stealing glances, and kissing again (a few more times after that). It was only when the night grew too cold and passed the temple’s curfew that he finally helped you down, his hands lingering on your waist a second too long before letting go.

The walk back was quiet, filled with hand-holding and soft laughter. Phainon walked you all the way to the temple gates, his fingers brushing against yours one last time before he bowed his head.

“Goodnight, my lady,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unspoken.

You barely managed a reply before slipping inside, your heart still racing. Walking silently through the halls—strangely, there were no guards or anyone waiting for you, just dead silence.

When you came close to your room, you were stunned to see Phoebe stepping out, her expression so severe you’d have thought you’d killed a family member of hers.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, with slow, deliberate steps, she moved toward you. The flickering torchlight cast sharp shadows across her face, making her expression unreadable.

“Sister (Name),” she said, her voice eerily calm. “How… convenient that you return now.”

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice steady. “Phoebe. What are you doing in my room?”

Her lips twitched—not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. “Looking for you, of course.” She tilted her head, eyes raking over your disheveled state—the smudged makeup, the loose strands of hair, the way your lips were still faintly swollen. “Though I suppose I should have known where you really were.”

“Sister (Name),” she spat your name with such hatred, “did you spread your legs for that man? Is that why you’re late?”

“Excuse me?” you said, eyes wide as if she were insane.

Phoebe took another step forward, closing the space between you until the fabric of her robes brushed against yours. “I asked if you spread your legs for him when you said you were going to watch the fireworks. If you admit it and ask for forgiveness, perhaps Lord Khaslana won’t give you such a painful death for committing adultery.”

Her breath was hot against your face. The corner of your mouth curled upward—slow and off-kilter—into a smile, though you were in utter disbelief.

“You’re meant to be one of three wives and saints, but you dress and act like a prostitute, seducing any man who even looks at you?”

She just kept on talking.

Instantly, the back of your hand connected with her face.

A sharp crack echoed faintly in the empty corridor.

Phoebe staggered back, eyes wide with shock and pain, clutching the side of her face where your blow had landed. She grabbed the collar of her dress and dragged herself close to your face.

“You can marry Lord Khaslana seven times over and bear all his children for all I care. But get it through your thick skull—I despise that man. Understand, or are you too damn stupid to?!” you spat in her face. You could see the fear behind her eyes.

Just as the last word left your lips, a sudden crack of thunder ripped through the night.

You couldn’t care less.

Comments and Reblogging are very appreciated!!

[veyveyx]

that was yummy

[jestersprivilegee]

High and Dry | ch. 12

t. jefferson x reader

Wc: 3.4k-ish

Chat this went a different direction than I had planned but I’m pretty happy w how it turned out. Anyway I have a req for a blurb for this fic that I’m gonna start working on 🤭🤭

“What are we getting again?” Thomas asked, trailing next to you in the almost barren grocery store. The only other occupants were the two workers unlucky enough to work on Christmas Eve, and fathers who were sent to retrieve forgotten food items. One person had a cart filled to the brim with alcohol and their hood pulled up. Yikes.

“Shit for peppermint cookies. Oh, and the collard greens your mom asked for,” you replied, grabbing a pack of butter and tossing it in the cart. “There's, what, twelve people in your family, including you?”

“That math checks out,” he watched you pause and grab another pack of butter. “How many cookies are you makin’?”

“Enough for fourteen people. So a lot.”

“Fourteen?”

“Well, I guess thirteen since Isham is too young–ah shit, your sisters have husbands and kids, don't they?” You winced, doing more mental math. Eventually you didn't care–tripling the recipe should be enough for everyone to have some, and for you to package a dozen to bring to your mom. And maybe enough for you to take home and indulge in.

“That they do. Don’t worry too much, sweetheart, we have a billion other desserts. Why did you wanna make these, anyway?”

You reached up to grab the cocoa powder, struggling because they kept black cocoa on the top shelf, right out of reach. Thomas put a hand on your hip, coming up behind you and grabbing it. The way his hands fit so perfectly around your waist made your heart skip a beat and flooded your brain with thoughts you didn't want to think. And god, he smelt good. He always did.

“T-thanks,” you stammered, “my mom asked me to make them last minute. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he gave you a quizzical look. “They must be good if she's askin’ you to bring ‘em. Speaking of which, when are you seeing her?”

“We'll stop by tomorrow, on the way back home. And they are fucking good.”

He laughed, “I don't doubt it. She still in the same house?”

Fuck, he didnt know, did he? Technically, that house was under her name. She just was temporarily living somewhere else. So technically you could say yes, she is in the same house. Even though she’s cooped up in a mental ward because her own thoughts made her go crazy (maybe a little over dramatic, but oh well).

“Uhhh… yeah, let’s go with that,” you mumbled, moving onto the next item. His eyebrows furrowed deeply, because why did you seem so hesitant to answer?

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing? She’s still in the same house,” you doubled down, glaring at him and growing defensive. “What do you think, white chocolate or dark chocolate?”

He frowned. “Y/n, is she struggling financially? Because if she needs help—“

“She’s fine, Thomas,” you cut in. He flinched at the sharpness in your tone and the harsh stare you were giving him. “Just—just drop it, okay?”

He sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was change the subject, because now he was worried for the stability of not just your mom, but you as well. He had heard you briefly mention therapy to Alex, so he knew you were already having some sort of problem. If she wasn’t doing well, it would probably affect your mental wellbeing, and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being stressed out over money.

“Alright,” he acquiesced. You held up the different bags of chocolate. “How ‘bout both?”

“Good idea,” you smiled, still feeling a little tense. The items dropped into the basket with a thud and you searched for peppermint flavoring. Thomas went quiet for the remainder of the trip. It was awkward as hell, and you hated it, because what was going on in that pretty little head of his? Why was it so hard to decipher the meaning behind the downward tug of his lips?

He knew you were too stubborn to admit what was wrong. It was always that way. So he shouldn't be disappointed when you refused to answer what was going on with your mom. After all, it wasn’t any of his business. He would drop you off, probably wait in the car for god knows how long, and then you'd drive home together. No more fake-dating, no more playing around with each other; it’d be right back to work. He hated knowing it would be right back to work. The relationship he found himself rebuilding was one he liked. He valued you more than he would admit, and he could only hope you'd see it.

–

“Real couples bake together,” Thomas pouted, carrying almost all the grocery bags in. “We need to amp it up a bit anyway. Be more couple-like, you know?”

“Was the kiss on the forehead not enough for you?” You teased, setting the plastic bags on the counter. The kitchen was empty, save for the turkey and ham cooking in the oven and the various foods his mother was making.

“Did it affect you so much that you're still thinking about it?” He smirked. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Mr. Just-as-beautiful-as-Tommy-described,” you quoted his mom from last night. His smirk dropped and he was overwhelmed with hot embarrassment. “Don’t think I forgot about that.”

“Well what did you want me to tell her? That you’re the most hideous thing I've ever laid my eyes on?” He sassed, unpacking the groceries and sliding the items for the cookies over to you.

“No. I’m just flattered you think I'm pretty.”

He scoffed at the way you batted your eyelashes, looking up at him with such a smug, satisfied smile that all he wanted to do was wipe off. “Don’t let it get to your head, sweetheart.”

“Too late. My ego has been doubled.” You paused for a moment, debating the question on your mind. “So what about me do you think is pretty?”

“Oh god, are you seriously trying to do this?” He groaned, watching your grin widen. “How ‘bout you tell me who you were obsessed with when we were fourteen and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Now it was his turn to smirk. You shifted, facing away from him and distracting yourself by searching for a bowl. “Not happening, Jefferson. Where do you keep the bowls?”

“That’s too bad then, I guess you’ll never know,” he hummed, reaching under a counter and grabbing a large glass bowl. “Was it Joseph?” He asked, standing directly behind you and wrapping his large hands around your waist. His chin came to rest on your shoulder, and fuck it just got so much harder to focus. Measuring ingredients has never been this difficult.

“No. Hell no, he was annoying.” Your voice was squeakier than intended. Why were you so nervous? It was just Thomas. The proximity of him shouldn't make your heart stutter the way it did. “This isn’t necessary, you know?”

“I know,” he mumbled, his voice low in your ear. Despite the acknowledgement, he didn’t move. “It’s part of the act, sweetheart. Just go with it.”

“Thomas, there’s no one else around,” you pointed out, fluffing up the butter before cracking a couple eggs into it. Baking was supposed to be meditative, but right now it felt like a high-pressure scenario with a certain someone looming over your shoulder.

He huffed. “Well maybe I just wanted to hug you. Sue me.”

You froze. Why was he being so… affectionate? And why in hell were you letting it happen? You could've pushed him away by now; you should've pushed him away by now. It felt way too good to have his arms tightened around your torso, and that feeling was dangerous. It was worrisome how enjoyable it was.

“...Why?”

He shrugged, loosening his grip ever so slightly. “Tell me who you liked first and maybe I'll tell you that, too.”

“Why are you so insistent on knowing? We were fourteen, it's not like it mattered.” A small frown tugged at your lips. Couldn’t he just drop it already?

“Because I’m a little hurt you never told me at the time,” he said. “C’mon, we were best friends. We told each other everything, but you didn’t tell me about this boy-crazy phase?”

Shit, he had a point, but telling him would’ve meant confessing your feelings, which you did not want to do. It’s understandable he’s upset considering he told you about his crushes. God, it's such a childish subject. Surprisingly nostalgic, and part of you loved the thrill of feeling like you’re in high school again, pining over your best friend and getting giddy every time he texted.

Finally, you sighed, giving in. “If I tell you, do you promise not to pester me about it anymore?”

He perked up, and for a split second you missed the weight of his chin against your shoulder. “Promise. And I’ll keep my other half of the deal, too.”

An embarrassed noise rumbled from your throat as you choked out the words, “it was you, Thomas. You were my childhood crush.”

Now it was his turn to freeze. And your mind immediately started overthinking it, because that’s what it does best. You waited for him to react, opening mint extract and measuring it with your heart. The sweet scent wafted from the bottle and reminded him of where he was and what just happened.

“But… you were my childhood crush,” he muttered.

Hold on. Put a pause on this conversation. He liked you? And he was only just now saying something?

Thomas took a step back, and you turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed. “Seriously? But I thought–you always had crushes on other girls.”

“And you always had crushes on other guys,” he countered.

For a moment, neither of you were sure of what to do next. For a moment, you stared at each other, processing the information shared.

“Well it's a good thing it worked out in the end!” Martha chimed in, a cheeky grin on her face.

A light gasp escaped you, startled by the sudden appearance of the young girl. Jesus, this is the second time she's done that. You really need to be careful with what you talk about in this house. Is anywhere safe? Thomas cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from you to glare at his sister.

“Can you stop eavesdropping on our conversations, please?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I just came down here to get some water and heard you talking. Cut me some slack.”

There was a flicker of annoyance in Thomas’s sharp jaw. You hoped that was all she heard. If she saw you getting mad at Thomas hugging you paired with the fact that she barged in on your hallway talk with him, she could connect the dots and potentially narc. And working with 14 and 15 year olds all day every day, you are aware of their intelligence. They’re young adults, not toddlers, and Martha in particular was pretty bright. It made sense; the Jefferson’s are a well-educated family.

“That’s cute though, you were each other's childhood crushes and now you’re together,” she said, grabbing a glass and taking her time to fill it up. You glanced at Thomas, a little disappointed that the moment got interrupted. He was supposed to fill out his other end of the deal, after all. “It’s like the ultimate childhood friends to lovers story.”

“We’re a lucky couple, aren't we?” He said through gritted teeth, hooking his arm around your hip to pull you to his side.

Was it normal for your heart to be beating that fast? Or for your shoulders to be that tense? Surely not. Perhaps you should get that checked out by a doctor. “That we are,” you nodded, putting a hand on his chest and leaning into the act.

Martha raised an eyebrow, her nose scrunching in a mixture of disgust and confusion. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Thomas immediately stammered, his eyes widening. “Weird? We’re acting perfectly normal, what do you–”

“Never mind, I just realized I don't care,” she cut him off, side-eyeing him while walking out of the kitchen. “Continue your… activities, please.”

When she was out of sight, a breath you didn't know you were holding was released. You became acutely aware of Thomas's grip on your waist, the hand you held over his racing heart, and the warmth radiating from him. You decided to detach from him since the only people in the kitchen were you and him, and it didn’t make sense to keep up the act.

An awkward silence enveloped the room as you turned back to the cookie dough, eyes wide but making no move to work on them. ‘What the hell just happened. He liked me? Seriously?’ Your mind was racing a million thoughts per second, and Thomas must’ve sensed it.

He took a deep inhale, collected himself, then spoke in that husky voice of his. “So, I guess we both liked each other, then.”

You swallowed thickly, “I guess so. How come you never said anything?”

“Never knew how, I suppose,” he shrugged. “How ‘bout you? What’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t want to lose you as a friend–but I guess that happened anyway, didn’t it?” You muttered the last part to yourself before continuing, “and someone always had a crush on you. Always. I figured you’d choose someone way prettier or more popular, and well, you did.”

Guilt flashed in his eyes at the thought of his ex-girlfriend, Kirsten. The same girl he put way too much trust in after a few months of dating, mostly because she kept threatening to break up with him and tarnish his reputation by spreading rumors; the same girl who he seldom got along with because her interests were nothing like his; the same girl who cheated on him with the Basketball captain. He was a fool to trust her word over yours, and it cost him the most valuable friend he’s ever had. Part of him knew you would never ruin his chance at a scholarship, anyway. You weren’t the type to get all psycho-jealous and do that.

“She was not prettier than you, Y/n,” he said.

“Half the school was obsessed with her. She had modeling gigs at sixteen. Tell me again how I’m prettier than the perfect little angel-model?” You deadpanned, crossing your arms.

He sighed, rubbing his nose bridge in slight frustration. “One, Kirsten wasn’t an angel. Far fucking from it. That girl was the devil in disguise. Two, she modeled once before that career went down the drain. Three, her personality was so horrendous it made her ugly. And you… god, you were the nicest person I’d ever met. You’re gorgeous, you always were, and you had this nerdy, downtown vibe that made it impossible not to like you. Seriously. When we stopped being friends, some of my guy friends said they were disappointed that you were still ‘off-limits’ because they were supposed to hate you for what happened.”

“You know it wasn't true, right?”

His breath caught in his throat. “The whole trying-to-ruin-my-scholarship thing?”

“Yeah. I never reported you,” you paused. “Thomas, if your girlfriend wasn’t as great as she seemed, why did you believe her over me? I-I know it was a while ago, and we should put it behind us, but still. I just can't… I can't get over that.”

There goes his nervous habit of fidgeting with his rings. He wiped his hands on his sweater before speaking. “I don't know. Peer pressure? She kept pushing and pushing and I just… ugh. I hate that I let that happen. I should’ve defended you more–”

“Defended me more? Thomas, you didn’t defend me in the first place! Half our fucking grade turned on me because of that goddamn rumor!” You snapped, voice raising a little. His eyes widened and he gave you a motion, ushering you to dial it down a bit.

“You think I wanted that to happen? It got way out of hand and I tried, Y/n, I really did try to defend you,” he seethed in a hushed whisper. “I would always tell them to stop if they were talking shit about you. And I shut down as many rumors as I could, but after I broke up with Kirsten, it was out of my control. I fucking tried, and–and I’m sorry that happened to you. It shouldn't have. I never wanted you to get so hurt to the point of therapy. I should’ve handled it better, but we were kids. Neither of us knew better. And I’m not sayin’ this to excuse my actions, they were horrible and wrong. But I did the best with what I had, Y/n, and I truly am sorry.”

You were silent throughout the whole rant. His emotions had hit their peak, then calmed down to a whole-hearted apology. You could hear it in his voice, and see it in his eyes that he meant it. The long awaited apology was finally delivered, and you weren’t too sure how to process it. First of all, you had no idea he would shut it down when people talked about you. If anything, he would’ve been the ring leader starting up the conversations. Second, how the hell did he know you’re in therapy? It's not just for dealing with the low self esteem you established in high school, you wanted to tell him that there was so much more to it than that, but there was no point in revealing that to him. Despite every voice screaming at you not to trust him, to turn back and not believe anything he says, you caved.

“I… I forgive you.”

Those three words. You almost choked trying to get them out.

His eyes softened with hope, and a small smile replaced his deep frown.

“And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn't have held it against you all these years. It just… it felt like I would be betraying myself if I ever forgave you. Like I would betray her. She had no one to stand up for her when she needed it most. I thought if I was rude to you, untrusting and whatnot, it would feel like revenge. God, that sounds twisted now that I’m saying it out loud.” You laughed, but it was dry. Humorless.

“No, it’s okay, I get it. And I’ve been a dick this year, too, so I’m not exactly innocent in that aspect. I’m sorry,” he bit his lower lip sheepishly, “so… are we good? No more fightin’?”

“Yes,” you smiled, “we’re good, Thomas. ‘M tired of fighting anyway.”

His grin spread wider, and he opened his arms out for a hug. “Alright, bring it in.”

“The hell–no!” You grimaced, giggling a bit. He ignored your protests and wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you into his broad chest.

“Thought you were tired of fighting?” He teased. You huffed, reluctantly relaxing in his embrace and hugging him back.

Even though you shouldn't, because you're treading in dangerous water by doing this.

“I am. Which is the only reason I’m giving into this, so don't get it twisted. We are not friends, Jefferson, just no longer beefing.” You affirmed, getting overwhelmed with his scent. Was it bad cedar and pine might be your new favorite smell?

“Right,” he cleared his throat, pulling off of you, “of course. Wouldn't wanna jump too far ahead, would we?”

Despite his words, there was a clear dissatisfaction in his eyes. Like what you said hurt him, and in all honesty, it hurt you, too. When they left your mouth, you weren't sure you believed it. Because even though you said you’re not friends, only–shit, you don't even know what you are–it felt the opposite. Deep down, you both knew it wasn't true. Yet neither of you would acknowledge it.

“No,” you confirmed, turning around. “Wanna try some dough?”

His smile was a thin disguise to hide his sadness, but he went along with it anyway.

“Oh, and I’m still waiting to hear how pretty I am.”

[veyveyx]

CLAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being a witch and dating Parker Robbins

Parker Robbins x reader

warnings: ironheart spoilerz

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: "Can I request Parker Robbins x reader, dating hcs? Maybe a witch in (dark magic) practice reader?"

you met parker not too long after he made his deal with mephisto

you were drawn to him, actually

the power of the cloak he wore was quite noticable

on a mission one night, you spawned behind him

"i nearly killed you! who are you?" -parker

"kill me? please, you'd be lucky to touch me" -you

he was confused by the insinuation until you used your magic to save him while he was distracted

you wanted to know more about how he acquired something imbued with such dark magic

and he realized he could use you on his team

"you looking for a job by any chance?" -parker

you decided to accept out of curiousity

and you were fawned over by the gang

"dark magic? did you like choose that or did that choose you?" -stu

"why? would you like to join my cult of evil witches?" -you, sarcastically while brandishing purple magic

"oh, hell, no" -stu, running away

parker ended up trusting you enough to get close

you weren't in it for the money, but you were in it for power

but parker wanted your power, too

"you wanna see it? the hood?" -parker

"you know i do" -you

you saw the cloak in a different way than him, admired it more. admired him more.

"you're...fascinating" -you

"how so?" -parker

"a very powerful person trusted you with this. in exchange for what?" -you

"a second chance, in a way" -parker

"well, this is quite a chance" -you

"you like that, huh?" -parker

you picked up on his flirting fast. wasn't really that subtle

he didnt want it to be either

"i'm pretty into it, yeah" -you

"glad to hear it" -parker, getting closer "you're not like anyone i've ever met before"

"i know, i'm one of a kind" -you

"i want to be one of a kind with you" -parker

he was your number one admirer after this

he didn't want to be away from you, you were so intoxicating

and your powers made you even more valuable

it wasnt a transactional relationship, but it didn't help

he teased. a lot

if you argued, he knew what buttons to press

"what are you gonna do, cast a spell on me?" -parker

"don't tempt me, i'll turn you into a frog" -you

"no, you wouldn't. you'd miss my handsome face too much" -parker

"yeah, maybe i'll just turn you to stone" -you

you referred to the gang as your "coven"

"we should totally go down the witch's road" -you

"what's that?" -slug

"i'm soooo glad you asked" -you

you then lore dumped for like 2 hours about the witch's road

parker loved the story though, talked to you about it all night

"i'd go down the road with you" -parker, running his fingers through your hair

"what would you go for?" -you

"i'd get even more power, do some good with it even" -parker

"what's mephisto like?" -you

"he's kind of suave, real cocky, too" -parker

"that's it?" -you

"well, he's like, the devil, there's not much more to say" -parker

you monitored the effects of the magic he used

"parker. it's killing you" -you

"i'm fine, baby, don't worry. soon, i won't even need it" -parker

"that's not how the price works" -you

"well, i have you to save me" -parker

"i don't think i can save you from this, parker" -you

"well then just pretend you can. for me." -parker

he'd watch over you while you meditated, casted spells, worked your magic

make sure you were safe

"you were out a long time, i was getting worried" -parker, coming up to hug you tight from behind

"it takes time, baby. not all of us get magic capes" -you

once the jobs started getting more serious, so did you

and thats when riri was recruited

she called bs on your magic until you started messing with her head

"oh, no, don't do that again. i didn't like that. hell no" -riri

"y/n, what'd i tell you about casting spells on the crew?" -parker

"i can only cast them on you" -you, winking

"later" -parker, winking back

you often felt mischievous and would play a few harmless(ish) pranks—which parker actually found funny

"can you take this seriously?" -john

"where's the fun in that?" -you

"it's not, it's business." -john

"leave it alone john" -parker

"let them get away with everything, huh?" -john

"you're just jealous" -you, taunting

you were super important on missions, protecting people, fighting people without being traced (magic energy is hard to track), using telekinesis, controlling enemies

it honestly made the team a little uncomfortable but they didn't want to speak up

"you should blow that up" -clown

"isn't that more you're m.o.?" -you

"yes, but you do it in purple!" -clown

once the bigger paydays started, you decided to visit stantons candy, reads, & more—your favorite magic store

owners were a little put off by you, but respected you nonetheless

"what are you looking for today, y/n?" -zelma

"working on some new spells, need some supplies" -you, pulling out a list a few pages long

parker would mess with your supplies and you'd scold him

"did you put a love potion on me?" -parker

"uh, no? why would you ask that?" -you

"cuz im seriously so in love with you" -parker

"okay, sappy" -you "why don't you help me mix a few things"

"then you'll come to bed?" -parker

"yes, dear." -you, sarcastically

you grew wary of riri early on, but parker forbid you from looking into it

said "we trust each other around here"

you wish he would have listened to you bc she became a major pain in the ass

he begged you to bring john back when he died, but your magic had limits

"i—parker, i can't. there are rules, and he wont be the same. death changes a person" -you

he was upset you wouldn't do it for him

but he wanted revenge now

and you could help him with that

you begged for his forgiveness nonetheless, he was mourning though

"parker, baby, we're so close now. get it together, okay?" -you

"i know. i just don't like loose ends" -parker

he was getting bad, and the dark magic he'd been using was harming him, starting to spread even more

you were desperate to save him

so while he was finishing his mission, you were paid a visit by mephisto

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 // @lenaelleu //

[veyveyx]

PARKER PARKER PARKER PARKER RAHHHHHH

I LITERALLY BARK FOR ANTHONY RAMOS (i've read every parker fic on every fanfic website i can find)

[littlesunshine1223]

How’re we feeling about Ant’s newest (upcoming) character The Hood (from IronHeart)?

He’s so fine. He’s so damn fine. 😳 I have a lot of things to say but not a single one is even remotely appropriate 🫣

(I wanna watch the series so bad but Disney plus is out of my budget at the moment😭)

[veyveyx]

hes so fine

[veyveyx]

what music do people actually listen to. like, i went through MANY phases

in no particular order, just as i think of them

1. the beatles

2. paramore

3. fleetwood mac

4. chappell roan

5. v tuber music?? (i am ashamed)

6. mitski (always and forever)

7. steve lacy?? (i love amandlas interlude)

8. abba?

11. snow patrol?

9. radiohead (specifically in rainbows and ok computer)

10. oasis?

12. van halen

13. k pop (mostly basic stuff like skz , bts and black pink)

14. arctic monkeys

15. the arcane s2 soundtrack?

16. tyler tc??

and they just rotate over and over and over occasionally with something new.

[starkwlkr]

the girls are fighting!! | toto wolff

an: because i’m seeing oasis this year, i thought it would be nice to make this pls don’t hate me, i love the spice girls!! (i only know one of their songs) fun fact: the original idea for this was that the reader was a grunge singer from the 90s but ever since the oasis reunion was announced that’s literally all i can think about

oasis member!reader

INSTAGRAM

liked by yourusername, britpopcults and others

f1updatingdaily f1 twitter recently brought up the feud that y/n l/n (oasis bassist and toto wolff’s wife) and geri halliwell (spice girls member and christian horner’s wife) had in the late 90s until 2019. y/n recently told rolling stone magazine that her and geri have love for each other now and attend races together when they can. while at least one horner and wolff settled their differences, christian horner and toto wolff continue the horner/wolff rivalry that was started by their wives.

hereswonderwall I’m not a big fan of the spice girls but when geri gave y/n the future trophy wife mug . . . it was iconic

y/nupdates y/n and geri: 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 toto and christian: 😡🤮

hamilton444 got a picture with y/n and geri in monaco last year! they were so nice and even facetimed my mum! she’s a big oasis and spice girls fan

feelgoodbitch toto and christian will never work it out on the remix

load more comments

liked by lewishamilton, gerihalliwellhorner and others

yourusername i guess gerihalliwellhorner was right 🙃

gerihalliwellhorner 😅😅

liamgallagher you traded the bass for fancy shite??

yourusername i would trade you for a strawberry

liamgallagher rude

yourusername see you in may for rehearsal! don’t be late you old man xx

mercedesamgf1 that’s my wife! - toto

ferraridepressionclub manifesting a divorce so i can keep y/n to myself

mercedesamgf1 blocked and reported

ferraridepressionclub WAIT NOOOO

load more comments

[veyveyx]

yum 😋

[demi-goshdamnit]

Claiming

[this was supposed to be a silly little headcanon, but now it's a semi-story wtf]

When you arrived to camp, you stayed in Hermes' cabin for a while where Luke took care of helping you settle down. The days grew longer as you waited for your godly parent to claim you, and yet to no avail. Luke did his best to cheer you up, and after wallowing in your emotions for too long, you accepted his help and lived a semi-normal life in the camp.

You would train with Luke in the arena, first with swords, but when you realised that daggers were more your style, Luke brought in his little sister, Annabeth, to help you. She was a tiny girl, but she took your training very seriously, as expected by a Child of Athena. By the end of your third week in camp, you had mastered all you can wielding a dagger.

Throughout the days, you and Luke have gotten into shenanigans— he mostly pulls you in when he's planning pranks on the other kids, or even Chiron— and you honestly forget that you're still an unclaimed child.

That was until Drew, the daughter of Aphrodite, accidentally did more damage than anticipated with her charmspeak on an unlucky daughter of Hephaestus.

Silena dealt with Drew in their own Aphrodite-like way, but Charles had trouble consoling his little sister from the manipulation she went through. Luke had brought you to visit Charles and his sister at the infirmary, to see how she was doing, when you got the urge to sit next to the poor girl and ask the boys to leave the room. Although Charles was hesitant about leaving you alone with his sister, Luke put a hand on his shoulder and convinced him to go outside.

Once you and the little girl, Sarah, we're alone, you started talking about your day, telling her all about strawberry picking with Luke and Annabeth for her to enjoy. She seemed to enjoy the sweet fruit you brought for her, and it gave you the opening you were looking for.

After a gentle prod with your words, Sarah opened up about what happened to her. How Drew and some of the meaner Aphrodite kids used their charmspeak on her to make her do whatever they wanted. At first it would be small things like cleaning their room or getting them drinks, but it soon turned into more and more humiliating orders until Drew took it a step too far.

You grew angry at what happened to Sarah and wanted to storm into that garishly pink cabin and give Drew a piece of your mind. Yet, as you stared into Sarah's teary eyes, you couldn't help but give her the warmest hug you have and let her cry her pain into you. There was a soft, golden glow coming from your chest, but neither you nor Sarah noticed, too caught up in the comforting hug.

Sarah looked tremendously better than earlier, her small smile brightening her adorable face and her giggle melodious as you pinch her cheeks. At the sound of her laughter, Charles and Luke, with Will by their side, barged into the room and were dumbfounded to see you tickle Sarah's sides.

While Charles was happy that his little sister was feeling a lot better, Luke and Will were gobsmacked at the sight of Apollo's Lyre hovering above your head.

Luke felt a sharp sting of jealousy when Will exclaimed and hugged you tightly, and resisted the urge to drag the blond off of you since you looked so happy to finally have a place in the camp. After you and Will talk about moving your stuff into the Apollo Cabin— Luke frowned at that— you jumped at him and hugged him with all your might, you happiness quite literally making you glow from the inside and simultaneously making Luke warm and relaxed.

[Later down the line, Luke asks you to join him to get revenge on the gods and use your powers to emotionally manipulate convince the gods to change. When you refuse, Kronos kills you with Luke's hand, leaving Luke to live with the emotional pain you would've gladly taken away for him.]

[veyveyx]

that ending is so deliciously horrible and i want it so bad

[maxivstappen]

DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING ?

[ masterlist / requests closed ]

☽｡⋆ distance can lead to stupid, reckless decisions. but lando knows better than that, right? — lando norris x reader based on “did you like her in the morning” by nikki

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst 𝄞 1.7k words

You loved a loud life just the same as he did. You enjoyed the traveling, the partying, the sleepless nights, hell, even the stressful nights you wouldn’t trade for a peaceful, quiet, boring, normal life. You were eternally grateful for having a job surrounding the same tracks Lando is driving on, even if that was rather a lucky coincidence instead of a thought-through plan.

You loved it not only because it meant you’d get to be close to your boyfriend most of the time, more so because you got to experience the loudness with him. The parties, the race weekends, just everything. You’d have it without him too, and no doubt, you would have tons of fun doing so, but of course it’s better with a “super cool hot famous boyfriend” by your side, as he liked to call himself.

You loved it, until you couldn’t anymore.

Not as dramatic as it sounds. You were invited to a wedding of an old friend back at home, and Lando, for obvious reasons, couldn’t attend with you, so you flew out the country by yourself, giving Lando one last good luck kiss a few days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix. You missed him dearly, but you also missed your friends at home whom you haven’t seen in what felt like forever, and really, what’s a better reason for a reunion than a wedding?

But that’s where the trouble began.

You liked to call yourself independent. Very independent, even. You didn’t have a problem with being far from Lando for a few weeks, and while you of course loved him more than anyone else in this world, you’ve stated before that in case of you losing the job for whatever reason or if you just couldn’t travel with him anymore, you’d think a long distance relationship would work just well. At least for you.

Of course, the constant missing your partner would complicate things, but that’s still no reason to break up a relationship that has lasted for longer than three years already. At least that’s what you thought.

Lando liked to call himself independent too. Very independent, even. Too bad it’s all a lie.

Lando has always hated the idea of being away from you, or rather the idea of you being far from him. It’s not like he didn’t have any trust in you, it’s just become normal for him to always have you at least somewhat in his reach. That’s how your relationship has always been, you were coworkers before you were lovers.

He didn’t mind you taking a few days off. He also didn’t mind you wanting to spend some time with your family and friends who were still located far, far away from wherever you two would usually have to travel to for the many races. However, he did mind you not being near him.

It bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

You’ve talked about it before, talked about him being too needy and too possessive from time to time, but never once have you two fought about it. You thought you never would, and you were right. Your departure was slightly painful for the both of you, but it was only 2 weeks that you‘d be gone, and it’s not at all like you couldn’t stay in contact. So there was nothing to worry about, right?

Or so you thought.

The moment you arrived at you local airport you saw your mom run up to you, caging you in her arms as if to never let you go again. Your father wasn’t far behind, and then came your brother. It was a sweet little moment of a family reuniting as a whole again. And even though you wanted to set your whole focus on the few next days to come, the lovely wedding and the friends you once lost on the way who you’d now finally see again, Lando never really left your mind. You just didn’t understand why, you weren’t usually like this.

Maybe it was just that after five years of knowing each other and three of those spent dating, you did grow somewhat dependent. you knew it wasn’t the truth, but blaming it on a simple thing like that seemed terribly easier than giving in to the thoughts of what could actually be the cause of it. You didn’t have any time for that. You weren’t here to think about work or about Lando, but about the things that were right in front of your eyes, which at this moment was the beautiful white wedding decorated with all sorts of flowers of sunset hues.

The wedding was held on a beach, surrounded by the dreamy sound of waves crashing and seagulls singing their own nupital melodies. You arrived with one of your old friends Nina, both of you wearing long and flowy pastel dresses, just as the dress code ordered you to. The day went on with you two crying at seeing one of your childhood friends getting married, listening to the heartfelt vows of bride and groom.

Your mind immediately went to Lando and you standing at the altar like they did. You knew it was too soon, and you knew he didn’t have time for marriage, even less for planning a wedding, but you still couldn’t help it. You really did miss him more this time, and throughout the whole ceremony, the feeling of something being incredibly off only intensed.

But the night came, and the feeling faded. Or at least the drinks made it do that.

You were sitting with Nina and two guys you used to be very close with at the dim bar near the dance floor when you suddenly noticed something light up inside your purse. You didn’t mind it at first, not wanting to be rude towards Tom who was trying to talk to you without stumbling over his word completely, but the shots you downed beforehand made it undoubtedly harder.

Your phone lit up again. Slowly getting on your nerves, you decided to wait until Tom’s attention was fixated on Nina again to then check your messages and - missed calls?

—

Lando hated how his mood changed whenever you were gone. It felt as if there was something missing when you weren’t there waiting for him at home after debriefing or after PR events and whatnot. He missed your hugs and kisses, your smile and most importantly, just your touch.

Truth be told - but never to you - when you first started dating, for Lando, the thriving point was attraction. One month in, that’s when he realized that he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. Not that he minded. Two months in and the two of you made it official, of course not without any drama because how was a McLaren driver allowed to date a McLaren employee? Two weeks and the conversations and the hate online slowly died down, but your relationship kept on blooming. There was just one thing that somehow had Lando incredibly confused - why did your relationship suddenly feel more like you couldn’t get rid of him? Why did it feel like he was the one attached to you instead of the other way around?

Not that it felt bad or anything, he was just very used to have the girl being that dependent on him, to always want his attention, to always ask for his opinion on everything. Now he was the one all over you, and you didn’t mind it at all. You had the man you love wrapped tightly around your finger, just like he had you. For three years now.

But that didn’t help him right now, not with jealousy nagging at his side like a demon. You were out, enjoying your time with people you loved, and while he should be happy for you, he spent his time rather annoyed at you not being where he was. It’s only been a week, and work has already failed to keep his mind off of you. And he hated it. He knew it was the day of the wedding, and he was done wasting his time only thinking about you, so what else was there for a man to do instead of going clubbing with the guys? He hadn’t spent time with them in a long time, neither had he gone clubbing these past fem months, too caught up with Formula 1. So this would be okay, right? Just some drinks to keep his mind off of you.

Right?

—

15 missed calls from carlos sainz.

that was weird, you thought, and your stomach dropped and you felt the dread creeping up your consciousness. It had you feeling weaker than ever.

You quietly excused yourself to go to the bathroom, though every step towards it made it harder and harder to breathe.

What if something had happened to him? A work incident? Then how did Carlos know? Were they hanging out and he hurt himself? Were they out and someone there hurt Lando?

Did something happen to your Lando?

Your finger hovered shaking over the green button until you finally decided to press it and call the Ferrari driver back. Not even a single beep was heard before he huffed out your name as if he had been yearning for you to finally phone him back.

“Carlos? Is everything okay?” The Spaniard could practically feel your distress through the screen and he swore he’s never felt an urge so strong to punch someone right across their face, let alone his best friend Lando Norris.

It took some time for realization to set in. Your breathing had slowed down but the chills all over your body told that it was a sign far from good. Very far from good.

You could still make out the faint sound of Carlos’ voice as you locked the door of the bathroom stall furthest in the back, however, every word that came after “Lando cheated on you” somehow wasn’t comprehensive to you.

You just hope he’ll still like her in the morning, cause you, for sure, weren’t coming back.

[veyveyx]

i live for angst

its in my bones and my blood

[bvrnesher]

Hi! I hope you day is going well, could you do headcanons for Leo Valdez? Like, if he was Spider-Man and he had a crush on the reader please?

sure thing, babe!

SPIDER-MAN ! LEO VALDEZ

cw: none.

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ🌙ㅤ˳ 𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐳 ! 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

﹙𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆! ﹚ꪆ

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓-𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔?

Leo Valdez as spider-man would be chaotic. Chaotic Neighborhood Hero – If anyone thought normal Spider-Man was chaotic, they clearly haven’t seen Leo in action. He’s web-swinging upside down, making fire-powered aerial flips, and cracking way too many jokes mid-fight. Villains either get mad or give up from sheer frustration.

Leo Valdez who Flirts While Crime-Fighting – If you happen to be around when he’s in costume, he’s ten times more dramatic.

“Don’t worry, citizen! Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man has got this.”

“I know I look cool right now, but please, try not to fall for me.” (He totally hopes you do fall for him.)

Leo Valdez is like... Leo vs. His Own Secret Identity – He wants to tell you he’s Spider-Man, but also, he definitely wants to impress you as himself, too.

He’ll do stuff like accidentally mention something Spider-Man did, then awkwardly try to cover it up.

“Oh yeah, Spidey totally took down three guys in an alley yesterday—uh, I mean, I heard about that. From a...news thing. Haha.”

Leo Valdez who swings past your window every single night, even when he has no reason to be there. He’ll make up some excuse like “Just doing my patrol!” but he’s really just hoping to see you.

Leo Valdez who saves you once and is so smug about it.

“No need to thank me, mi amor—wait, actually, do thank me. Maybe with a kiss?”

Leo Valdez who panics every time you mention thinking Spider-Man is cool. Like, “Cool how? Cool in a ‘wow, I wanna date him’ way? Or cool in a ‘he’s a neat guy’ way?” Please clarify. It’s for science.

Leo Valdez who tries to act smooth around you but trips over his own webbing. One second, he’s flirting. The next, he’s flat on the ground, groaning. “You saw nothing.”

Leo Valdez who builds his own web-shooters and casually adds a mini flamethrower just because he can.

Leo Valdez who absolutely shows off whenever you’re around. Swings upside down, does unnecessary flips, probably almost crashes into a building because he’s too busy flirting with you mid-swing.

Leo Valdez who “casually” webs your hand so you have to hold his, and when you call him out, he just grins, “Oops. Guess we’re stuck like this forever.”

Leo Valdez who leaves you dumb, flirty notes written in webbing. You wake up to see “Good morning, beautiful ;)” webbed to your wall, and you have no proof it was him.

Leo Valdez who gets jealous of… himself. If you mention Spider-Man is cool, he plays it off like “Yeah, I mean, he’s alright.” Meanwhile, he’s internally screaming because yes, he is Spider-Man, but you don’t know that and it’s killing him.

Leo Valdez who literally forgets how to speak when you kiss him while he’s still in the mask.

His brain just short-circuits. Stands there, completely frozen, before finally stammering, “…Uh. Can you do that again?”

Leo Valdez and superhero Dates (Without You Knowing) – Since he’s not technically allowed to tell you, he still finds ways to protect and impress you as Spider-Man.

Walks you home while swinging overhead, just to make sure you’re safe.

If it’s raining, he accidentally webs an umbrella to you from above.

You keep getting “lucky” when bad guys show up, because Spidey just so happens to be nearby every time.

Leo Valdez who saves little bits of web fluid so he can make you cute, tiny web sculptures. (They don’t last forever, but he makes you new ones all the time—little hearts, flowers, or tiny robots just for you.)

Leo Valdez who literally melts when you tell him you already knew.

(“WAIT, YOU KNEW?! AND YOU LET ME EMBARRASS MYSELF FOR MONTHS?!”)

𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐, 𝒔.

[veyveyx]

reblog hour, this was delicious and i want more lowkey...

[toyourheartandback]

SKINNY DIPPING (18+)

luke castellan x reader

in which luke loves winning

word count: 1.12k

MDNI! warnings: smut, handjob, fingering, swearing, nudity and reader has a female anatomy

a/n: i feel like i’m starting to have way too much fun writing smuts. hope you guys will enjoy it just as i much as i do!

you had made a bet with luke castellan. whoever won capture the flag could make the other do anything they wanted without negotiation or backing out. and that was how you found yourself on the edge of a small cliff, just outside of the protection of thalia’s tree, watching the head counselor of the hermes cabin strip in front of you.

“c’mon, beautiful” he said with a smug smirk on his face as he grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head, tossing it aside without a care. you let your eyes scan his toned abs a bit longer than you intended as the moonlight highlighted the sharp lines and faded scars. “it’s not like i haven’t seen it before” he drawled, fingers now working at the button of his shorts.

your hands hesitated at the hem of your own shirt. “i swear, if anything happens, i’m cutting your balls off” you warned, voice sharp despite the heat creeping up your neck. luke only laughed, clearly enjoying every second of his victory while his gaze never left you as you reluctantly peeled off your clothes. then you were both bare in front of each other. you could see all those hours he spent training were definitely paying off as the sight alone made your stomach twist, heat creeping in places you didn’t want to acknowledge. luke wasn’t any better, looking at you with unmistakable lust.

you took the hand he offered, fingers tangling together as you stepped closer to the edge. “you okay?” luke gently asked, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. his dark eyes were as soft as his touch. the night breeze ruffled his curls and for a split second you almost forgot to breathe. the drop below wasn’t even terrifying, but the handsome boy in front of you was. then you smirked. “don’t be a pussy, castellan” and before he could react, you yanked him forward, pulling both of you off the edge.

you flew for only a few seconds before the icy water swallowed you whole and a firm grip pulled you upward. “asshole!” luke’s voice was sharp as he surfaced in front of you, his wet curls plastered to his forehead. his scowl would’ve been more intimidating if you weren’t still laughing, breathless from the jump. “oh, come on” you teased, grabbing his wrist as he let you tug him toward shallower water.

his hands pushed wet strands from your face before cupping your cheeks, his touch surprisingly gentle. his thumbs traced your skin, sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of the water. “you’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he murmured, voice low and serious. your heart stuttered. his plump lips hovered dangerously close, so close you had to grip his biceps just to steady yourself. “you’re gonna be the death of me right now if you don’t kiss me” just as you whispered those words, luke crashed his lips against yours, claiming the space between you in an instant.

the kiss was desperate, heated, like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he’d ever admit. and gods, you kissed him right back. his tongue slipped into your mouth, teasing, demanding, but there was no real battle. you let him take control, let him deepen the kiss until your head spun. his hands roamed your body, before settling on your ass. a firm squeeze had you gasping, your hips instinctively yanking against his. luke groaned, low and rough, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “you must really like me,” you teased, still breathless, “if you can get this hard in cold water.” a breathless giggle escaped before you could stop it. his gaze stayed dark and intense. his lips found your sweet spot on your neck, sucking just enough to make your knees threaten to give out. “you know it’s more than that,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with something deeper than lust as he pressed himself against your stomach, letting you feel every inch of him.

one of his hands slipped between your bodies, fingers tracing slow and teasing circles on your clit. each stroke sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, your body unconsciously following his lead. your hand found his cock, fingers wrapping around his length and the moment you started twisting your wrist, luke let out a guttural moan against your ear. “fuck,” he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure. the deep and desperate whines slipping from his lips alone had you aching for more. his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. “you’re already making me regret not bringing a condom,” a breathless giggle escaped you, but it was short-lived because just as you captured his lips in a kiss, two of his fingers plunged inside you. you loudly gasped, gripping his shoulders as he pumped them mercilessly, curling just right to hit that spot that had your vision blurring. the water around you swayed violently, mirroring the rhythm of both your hands.

it felt like the world had stopped. all you could process was luke. his woodsmoke scent, his hand gripping your hair, his starved mouth on yours, the warm slickness of his precum as you stroked him, and the way his fingers worked you closer to the edge. “guys!” it yanked you both back to reality just as you were about to come undone. “shit,” luke groaned, his grip loosening as you pushed him away, your brows furrowing in sync. “are you there?” chris’s voice echoed through the bay, and you silently prayed to every god on olympus that your friends hadn’t see you getting fucked by the hermes counselor through the dense trees. “weren’t they suppose to come later?” you whispered, your heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. “i don’t know,” luke muttered, looking even more spooked than you. “but I’m currently trying to think about the oracle to make this boner go away.” a laugh burst from your lips before you could stop it.

a few moments later, when he looked composed enough, luke finally called out: “we’re down here!”. within seconds, your friends came crashing into the water, completely naked. as they splashed around, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. “you bet I’m gonna get the rest of my prize later,” his voice was low, teasing, but the dark smirk on his face promised he was dead serious. you always honored your bets, but something told you luke would make sure you never stopped losing to him.

[veyveyx]

yum 😋

[valeriearmani1]

effie and walburga used to date before they got married to monty and orion

one day sirius stumbles upon an old shoe box and opens it expecting to find embarrassing picture of james

instead it’s countless love letters and pictures of effie and walburga together

he cant look at effie in the eyes for months afterwards

[veyveyx]

OHHH MY LORDDDD YESSSS

[kazrz]

TEN YEARS TOO LATE ⛥ sirius black

ten years ago, bellatrix lestrange’s child was thrown onto your doorstep without warning. ten years later, you’re not sure if you’re living the life you’d wanted — but you do know that mattheo is your son, and no one else’s. [1.6k words]

TAGS: sirius is harry’s godfather, reader is a single mum to mattheo riddle, hurt/no comfort, angst, lovers to strangers/boderline enemies ngl, voldemort died after the first war, reader and sirius are both meanies

🐦‍⬛ — everyone say hi to my baby mattheo! I wrote this fic smiling and all but best believe I’ll never have a child in the future. too much work.

p.s. this fic is inspired by ‘he looks like his father’ by @/marauder-misprint! that fic changed lives and one of them was mine.

“He’s not your kid.”

You’ve endured many offensive questions about Mattheo’s parentage ever since you took him in. They sent you spiralling downward into the deepest depths of your mind, wondering why everyone needed to have their noses in your business. They made you second guess your parenting skills, doubting how you raised Mattheo and whether he truly is the boy you nurtured him to be.

While you weren’t normally so tongue-tied in these situations, it didn’t help that your old, repulsive Hogwarts fling was standing right before you — closer than he’d ever been in more than a decade — confidently claiming that your son wasn’t yours.

It was a huge, fucking relief that the kid had inherited his biological mother’s shamelessness.

Mattheo pushed past only a few irritated students and parents on his way to you. Sirius’ words were as clear as day to him. They ignited a flame that wasn’t known for its swift ceasing.

“Who are you to be the judge of that?” he gritted out, fingers clinging onto yours by habit. You smiled down at him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “Last I remembered Mum telling me, you ditched her after graduation and never reached out. You have no right to even be speaking to her.”

Your son’s words sizzled a hole into your heart. You hadn’t expected him to remember the measly details about a man who was irrelevant in his life. The last time you’d mentioned Sirius, Mattheo was merely five. He’d asked, “Mama, why don’t I have a dad?”

How could you not answer him?

Eighteen years ago, you would have laughed if someone said you’d be a single mother. Sixteen years ago, you would have laughed, along with Sirius, at the prospect of being parents.

Ten years ago, you held in your distaste for children and took in a three-year-old.

And you wouldn’t let the man who’d left your heart in pieces disregard the hard work you’d put in.

Sirius’ dry laugh left you clenching your teeth, hands itching to curl into fists and punch him square in the face. “Stay out of this, kid,” he snapped, not even bothering to glance at Mattheo.

You sent him a right hook straight to his chiseled jaw, hearing a soft crack sound at the impact.

Silence fell over the courtyard like a thick, suffocating blanket, but not before gasps echoed from every corner of the open space. Sirius held trembling fingers to his left jawbone, lips parted in absolute bewilderment. He stared off into the empty space beside Mattheo.

A few rustles sounded as someone shoved past students clad in their black robes. Harry froze, halting just before he ended up in the middle of the ongoing catfight.

A dazed Remus materialised from behind him, eyes widened as he took in the scene.

“YN,” the lanky man rasped, eyes flitting between you and his best mate. Sirius still had his hand pressed to the side of his insolent-looking face, but now he was glaring you down, brows virtually stitched together. “YN, you’re here.”

Mattheo tugged on your arm and you stepped back, the greater distance between you and your ex clearing the haze from your mind. You tried not to roll your eyes at Remus’ quite apparent observation.

“Yes, I am, Lupin.” The edge in your voice gave way to pure rancour, eyes hardening when Sirius righted himself with a groan. You had half the heart not to utter the next few words. “You’re not the only one with a child.”

By now, the prying eyes of passers-by had redirected somewhere else, no longer interested in your dispute with two of the Marauders.

Remus’ gaze lingered on Mattheo — his dark curls, his defined brows, his nose, the scar that marred his cheek intimidatingly. He looked close to nothing like you, save for his body language, graceful yet sharp, and his clothing choices, casual yet sophisticated.

Even if the kid wasn’t your blood, it was painfully blatant that he was raised by you.

The professor swallowed the lump in his throat. “Riddle’s yours?” The question was stupid, but he was too dumbfounded to think of another one.

Sirius groaned, running a hand down his face. You relished in seeing him wince at the pain that struck his jaw. Mattheo, on the other hand, seemed more than ready to rip him apart.

“You might wanna stop there, Moony, or she’ll have you puking out your guts,” Sirius sneered, the unfamiliar sound sending a tremble down Harry’s spine. His godfather had never been so agitated before. It might’ve just been your presence that irked him, given the woeful tone Sirius would adopt whenever he shared stories about your relationship back then.

You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have someone claim your son isn’t really yours, would you? Because Harry isn’t your son. He’s your dead best friend’s son.”

A brief flicker of hurt crossed Sirius’ grey eyes. It tugged at your heartstrings, but you shoved the feeling aside. You had no compassion for him. He’d shattered you — how could you possibly go back to him?

Mattheo turned to you with a plea in his eyes. While he normally would contribute with some snarky comments of his own, he didn’t want you getting into a brawl. Especially when this was the topic at hand.

“Mum,” he tried, voice firm but holding a semblance of vulnerability he’d only ever show around you. “Don’t do this. He’s not worth it.”

At that, Sirius whipped out his wand and jabbed at your chest with the tip. Mattheo almost broke the man’s ribs, but you pushed him aside before he could get caught in the altercation.

The former Gryffindor looked nearly like a rabid dog with the way he snarled and growled, wand tip digging painfully into your collarbone.

“Not worth it? That’s what I was to you? What you told your son I was?” His voice sank deeper than the depths of the ocean. Harry didn’t recognise the man who looked like his godfather.

You gripped his wand tight, nearly snapping it in two if Sirius hadn’t yanked it away harshly. “The moment you abandoned me on my own doorstep, you became a stranger!” you raged, keeping your volume in check before another crowd formed. “When you didn’t call, or even send a bloody letter, I gave up waiting on you. What could I do? Cry all night because you weren’t there to hug me? Trudge around my house blindfolded because everything reminded me of you? I knew better than that. I moved away, and you weren’t there to stop me. So why are you here now, claiming my kid isn’t mine and acting offended that he thinks you’re of no worth to me?”

Mattheo held his breath when you spat the words you’d been holding in for years. He knew you were tenacious and resolute in all your glory, but he’d never witnessed you so livid. He had little to no knowledge of how Sirius had left you so wounded and exposed, though now, your words began assembling the puzzle pieces he’d collected over the years.

He noticed whenever you stopped for a moment, looking longingly at an object that meant nothing to him, but a lot more to you. You would sometimes, subconsciously, style his hair differently when it grew too long. Right now, as he glanced between you and Sirius with his waves, he realised why.

“Seriously, Sirius?” He heard the crack in your voice when your ex didn’t respond. Out of guilt or fury, he didn’t know. “You made your decision, and I have made mine.”

You shoved the dark-haired man off of you, causing him to stumble backwards and lose his footing. Remus darted forwards, barely managing to catch Sirius in his arms, sparing him from the unforgiving impact of the ground. Hushed whispers were exchanged as the latter righted himself, sending you a glare while holding his injured jaw.

It was only after a quiet, indignant huff that you turned to your son and placed benign hands on his shoulders.

Leaning down slightly, you brushed a stray hair away from Mattheo’s forehead, smiling as tenderly as you could. “Are you ready to leave, Theo?” you murmured sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous bite. The sudden shift in tone induced whiplash.

Mattheo flashed a charming grin that reminded Remus of your own. Whatever Sirius had said about the Slytherin boy not being your son was possibly the most erroneous statement ever uttered.

You mirrored his expression, though yours was gentler and didn’t reach your eyes. Your son’s enthusiasm flickered for a moment, but when you stood to your full height and led him away, Mattheo began cheerfully rambling about the recent happenings at Hogwarts and his own escapades.

Sirius couldn’t believe that he’d just seen you for the first time in more than a decade. He especially couldn’t fathom the fact that it had gone terribly.

He shouldn’t have said Mattheo wasn’t your kid. That isn’t something you say to your ex you’ve been thinking about for thirteen years after you ditched her. Now that he’d put it that way, he realised how horribley he had acted to you and your son.

Your son. It was a foreign term to him, principally when it came to you. The you he’d known in Hogwarts had an unyielding repugnance for children. But, he figured, you were really only averse to the toddlers who didn’t listen. You must have raised Mattheo well.

“That was awful,” Harry quipped, raising an eyebrow at his godfather. Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face and wincing when his jaw decided it was too much.

He sighed, brows stitched together. “I know.” But what did it matter?

Remus patted him on the back. “If you’re lucky, you might see her again,” he reassured his friend, though skepticism snuck between his words.

“If she even wants to see me again.”

Harry had a feeling that you didn’t.

navigation ⛥ sirius black

[veyveyx]

AHH I REALLY LIKES THIS 🫶🫶😽😽

[sillylittlespam]

ISN’T IT DELICATE?

Delicate masterlist

Chapter One : New Captain Alert!

riordanverse characters x brooklyn 99 au!

detective!percy jackson x detective!y/n

Summary : (y/n) (l/n) wasn’t quite used to being a member of a precinct that actually cared about each other. She had been at the 99th precinct for almost a year, yet she still found herself keeping her co-workers at arms-length. She wanted to feel comfortable and open up, she just wasn’t sure how.

For someone who made a lot of embarrassing decisions, Percy Jackson hated the feeling of humiliation. But him and his big mouth somehow managed to get into a very public argument with his new coworker-slash-secret-crush, which ended in a very intense bet. If (y/n) made more felony arrests than he did, then she got his car. But if he made more felony arrests than her, he got to take (y/n) out on a date. And while he was glad to finally have a reason to talk to this absolutely gorgeous social recluse, it also meant that he finally had to go above and beyond at his job.

. : 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

“This job is eating me alive. I can’t breathe anymore. I spent all these years trying to be the good guy, the man in the white hat. I’m not becoming like them, I am them.”

“Jackson, what the hell are you doing?”

The dark haired man looked up to find his detective partner, (y/n) (l/n), watching him with a mixture of annoyance and confusion on her face. In her hands, she held a small notebook and a pen.

“I’m doing the best speech from Donnie Brasco,” Percy informed her, before turning to look at the camera that projected his face onto the many televisions behind him, “Or, actually… Ten of me are doing the best speech from Donnie Brasco.”

“Can you get it together?” (y/n) asked. Out of everyone in the whole precinct, she was one of the few people who didn’t at least somewhat enjoy his shenanigans. Turning back to the store owner, she continued reading from her notebook, “So the store was robbed about two hours ago. They took mostly tablets, laptops, and cameras-“

She stopped talking when the sound of ‘80s hip-hop music began blaring from behind her, and she turned around to give Percy a blank stare.

“Sorry,” he said, and quickly pressed the power button of the electric keyboard to turn off the music.

(y/n) let out a deep sigh before turning back to the store owner, “I’d like a list of all your employees. Whoever had access to the store. I’d also like to apologize for my partner, his parents didn’t give him enough attention growing up.”

“Excuse me, Detective,” despite the dig at him, Percy had a smile on his face as he addressed (y/n), “I’ve already solved the case.”

(y/n)’s arms dropped to her side, and her impatient expression encouraged Percy to continue.

“We’re looking for three white males, one of whom has sleeve tats on both arms.”

“And how do you know that?” (y/n)’s voice was more tired than anything as she made her way over to her partner.

“I had an informant on the inside,” Percy’s voice was dead serious, “He’s been here for years. Watching, learning, waiting.”

A moment of silence hung in the air as (y/n) waited for the punchline.

“His code name?” Percy took a few steps backward before reaching over one of the shelves to reveal a stuffed animal, “Fuzzy cuddle bear. He’s a nanny cam!” 

Percy flipped the bear over quickly before his partner could say anything.

“You got lucky,” (y/n) scoffed, shaking her head.

“No, I got here five minutes before you and figured that in this gigantic electronics store, there had to be at least one working camera,” Percy shot back, taking the chip out of the nanny cam and inserting it into the projector. The televisions behind them showed the robbers, one of them perfectly fitting Percy’s previous description, “Hi, bad guys!”

He picked up the teddy bear again, looking into it’s eyes, “You did it, Fuzzy. You busted ‘em. It’s time to come home.”

“I’m not sure if I can,” Percy lifted the teddy higher, pretending to voice it, and (y/n) rolled her eyes, “I’ve been undercover so long, I’ve forgotten who I am. I have seen terrible things. I haven’t known the touch of a woman in many moons.”

As Percy voices the teddy bear, it got increasingly closer to (y/n)’s face.

“All right,” she said, turning and walking away.

“Detective (l/n)!” the bear, aka Percy, cried, “Don’t walk away from me!”

If there was one thing (y/n) hated, it was losing. And at this very moment, as she sat in the briefing room and looked upon the whiteboard in front of her, she could feel the taste of defeat beginning to seep in.

“Yes, I did crack the case,” Percy Jackson announced from his seat across from her. For once he sat upright in his chair, his body turned to face her as he smirked, “(l/n). would you care to do the honors?”

Feeling the entire room turned to look at her, (y/n) sighed and pushed herself out of her chair. Once at the whiteboard, she erased the number 23 below Percy’s name.

“Yeah, and you’re just gonna wanna add one,” Percy called, as she wrote down the number 24 in very small handwriting.

“I hate this,” (y/n) muttered, mostly to herself as the rest of the room let out whoops, claps, and various cheers. The number under her name was stuck at 22, meaning that Percy remained in the lead.

“And I’m winning!” he exclaimed, “It’s a good feeling.”

As (y/n) turned to go back to her seat, the rest of the room burst out into applause. Her eyes fell on Percy’s green one’s. The large grin on his face provoked the smallest smile from (y/n), and she quickly rolled her eyes to cover it up.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she said.

“Oh, I will,” he shot back, moving to rest his legs on the table in front of him before she turned around to the front where one of their sergeants, Jason Grace, was taking the stand.

“Alright,” the tall, blond man cleared his throat before addressing the precinct, “PJ, any update on the Morgenthau murder?”

“Yeah!” Percy stood from his seat, running a hand through his dark hair, “Good news for all you murder fans.”

He brought out a few laughs as he made his way to the front to show off a presentation.

“Earlier this morning, someone decided to shoot and kill luxury food importer Henry Morgenthau. Body was found by the cleaning lady. During her interview, I deduced using expert detective work that she had something super gross on her chin.”

The room groaned at the photo he provided.

“I think it was flan,” Percy’s best friend, Grover Underwood, said after sipping his coffee.

“Grover thinks it’s flan, I think it was butterscotch pudding.”

“It could just be old person gunk,” Clarisse La Rue spoke up, her feet still propped up on the table in front of her despite the numerous requests to remove them, “You know how old people always have that gunk on them?”

“Oldie gunk,” Percy pointed at her, “Could be, yeah. Anyone else?”

“How about we focus on the murder, Jackson? And not the old person gunk?” Jason suggested, patiently.

“Crime techs are at the scene now,” (y/n) spoke up, “We’re heading back when they’re done.”

“Okay, I want you two on this,” Jason emphasized, “This is gonna be priority one for the new C.O.”

“Wait, tell us about the new captain,” Clarisse said.

“Captain Ramírez will be here soon. She’ll want to introduce herself,” he told them, “Dismissed.”

“I think it’s so cool that we’re going to have a female captain,” Hazel Levesque spoke up.

“You know what’s even cooler?” Leo Valdez asked her, “That she’s hispanic.”

That sparked a debate about whether being a woman or being Hispanic made their new Captain more of a minority. The rest of the precinct decided to mind their own business, and tend to their other tasks.

The arrival of the new captain was rather inconvenient, as Percy and Leo, the only two detectives who were not allowed to be left together due to their lack of rational thinking, had been left together and somehow managed to catch an almost full garbage can on fire. In a poor attempt to put the fire out, they had knocked it over and sent burning garbage all over the floor.

“Where the hell is the fire extinguisher?” Frank Zhang, the precinct’s other sergeant, asked frantically. A silent woman handed it to him, “Thank you!”

After the fire had been successfully put out, it took Frank a minute or so to notice that the entire precinct was silently staring behind him. Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with a rather tall, stern looking woman with a very official police badge.

“Captain Ramírez!” Frank exclaimed, and Jason quickly made his way over, taking care not to step on the charred mess on the floor.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that, Captain Ramírez,” the blond man stuck out his hand, “I can assure you that this sort of thing does not usually happen at the 99!”

“Why’s he lying?” Leo whispered, earning a smile from Percy and a shushing noise from (y/n).

“Captain Ramírez-Arellano,” was all the olive skinned woman said.

“I’m sorry?” Grace asked, lowering his hand.

“That is my name. Captain Ramírez-Arellano. I have two last names, I would appreciate for them to be used.”

“I’m sorry, Captain, I wasn’t aware of that,” Jason reacted much quicker than Zhang, “Thank you for correcting us.”

She nodded once in acknowledgment, before turning her attention to the silent detectives.

“Everyone,” she began, poise and elegant like a copper statue, “I am your new commanding officer, Captain Reyna Ramírez-Arellano. I trust that you adults can handle yourselves for a few minutes while I have a word with your sergeants?”

She received a few nods, while the rest of the precinct remained too nervous to move.

“Gentlemen,” she gestured for them to follow her as she walked to her office.

“Yes ma’am,” they said in unison, quickly following behind.

The detectives waited until the door closed to begin speaking.

“I think I’m in love,” Piper McLean spoke up, earning a few nods.

“I love her attitude,” Annabeth Chase, Percy’s other best friend, agreed.

“Is anyone else picking up a gay vibe?” Nico di Angelo, the precinct’s civilian administrator, asked. The room fell silent as everyone gave him a weird look.

“How the hell did you idiots manage to light a whole trash can on fire?” (y/n) asked, turning to Percy and Leo.

The pair shot each other grins, before shaking their heads.

“It was an experiment,” was all Leo said. They refused to explain any further.

In the Captain’s office, Reyna placed her name tag on the desk.

“Sergeant Grace, it’s nice to meet you. Sergeant Zhang, you were with me in the 1-8. Though… you were significantly…..” The captain chose her words carefully.

“Fatter, ma’am,” Frank said, “Yes, I go to a gym now.”

“Good for you,” Reyna’s tone was not at all sarcastic as she stood and walked towards the window, “Sergeants, tell me about your detective squad.”

A moment of silence hung in the air as the two men tried to figure out what to say.

“Hazel Levesque is my fiancée,” Frank spoke up, and the trio’s eyes fell to the dark skinned woman, who was diligently typing away at her computer, “We’ve been cleared and everything, so there’s nothing to worry about. She works hard, she does things by the book, overall she’s very good at her job. But we try to keep her out of the interrogation room.”

“Can she not handle it?” Reyna’s tone was almost surprised.

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason held back a smile.

“You know I’m not mad at you, I just want to hear the truth,” Hazel leaned back in her chair almost too casually as her eyes scanned the face of the man in front of her.

Leo Valdez sat, confused as to why he had been dragged to the interrogation room, “Yeah, I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know that idiot act works on everyone else, but it’s not going to work on me,” the dark skinned woman sat up, her golden eyes burning holes into Leo’s brown ones, “You ate my pie. Admit it.”

“What? Hazel, no I didn’t-“

“You’re lying!” the Latino flinched at the volume increase as Hazel shouted and jumped up, slamming her hands on the metal table between them , “I know you did!”

“Hazel, sweetie, what the hell is going on?” the detectives turned to find Piper McLean had entered the room, “Also, beat it. I need to interrogate my perp.”

“Nico di Angelo, our civilian administrator,” Grace began, nodding to the desk outside the captain’s office. The young man he was referring to, however, remained in the huddled group of off-task detectives, no doubt whispering about what was currently happening behind closed doors, “He’s…scary. But he’s the guy you want sending awkward emails or confronting a lawyer. He is a college student, so this is kind of a part-time job for him, but he does it well. He only really got the job because he grew up with Percy, Annabeth, and Grover.”

“Nico, you managed to get eight at-risk kids to sign up for the Junior Police Program,” Jason said as he and Clarisse approached the young man lounging behind his desk, “How the hell did you do it?”

Nico looked up from his phone, “Oh, I just told them some crap about how they need to have passion for something in their lives. And when that didn’t work I told them about how much cops get paid, how they never have to stop at a red light, and get to carry a gun.”

“How did you know that would work?” Jason asked.

“That’s what made me sign up,” Nico shrugged.

“You did this program?” For once, Clarisse sounded surprised as she looked upon Nico’s shaggy black hair, silver skull rings, dark baggy clothing, and various chains.

“Yeah. It does not work.”

“While Nico is scary in the ‘caffeine withdrawal slash emo teenager’ kind of way, Clarisse La Rue is scary in the ‘I’m gonna pull you into a dark alley and beat you up’ kind of way,” Frank continued, his eyes falling on the curly haired woman, who was currently staring daggers into someone across the room, “She’s not the best at managing her anger, or doing her paperwork. She’s tough, smart, and very athletic.”

Clarisse had just arrived back at the precinct after a trial where she testified against a perp she had arrested. Hazel and Frank applauded almost genuinely as Clarisse spread her arms and did a mock bow.

“La Rue, you did it,” Frank congratulated, “They found him guilty on all charges.”

“Huh,” Clarisse smiled for once, “Hazel’s advice worked.”

She threw a light punch at the woman’s shoulder, who laughed in return.

“So where was your happy place?” Hazel asked, referring to the trick she suggested to keep her temper in check.

“I’m in a cabin in the middle of nowhere,” Clarisse began, “Inside it’s just me and that stupid, slimy defense attorney. And I’m beating the hell out of him. I break a dining room table over his head. Then I rip off his arm and shove it where the sun don't shine. Then I reach down his throat and shake his hand.”

Frank and Hazel looked at each other, speechless.

“Yeah, okay!” Frank finally said after he collected his thoughts, “I’m going to go ahead and schedule you for a psych eval!”

“Piper McLean can either be your best friend, or your worst enemy,” Grace continued, and the attention turned to the almond skinned woman wearing a snowboarding jacket who was whispering with Nico, “she grew up really well off, but once she turned 18 she decided to make her own money. She’s a very hard worker, but she can be a little…uneducated in certain aspects of life.”

It was around noon when the entire precinct was startled by the sound of an explosion.

A startled scream directed everyone’s attention over to the microwave, which had caught on fire. Piper McLean stood a few feet away, frozen in shock.

“Piper, use the fire extinguisher!” Annabeth called from the other side of the room.

“I don’t know how to!”

Grover, who was in close proximity, grabbed the extinguisher and successfully put out the fire.

“What the hell happened?” Clarisse asked, and everyone else began muttering their own questions.

“I don’t know, I-“

Grover opened the charred microwave to reveal a fork. At the sight of it, everyone let out an annoyed sigh.

“Did you put this in there?” he asked.

“Was I not supposed to? I’m sorry, I can replace it-“

Sergeant Grace and Sergeant Zhang exchanged looks.

“We need to schedule a ‘precinct safety’ meeting,” Jason muttered, and Frank nodded.

“Leo Valdez is going to be the reason I have a heart attack,” Frank Zhang sighed and nodded to the curly-haired Latino who stood in the center of the Off-Task unit, “I love the kid, but he’s insane. Somehow he manages to light everything on fire. But work-wise, he’s surprisingly efficient. He had a really rough childhood. His mom died and he was homeless for a while. Obviously that kind of stuff is still going to effect you later in life, so we try to cut him some slack if he’s having a hard time.”

“Hey, are you doing okay?” (y/n) quietly asked as she approached Leo at his desk. She had been watching him for a while, and his unexplained shift in personality was beginning to worry her. The precinct was having one of its rare quiet days, where all the extroverts were out chasing leads.

“Hm?” Leo looked up from his computer monitor, which had turned off ten minutes ago, “What? Oh, yeah, no, I’m fine.”

“Something about saying “yeah, no,” makes me think you’re not fine,” (y/n) said, a small smile on her face, “Do you want to talk about anything?”

Leo was silent for a moment, before he sighed.

“Ah,” he began picking at the zipper of his open jacket, “Today’s kind of the anniversary of my mom dying.”

“Oh,” (y/n) didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t sound good enough.

“And I just-“ Leo stopped himself, pausing to look out the window. (y/n) was pretty sure he was blinking back tears, so she awkwardly turned her head for a moment to give him some privacy, “I’m just having a hard time focusing. Literally all I have to do is finish this stupid report. I was supposed to be done an hour ago, I’m not even halfway done.”

“I can do it,” (y/n) said after a moment of silence.

Leo turned to look at her, almost confused, “What? No, (l/n), you don’t have to do my report, I-“

“No, I can do it. I fly through reports. And this way you can get started on something else,” she nodded to the sticky notes tapped to the bottom of his monitor with an overwhelming to-do list.

Leo’s eyes scanned (y/n)’s face for a moment. She stuck her hand out, and Leo eventually handed her the file.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly, and she gave him a small nod.

“Grover Underwood is a member of what we higher-ups call the trio. It’s composed of him, Annabeth, and Percy, since they grew up together. Out of the three of them, Grover is the only one I would trust with my car keys,” Grace said, and the attention went towards the brown skinned man whispering to a blonde woman, “He’s a sweet kid, he loves animals, and bless the Lord, he has a sense of reason.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Grover Underwood made a show of announcing as he walked into the precinct, earning everyone’s attention, “Six banks robbed in three weeks, $250,000 stolen, citizens trembling in fear. Well, no more.”

“You got your bank robber!” Jason exclaimed.

“Went home last night, no overtime, just me and some brie. And I cracked it. So, here he is. The thug that’s been terrorizing the city. Say hello, Marvin.”

“Hello,” everyone’s smiles faded as they turned their attention to an eighty year old man with a blue scarf.

“Oh my Gods, he’s so old,” Hazel exclaimed, voicing what everyone else was thinking.

“He’s not that old!” Grover insisted, his own attitude dropping at the unexpected reaction, “his nurse isn’t even full time!”

“Annabeth Chase is scary in the ‘I know a hundred ways to kill you and even more ways to hide your body’ kind of way,” Frank continued, nodding to the blonde who was nodding to whatever Grover was whispering, “She’s the smartest person you know, until she’s around Percy and Grover. She can either be the biggest overachiever, or the biggest slacker. It really depends on the week.”

When Annabeth Chase sat down at her desk with a large cup of coffee, Grover, her desk partner, paused his conversation with Clarisse. The two detectives silently watched the blonde woman as she impatiently waited for her computer to turn on.

“What?” Annabeth asked as she finally noticed their eyes, her voice containing a slight rasp to it.

“Nothing,” the glance shared between Grover and Clarisse revealed the lie.

Annabeth’s eyes narrowed, expectantly.

“You just look a little…tired, Annabeth,” Grover made sure to keep his voice light as he referred to the dark circles under her eyes, “Did you sleep alright?”

“I didn’t sleep at all, actually,” Annabeth blinked, her focus off in the distance, “I got off work late and went home. I started playing Minecraft, and got distracted with building the city of New York. Before I knew it, it was time for me to come back and I still hadn’t finished my work.”

“Did you finish the city?” Grover’s casual tone let Clarisse know this wasn’t an uncommon occurance.

“Almost,” she rubbed her eyes, “I just need to put in the sidewalks and figure out how to make cars.”

The other two detectives watched silently as the blonde chugged her coffee.

“I’m still behind on my paperwork,” she muttered.

Reyna’s attention fell to one of the desks outside the group of people, where (y/n) sat, halfheartedly attempting to type up a report. ‘Attempting’ being the key word, because Percy was making things difficult as he leaned on her desk while he went on about something in the hopes of earning her attention. 

“Tell me about them,” Reyna nodded in their direction, and the sergeants exchanged knowing  looks.

“(y/n) (l/n) is our newest detective. She’s been here almost a year, and, well…” Frank trailed off, “All we really know is that she’s reserved, smart, and very hard to read.”

“She’s brilliant, but she has a hard time letting people in. Stubborn too,” Jason added, “she and Jackson have some big bet over who gets more arrests this year. Ever since the bet, their numbers have gone way up.”

“Hey, how did you know that woman?” Percy asked his partner as he drove the police car back to the precinct.

“Hm?” (y/n) looked up from the case file she was studying. Percy glanced over to find her watching him, “Keep your eyes on the road, Jackson.”

“They are!” he insisted, “And I asked how you knew the woman we spoke to.”

“Oh,” (y/n) seemed to hold back a smile, “I made her wedding cakes back when I had a baking business.”

“I didn’t know you owned a business!” Percy’s eyes were wide, and his tone was full of surprise, “Or that you could bake.”

“I only did it to put myself through college. It was fun, but I don’t really have time for it anymore,” (y/n) shrugged, “I was really good at it, though.”

“You know, my birthday’s in a few months,” Percy shot her a quick smile. Then his expression faltered, and he was silent for a moment, “Wait a minute, did you say wedding cakes, plural?”

“Percy, watch the fucking road!”

“Tell me about Jackson,” Reyna said.

Jason let out a long sigh, “Percy Jackson may just be our best detective. He loves putting away bad guys and solving puzzles. The only puzzle he hasn’t solved is how to grow up.”

“That was very well put,” Reyna noted.

“We’ve both spoken a lot about Percy in our departmentally mandated therapy sessions,” Frank muttered.

“You busted through a window for no reason?” Jason Grace asked, his hands massaging his temple.

“Basic police tactic, Sarge,” Percy said, as if it should’ve been obvious, “Cover every exit.”

“It was a sealed window on the fifth floor,” Jason lifted his head to squint at the dark haired detective, “You could’ve just gone through the door with Grover.”

“Yeah, but then what would my catchphrase have been? “Knock knock, who’s there? Justice?”” Percy stopped talking, taking a moment to think, “Wait, that's actually amazing.”

Jason walked away, shaking his head as he muttered something about paperwork.

“We’ve also noticed he seems to have a strange fixation on trying to get (y/n) to open up,” Jason commented, “So if they’re not working on a case together, they need to be as far away from each other as possible, otherwise no work will get done.”

“Aren’t their desks right next to each other?” Reyna asked.

“That’s the problem we’ve run into as well,” Frank nodded, “And these detectives are weirdly attached with their desks.”

Reyna was silent for a moment, “Thank you, sergeants, you may be dismissed. Please send di Angelo in.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A few moments later there was a knock at the door, “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Nico, have a seat,” Reyna gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

She waited until the young adult was comfortable before she spoke again, her eyes trained beyond her window, “Tell me about the bet between (l/n) and Jackson.”

Nico blinked, almost surprised at the question.

“Oh. Well, it started a few months ago. I’m not really sure what they were arguing about, but it ended in Percy insisting he could do his job better than her. So the deal is if (l/n) gets more felony arrests, Percy has to give her his car. It’s an old Mustang, it’s pretty sick. But if he gets more arrests, she has to go on a date with him,” Reyna’s lips twitched up at Nico’s words, “He guarantees it will end in sex, but honestly the rest of the precinct seems to think (y/n)’s got this in the bag.”

“And what do you think?” the captain asked, shifting her gaze to the young man in front of her as she leaned back in her chair ever so slightly.

Nico glanced towards the door to ensure it was closed before answering, “Honestly? It depends on how much he wants that date. He has a tremendous amount of potential, he just needs something to put it towards. On the other hand, I don’t know shit about (y/n). She gets her work done, and kind of keeps to herself. That girl could be a secret undercover crime lord or something, and none of us would know until it’s too late.”

“I get your point,” Reyna nodded, “Thank you, you may go.”

When the new captain was finally left alone in her office, she allowed herself to recline in her chair, her eyes still on the pair of detectives.

At this point, (y/n) had given up on writing her report. Her arms crossed in front of her, yet she had the slightest smile on her face as she looked up at Percy. He was still talking about God-knows-what, and anyone watching could tell it was a one-sided conversation. The way that he slowly inched closer to her, and the way that she nodded along with his words let Reyna know that while she may be in for more than she signed up for, this was going to be hella interesting.

authors note

the first chapter is done! if you can’t tell, y/n is still warming up to her precinct, and I’m excited to see where this goes because we all know the characters I write kinda do their own thing

thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this!

taglist!

@itzmeme @simpingmyassoff @sukimiya

please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list :))

[veyveyx]

i really liked this, im excited for more 🫶🫶

love ya 🤭🤭😽😽

[fameisagnn]

the lotus casino scene with “poker face” in the background will always be a shining light in the darkness that was the pjo movies

[veyveyx]

SO REAL 🙏

im pretty sure that the movies were my first time ever hearing poker face 😭