#fic: Serendipity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lixzey · 3 months

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SERENDIPITY

a/n: there are scenes here from the demigod diaries, specifically the diary of luke castellan. credits to uncle rick for those scenes 💯 the characters and the pjo verse belongs to rick riordan except Amaya Williams and her father.

beta'd by the amazing @lilmaymayy 💘

If you guys wanna be added to the luke castellan taglist, just ask! Anyway, onto the story!

word count: 5.5k

luke and maya masterlist

CHAPTER ONE: THE YOUNG HALF BLOODS

LUKE CASTELLAN didn’t want to be a half-blood.

Who would want to be one? Luke had learned from a young age that he could not live a quiet and peaceful life. He was a demigod. If you think that sounds cool, think again. All those Greek monsters from the stories? They are real. Demigods are monster magnets. Monsters can sense them even from miles away.

Luke was nine when he ran away from home. His home life wasn’t exactly ideal. For as long as he could remember, he knew his mother wasn’t normal. Sure, some mothers had addictions, were abusive, and such, but his mother was on a whole new level. At the young age of three, Luke was terrified of his mother’s fits. Her stormy eyes would turn green and she would start screaming Danger! Terrible fate! in a deep, far away voice. Every time it happened, Luke would hide in the furthest corner of his closet, covering his ears while his mother screamed again and again as tears streamed down his face. He felt helpless that he couldn’t do anything for his mother. Luke prayed and prayed for someone to come and save him and his mother, but no one came. Not even his father.

Luke had known who his father was since he was four. His mother always muttered his name, how could he not understand that? Luke was a son of Hermes, he wasn't clueless like how the gods expected him to be. There was a photo at the top of the mantle of the once cozy house that Luke never got a chance to see: a photo of a happy couple with a squirming little baby, them, his once so perfect family.

Luke wondered why his father abandoned him and his mother if they were this perfect family when he was a baby? He prayed day and night to his father but as the days passed, Luke learned to resent his father—blaming him for all of his misery and for what had happened to his mother—if it wasn’t for him leaving maybe his mother wouldn’t be unstable, if it wasn’t for him he could’ve had a proper childhood, if it wasn’t for him he could’ve had a nurturing mother.

Luke would get extremely jealous of children with loving parents—the life he was deprived of—he would watch as mothers tended to their children in his neighborhood, he would watch fathers play with their children, while all he had was a broken mother and a deadbeat father.

Because of that, Luke packed up and ran away and didn’t look back. He’s come to understand that no one will ever rescue him; he has to take his fate into his own hands.

Living alone on the streets at the age of nine is harder than it looked. At first, Luke thought it would all be a great adventure, just like in the stories he heard before, but he eventually realized that living in that house—if you could even call that a house—even with his possessed mother, is safer than fending for himself.

Luke hadn’t brought a weapon with him when he left, not even one of those knives from the kitchen that had never been used and was only rusting in the kitchen drawer, and his carelessness had nearly killed him more than once. He resorted to diving in dumpsters to try to disguise his scent and never stayed in one place for long, always on the move with hardly enough time to steal a few hours—even minutes—of sleep using his backpack as a pillow.

By the second month, Luke nearly admitted defeat. He’d sell his soul to some dark god for a good night’s sleep and a hot meal. He’s exhausted and filthy, penniless and constantly on the run from monsters and well-meaning mortals alike. His backpack felt far heavier than it should and he found himself running out of breath almost every time. His clothes, which had once been bordering on too small thanks to a recent growth spurt, now hang off his thin frame, the cuffs frayed and stained beyond recognition.

Luke imagined all the normal families living in those cozy houses he once passed. He wondered what it would be like to have a home—a proper home—to know where his next meal was coming from, and not have to worry about getting eaten by monsters every day. He barely remembered what it was like to sleep in a real bed. Luke was tired of fending for his life, but eventually he managed to get the hang of living day to day with a promise to himself that he will never be like his father.

He traveled on foot, to state by state, lonely and miserable. Once, when he stopped by in a town for a while, Luke tried to befriend a mortal, but whenever he told them the truth about himself, they didn’t understand. He’d confess that he was the son of Hermes, the immortal messenger dude with the winged sandals. He’d explain that monsters and Greek gods were real and very much alive in the modern world. His mortal friends would say, “That is so cool! I wish I was a demigod!” Like it’s some sort of game and he’d always ended up leaving.

For five years Luke fought hard to survive. He shoplifted food from convenience stores and tried to fight off monsters with a pocket knife he had stolen from a family having a picnic at a park he once passed. Even though he’d never met his father and didn't really want to, he shared some of his talents. Along with being messenger of the gods, his father is also the god of merchants—which explains why he was good with money—and travelers, which explains why the so-called divine god left his mother without ever looking back at the family he supposedly built. Hermes is also the god of thieves, hence the shoplifting and stealing. It wasn’t an ideal life for a child. He was barely living, but eventually Luke just simply learned to live the life he was forced to.

When Luke was fourteen, he had met Thalia—the daughter of Zeus. The meeting had been an accident (it wasn’t). They had literally run into each other in a dragon’s cave outside Charleston and teamed up to stay alive. At first Luke was skeptical of trusting Thalia. No one else in his life had ever understood him, but she did. Thalia fighting off monsters should’ve been Luke’s first clue, that Thalia was like him—a demigod. But unlike him, Thalia had it worse. She was a forbidden kid, born out of a pact sworn on the River Styx. Luke eventually trusted Thalia and the two chose to team up to stay alive, subsequently traveling across the country while fending for themselves.

Being with Thalia made Luke feel less lonely. He finally had a friend, a friend who understood the struggles he had gone through his whole life. With her, battling monsters didn’t feel that scary anymore.

At some point, they arrived at Richmond, Virginia where Thalia followed a goat—Amaltheia. Luke didn’t understand why they were following a goat. Why were they following a goat? He didn’t know. Thalia then told Luke that it was Amaltheia who led her to him, that their meeting wasn’t by accident and decided to follow her thinking that Amaltheia was sent by her father, Zeus. Thalia could flash her blue eyes, give him one kind word, and she can get him to do pretty much anything—even though it was against his better judgment.

Amaltheia led Thalia and Luke to an old mansion. Once inside—thanks to Luke’s skills (which he isn’t proud of)—they realized that the mansion was a trap, a deadly one at that. As they were trying everything to escape, they met Halcyon Green, a demigod son of Apollo who was cursed by the gods for saving a girl’s life with his ability to see into the future. He had been imprisoned and unable to speak. A part of Halcyon’s curse was to lure demigods into being eaten by the three leucrotae—a terrifying monster that cannot be defeated by man nor god.

Luke already knew the gods could be cruel. His own father had ignored him for fourteen years. But Halcyon Green’s curse was just plain wrong. It was evil. Luke desperately wanted to find a way to rescue him and Thalia. But Hal told them that every demigod thought that at first, that they could escape, but soon realized it wasn't possible. Thalia was able to claim the Aegis—a bracelet that transforms into a replica of her father’s shield—a blessing from Zeus. After hours of searching, they discovered that the only way to defeat the leucrotae was making Greek fire.

In the end, Hal decided that he would sacrifice himself to give them time to escape. But before he did, Hal had predicted Luke's future but left him vague answers when asked about it. Hal later gave Luke his personal diary and a celestial bronze knife. Luke and Thalia successfully escaped, shaken, but nonetheless unscathed. Luke gripped his backpack close, the diary and the celestial bronze knife—the only remnants of Halcyon Green’s life—safe inside with the word Promise, that Hal had written.

I promise, Hal, Luke thought. I’ll learn from your mistakes. If the gods ever treat me that badly, I’ll fight back. Luke wouldn’t let him down like the gods damned them to be.

The two ran through the streets of Richmond until they found a small park where they cleaned themselves the best they could. Then they laid low until dark. The two didn’t bother to talk about what had happened while they wandered through neighborhoods and industrial areas. Luke and Thalia had no plan, no glowing goat to follow anymore. They were bone tired, but neither of them felt like sleeping or stopping. Luke wanted to get as far as possible from that burning mansion. It wasn’t the first time they’d barely escaped with our lives, but they had never succeeded at the expense of another demigod’s life.

Thalia suggested heading to their old camp on the James River as they shivered in the cold of the night. It would take at least a day to get there, but it was as good as a plan. The two demigods sat and split a ham sandwich as they ate in silence. The food tasted like cardboard, but they really didn’t have a choice. After the last bite, Luke heard a faint metal ping from a nearby alley. Someone was nearby.

Luke got up, pulling out the dagger Hal gave him as Thalia had her spear and shield at the ready. The two crept along the wall of the warehouse, turning into a dark alleyway that dead-ended at a loading dock piled with old scrap metal. Just then there was a loud clang, a sheet of corrugated tin quivered on the dock. Something—someone—was underneath. Luke crept toward the loading bay until we stood over the pile of metal, Thalia following closely behind. He gestured for her to hold back as he reached for the piece of corrugated metal and mouthed, One, two, three! As soon as he lifted the sheet of tin, something flew at him—a blur of flannel and dark hair. A hammer hurtled straight at his face.

Things could’ve gone very wrong. Fortunately his reflexes were good from years of fighting. Luke dodged the hammer, then grabbed the little girl’s wrist. The hammer went skidding across the pavement. The little girl struggled. She couldn’t have been more than seven years old.

“No more monsters!” she screamed, kicking Luke in the legs. “Go away!”

“It’s okay!” He tried his best to hold her, but it was like holding a wildcat. Thalia looked too stunned to move. She still had her spear and shield ready.

“Thalia,” Luke said. “put your shield away! You’re scaring her!”

Thalia unfroze. She touched the shield and it shrank back into a bracelet. She dropped her spear. “Hey, little girl,” she said, sounding more gentle than he’d ever heard. “It’s all right. We’re not going to hurt you. I’m Thalia. This is Luke.”

“Monsters!” the little girl wailed, tears staining her face.

“No,” Luke promised. The poor thing wasn’t fighting as hard, but she was shivering, terrified of them. “But we know about monsters,” Luke explained softly. “We fight them too.”

Luke held her, more to comfort than restrain now. Eventually she stopped kicking. She felt cold. Her ribs were bony under her flannel pajamas. He wondered how long this little girl had gone without eating. She was even younger than Luke had been when he ran away. Despite her fear, she looked at him with large eyes. They were startlingly gray, beautiful and intelligent. A demigod—no doubt about it. Luke got the feeling she was powerful—or she would be, if she survived.

“You’re like me?” she asked, still suspicious, but she sounded a little hopeful, too.

“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “We’re…” he hesitated, not sure if she understood what she was, or if she’d ever heard the word demigod. Luke didn’t want to scare her even worse. “Well, it’s hard to explain, but we’re monster fighters. Where’s your family?”

The little girl’s expression turned hard and angry. Her chin trembled. “My family hates me. They don’t want me. I ran away.”

Luke’s heart felt like it was cracking into a million pieces. She had such pain in her voice—familiar pain. Luke looked at Thalia, and made a silent decision right there that they would take care of this kid.

Thalia knelt next to him. She put her hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Annabeth.”

Luke smiled. He’d never heard that name before, but it was pretty, and it seemed to fit her. “Nice name,” he told her. “I tell you what, Annabeth. You’re pretty fierce. We could use a fighter like you.”

Her eyes widened. “You could?”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke said earnestly. Then a sudden thought struck him. He reached for Hal’s dagger. It will protect its owner, Hal had said. He had gotten it from the little girl he had saved. Now fate had given them the chance to save another little girl.

“How’d you like a real monster-slaying weapon?” Luke asked her. “This is Celestial bronze. Works a lot better than a hammer.”

Annabeth took the dagger and studied it in awe. She was seven years old at most. What was he thinking giving her a weapon? But she was a demigod. They have to defend themselves. Hercules was only a baby when he strangled two snakes in his cradle. By the time Luke was nine, he’d fought for his life more than a dozen times. Annabeth could use a weapon.

“Knives are only for the bravest and quickest fighters,” Luke told her. His voice caught as he remembered Hal Green, and how he’d died to save them. “They don’t have the reach or power of a sword, but they’re easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemy’s armor. It takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I have a feeling you’re pretty clever.”

Annabeth beamed at him, and for that, all his problems seemed to melt. Luke felt as if he’d done one thing right. He swore to himself that he would never let this girl come to harm. “I am clever!” she said.

Thalia laughed and tousled Annabeth’s hair. Just like that—they had a new companion. “We’d better get going, Annabeth,” Thalia said. “We have a safe house on the James River. We’ll get you some clothes and food.”

Annabeth’s smile wavered. For a moment, she had that wild look in her eyes again. “You’re…you’re not going to take me back to my family? Promise?”

Luke swallowed the lump out of his throat. Annabeth was so young, but she’d learned a hard lesson, just like he and Thalia had. Their parents had failed them. The gods were harsh and cruel and aloof. Demigods had only each other.

Luke put his hand on Annabeth’s shoulder.“You’re part of our family now. And I promise I’m not going to fail you like our families did us. Deal?”

“Deal!” Annabeth said happily, clutching her new dagger.

Thalia picked up her spear. She smiled at Luke with approval. “Now, come on. We can’t stay put for long!”

The trio left Richmond, headed to their safe house on the James River. The three of them fought for survival and avoided monsters together. It wasn’t much, but it was home for them—the family they built.

At some point, Thalia got injured by a monster and Luke and Annabeth wanted to rest. Given the situation, Luke decided to take the girls to his mother's house to treat Thalia’s wounds and to gather up a few supplies as Annabeth rested. There, Luke finally meets his father, Hermes, for the first time in thirteen years. Luke was angry and resented his father. He demanded to know why he had never shown up when Luke had desperately prayed while he hid from his mother when she had fits, or when he was on his own, running away from monsters. During this conversation, Hermes inadvertently revealed that he knew of Luke's fate. Luke asked about it since Hal had only given him vague answers, but Hermes refused to tell him as he had already said too much. Luke then told his father that he couldn't possibly love him if he wouldn't tell him and angrily left with Thalia and Annabeth.

Eventually they met Grover Underwood, a satyr tasked to bring them back to Camp Half Blood. A safe haven for demigods. A place where monsters and mortals can’t come. Grover led the three of them to camp, but it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

Monsters attacked them from left to right. All three Furies and a pack of Hellhounds attacked, Cyclopes followed, and one thing led to another. Thalia sacrificed herself so Luke and Annabeth could get to camp safely. Luke thought she was stupid to sacrifice herself, he yelled at Thalia to not do it but she was as stubborn as her father. Luke held a crying Annabeth while fighting tears of his own as they entered the barrier between Camp Half Blood and the mortal world, where Thalia breathed her last breath as Zeus turned his daughter into a pine tree.

“Don’t worry, Annabeth. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Luke soothed the young girl in his arms, who mourned the loss of their friend—their sister. Luke vowed to himself that he won’t let the gods treat them horribly ever again.

MAYA WILLIAMS hated being a half-blood.

Why wouldn’t she? Maya grew up alone because she was one. Sure, she wasn’t chased by any monsters, but she lived with one. Her father—Oliver Williams—despised his daughter. Why? Her mother left when Maya was born, right after she was born. Oliver blamed his daughter for that. Maya had no clue on who her mother was, or why she left when she was born. When she would ask her father, he would get angry at her and hit her and yell at her to go to her room. There were times that Oliver would leave for days—weeks, even—leaving Maya with a nanny and the toys he had bought her just to leave him alone and the occasional visits from his secretary (who pitied the young girl). Maya didn’t understand why her father hated her when she only wanted to make her daddy happy.

When Maya was five, she started experiencing strange things. Like white doves flocking near her school that refused to leave how much the exterminators tried. Or that time when her grandparents brought her to the beach and dolphins started swimming towards her. Or that time when she was at the park and swans approached her as she fed the birds with her nanny. As a child, Maya didn’t pay it too much attention. She only thought that animals liked her so much that they couldn’t leave her alone. But when she turned eight, she knew she was different. Apart from having dyslexia and ADHD, she had this aura of beauty, causing everyone to like her, want her even. Aside from that, Maya could ask anyone for anything she wanted and she would get it. Like that time when her grandmother took her out to shop for clothes when she saw a pretty dollhouse that she wanted. It wasn’t because she was spoiled or anything, but when she would ask anyone out on the street for anything, they’d give it to her—no questions asked.

When Maya was six, she heard her father one night drunk in his room, crying over her mother. It was weird for Maya to see her father crying without any cameras because he was an actor, so as a curious little girl, Maya peeked into his room. She saw her father, a glass of amber liquid in his hand and a photo in the other, which Maya assumed was her mother.

“Oh, Aphrodite, why did you have to leave me?” Oliver sobbed, titling the glass to his lips. “You left me with nothing! You left me alone to raise—”

Maya ran to her room before she even heard the rest of what her father said. She packed a bag of clothes, grabbed food from the pantry, medical supplies in the bathroom, and money from her dad’s office before running away from home and never looking back. Maya wasn’t stupid. For six long years her father made it clear that he never loved her, therefore she was doing him a favor by leaving. But she understood something. Her mother’s name was Aphrodite. Her mother was the goddess of love. How did a six year old understand that? She didn’t know. It just clicked in Maya’s head—the doves, the dolphins, the swans, were somehow enough to prove that the goddess was her mother.

Maya ran through the streets of New Hampshire as fast as her little legs could carry her, determined to be as far as possible from the place she once called home. She thought it would be easy, like what she’d seen once on tv, but it wasn't—it was far worse than anything she had ever seen. Maya didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. She couldn’t go to her grandparents, they were in Europe. Maya never felt so alone, living by herself in a world not built for little kids, especially a kid like her.

Eventually, Maya got the hang of being on the run. By the second month, she was living from state to state, asking for help—using her charm—to get by. From time to time, the thought of her father would cross her mind. Was he looking for her? Was he worried for her? Did he miss her? Maya wanted nothing more than to have her father’s love, she wanted him to find her—to wrap her in his arms and tell her he missed her and he was sorry for making her feel unloved, but she knew better than to expect that. Maya watched fathers with their little girls, wondering what she did to deserve a father like the one she had—a father so careless enough to let his own child believe that she wasn’t loved and run away from home at seven years old. She couldn’t understand how he hurt a little kid, his own kid.

And then there was the thought of her mother. It was ironic, how Maya was a daughter of the goddess of love and a man who’s incapable of loving. Maya wondered if it was some sort of joke, that she’d been born to parents who didn’t care about her. Or maybe her mother just didn’t think she was pretty enough to be worthy of being her child. It didn’t matter, because she was all alone—her mother never answered her prayers and pleas, proving all of her points. Maya was all on her own, she always had been. The happy little girl was gone, replaced by a little girl terrified by everything the cruel world tossed at her.

At seven years old, Maya has told a million lies—that came from her mother, probably—just to survive. Her clothes were tattered, flaming locks of auburn hair were matted and dirty, and skin bruised like violets from tripping as she ran away from creepy older men who tried to follow her. Maya had been on the run for two years, she had everything under control. She shoplifted from convenience stores and whenever she was caught, Maya would tell them that she lost her parents (which was true, in a sense) and had nowhere else to go. It worked like a charm each and every time, well except for that one time she ran into the police. Maya dreamed of living in peace, a place where she could be just a kid and not having to think where she’d sleep for the night or where she’d get her next meal. Given the state of how she was living, Maya knew it was impossible and maybe she had to learn to live with the miserable life she had. It was then that she held a grudge at her parents. Maya was tired of believing her parents ever loved her, because someone who loves you wouldn’t do any of this. They’re just the ones who gave her life, nothing more.

Maya promised to herself that she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again, that she’d never be naive enough to believe that anyone could ever love her.

At eight years old, Maya met Ferdinand—a satyr who had sensed that Maya was a half blood. At first, Maya was scared. Of course she’d be scared, she was still a little girl and Ferdinand looked a lot older than her—she didn’t have great experiences with people older than her—and he had goat horns and legs.

“Don’t be scared, little one. I am a friend,” Ferdinand had explained to Maya, who hid behind a large trash can in an alley.

“Go away! I don’t wanna be friends!” Maya screamed, clutching her fraying backpack close to her chest.

“I can take you to a safer place, little one. A place where no one could hurt you.” Ferdinand explained, taking a step closer to the crying young girl. “I sense that you have been hurt before, am I right?”

Maya didn’t want to believe him. He was a stranger and strangers meant trouble. But something about the goat man felt safe. “I don’t wanna go to your stupid place! Leave me alone!”

“What’s your name?” Ferdinand asked, peering over the trash can.

Maya hesitated, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Not telling.”

“Alright, I’ll go first,” Ferdinand took the risk of walking to Maya’s side. “I’m Ferdinand. I am a satyr, protector of young demigods, or half bloods as they call children of the gods. And you are?”

Maya looked at him, eyes still glazed over with fresh tears. “Maya.”

“Well, young Maya, are you hungry?”

Maya shook her head no, but the grumble of stomach betrayed her. “Hungry,” she mumbled.

“If you’d like, you can come with me to that convenience store just ‘round the corner.” Ferdinand smiled at her, a kind genuine smile that Maya had never seen before in any other person she’s met. Reluctantly, she agreed, keeping her distance as Ferdinand led the way. Maya looked around, wondering how people are not looking at Ferdinand. He literally had goat legs and horns yet no one’s looking at him like an animal.

As soon as Maya was settled with a sandwich and juice box, she asked Ferdinand. “Why aren’t people scared of you, Mr. Ferdinand?”

Ferdinand chuckled. “It’s because of the Mist, young Maya.”

Maya raised a brow. “The Mist? Like perfume?”

“The Mist is what separates the mortal world from our world.”

Maya looked at him as if he was crazy. “What do you mean? Don’t we have one world?”

“Let me take you to Camp Half Blood, little one. Everything will make sense once you arrive.”

“Why should I go with you?” Maya asked, gripping the straps of her backpack, ready to run at any second.

“Because,” Ferdinand chuckled, acknowledging Maya’s skepticism. “There are kids like you at Camp Half Blood. It is a safe haven for young half-bloods like you. It is where the gods claim their children, young Maya.”

“You’re not lying?” Maya asked, big green eyes searching for any malice in the satyr’s eyes. She has had enough from malicious men who wanted to do unspeakable things to her. There was once this man who tried to lure her in with a good meal. When Maya declined, he tried to grab her, luckily Maya escaped—with the help of a little foot stomping and biting. It only fueled her hatred of men.

“I’m not, young Maya.” Ferdinand smiled at her. “It is our duty to protect. I promise I will not let any harm come to you as we travel to camp.”

“You promise?” Promises were never good, Maya hated promises. Promises were always meant to be broken. But this one felt like a tug in her heart, like a way to find who she was.

“On the River Styx, young one.”

Maya didn’t understand what the River Styx meant. Was it a river full of sticks? Despite her worries, Maya trusted him. The two then traveled to Long Island on foot from Massachusetts. Maya learned to trust Ferdinand, who kept her safe no matter what.

“You know, I have a nephew that’s around your age. His name is Grover, a fine protector in the making. He could be your friend once you arrive at camp.” Ferdinand mused as he and Maya—aboard his shoulders—trudged up the highway nearing Half Blood Hill.

“Really? You think he’s gonna play with me? An orphan-”

“You are not an orphan, Maya. You have a mother. I’m sure she’d claim you as soon as you step through the barrier.” Ferdinand insisted. Maya doubted that, but decided against voicing out her thoughts. She had prayed and prayed for so long, but her mother never answered, so why would she? Now that Maya was finally at camp?

As soon as Maya arrived at Camp Half Blood, she was in awe—giddy, almost. It wasn’t what Maya expected it to be. Camp was beautiful, far from the dumpster Maya had thought it to be. Every camper had necklaces, with beads indicating the years they’ve been at camp—Maya wanted one so badly and tried asking Ferdinand to make her one. There was a strawberry patch—much to Maya’s excitement, she loves strawberries and wanted to go straight to the patches. And for the main attraction, the twelve cabins, which Maya assumed one was her mother’s since Ferdinand had explained it was for each of the Olympian gods.

Maya was then welcomed by a crowd—campers of all ages, a grumbling man in a Hawaiian shirt, and half horse, half man.

“Welcome, young demigod,” Chiron greeted the young girl who was looking up at him with wide eyes. It’s not everyday that she sees another half human animal.

“Uh, what are you?” Maya asked, her hand immediately went flying to her mouth. “Sorry, I-”

Chiron laughed. “It’s alright, I apologize for not introducing myself properly. I’m Chiron, a centaur and the activities director of camp. And you are, young lady?”

“Maya,” she squeaked, eyes still wide. “Maya Williams.”

“Welcome to Camp, Maya. You’ll do great things, I know it.”

Suddenly, there was a collective gasp. Everyone stared at Maya like she’d just done something wrong.

“What did I do?” Maya asked, her lower lip trembling. She had been at camp barely a day, and she had already done something wrong. Was everything in her life always going to go wrong?

“Look down,” One of the campers said, pointing to Maya’s clothes.

Maya looked down and her eyes widened once more, she looked different. Her clothes weren't tattered and filthy anymore. Now, she was wearing a beautiful white sleeveless gown that went down to her ankles. Delicate gold armbands circled her biceps. An intricate necklace of amber, coral, and gold flowers glittered on her chest, and her hair was perfect: lush and long and flaming locks of auburn hair, braided to the side with gold ribbons. The filthy child, gone—as if she never was. Her mother had claimed her, just like that. Maya had been expecting that her mother would personally come and claim her, but she didn’t. Maya should’ve known better than to expect a literal goddess to come down and meet her child.

Chiron folded his front legs and bowed to her, and all the campers followed his example. “Hail, Amaya Williams,” Chiron announced proudly, as if she did something honorable. “Daughter of Aphrodite, lady of the doves, goddess of love!”

friendly reminder: this is how small maya was when she ran away 🤭

taglist:

@mischiefmoons (special mention to jo cuz i love love love trouble!verse 💯💘) @iliketopgun @pleasingregulus

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cardansriddle · 12 days

Text

Gilded Serendipity - (tom riddle x oc)

Part 3/10: "False God"

Story summary: A summer meant to be spent in the tranquil seaside mansion of Rosier's was not supposed to sway hearts like rustling leaves. Sereia Nova was most definitely not supposed to feel drawn to Tom Riddle. Yet August had a way of weaving chaos and desire together, only to dissolve into the shadows, leaving behind a bittersweet aftermath- an ephemeral illusion of love.

(gif not mine)

PART 1 PART 2

chapter warnings: sensual themes.

A/N: took me a whileee but here is the third part!!

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.

The subconscious was always a bitter thing. It liked playing wicked games with its owner, taking the things the person did not want to think about out of that pocket of forbidden thoughts and bringing it to the very front of the mind.

Sereia was cursing her brain as she was hurriedly descending the stairs. Her mind was cruel, replaying the night before like a broken film reel, unrelenting in its vividity. She could still feel the ghost of his touch trailing illicit whispers along her skin. The shape of his lips haunted her own.

She was going insane, and there was nothing she could do to put an end to it. With that one kiss, Tom had sunk his fangs deep into her vein, poisoning her blood with the feel of him so she would not dare forget it. Sereia had spent a good hour in the bath, scrubbing her skin raw until it was red and irritated, yet his touch remained imprinted. No amount of effort could wash away his claim.

"Merlin's beard, Ria, did you sleep at all? You look like...death."

She huffed and shot him a sharp glare. "Not in the mood, Tony.""

"Woah, alright. Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." He grumbled, putting his hands up as if to surrender. The witch was half-tempted to hit him, but stopped when Walburga entered the room with a sly smirk curling on her lips.

"Who woke up in your bed?" She questioned. Her eyes flicked to Sereia, and they suddenly shone with mirth. "Our Sereia here? It was about time."

Sereia's cheeks flushed at her comment, and she helplessly looked at Antoine to say something. But before he could utter a word, Avery strutted into the room.

"What was about time?" He asked lazily, barely attempting to cover his mouth as he yawned. "Well?"

"Sereia and Antoine here. Apparently they were up to no good last night." The brunette winked cheekily, and shot her an approving smile. "I must say, dear Ria, I did not know you had it in you. Always thought you were a prude."

Sereia was sure her whole face was the same shade as the maroon wine Avery was holding in his hand. The boy stared between them for a moment, before frowning. "Salazar's spit, Antoine. I wanted to woo her this summer." He paused, as if reconsidering, and then strode towards the girl. She barely registered more people filing into the room as he leaned closer to her. "But, I assure you, should you fall into my arms, I will make you see the stars. I am much better company in bed than Antoine."

"Avery, enough." Tony warned from next to her.

Walburga laughed. "Well, Avery, Abraxas, you owe me ten galleons. They fucked before winter."

I buried my face in my palms. "Tony!"

"Everyone, shut it. Sereia and I most definetely did not fuck. So please, shut your mouths."

"But—"

"You misheard, Walburga. She did not sleep in my bed. We are strictly platonic."

The girl seemed to recover from her embarassed state and added. "Exactly. It's more of a he's my brother type of situation and what you all are suggesting is— it's just gross."

She lifted her chin, attempting to rid herself of the embarassment and mortification that the conversation had caused. Straightening her spine, she regarded eeryone around her. They all looked either amused or confused. When her eyes met Riddle's, she had to surpress her shudder at the intensity behind his heated gaze. She could not quite read his expression, but the displeasure was as evident as ever. Flashes of the previous night suddenly invaded her mind, and she had to avert her gaze quickly lest she blushed once more.

Clapping his hands, and snapping the girl from her brief memory lane, Antoine drew the attention to himself. "Great, let us end this conversation now!" He questioned from beside her, and she felt the ghost of his fingers brushing against her elbow in reassurance. Her gaze subconsciously saught Riddle's, and when she saw the dark look he was shooting to where Antoine's hand was touching, the girl stepped aside. Her friend shot her a confused look, but she just shrugged.

"Can we eat now that that's settled?" She rose an expectant brow, gesturing towards the table that had already been set and filled with food. Avery was the first to break the pregnant silence, huffing and puffing about how he was starving. Seria shared a look with Antoine before following Avery's lead and taking a seat. As she placed some fruits onto her plate, the chair beside her was pulled back and she could feel before she could see that it was Riddle. It was bizarre— the way she could simply feel the air still whenever she was in his presence. It was like the very atmosphere was telling— no— warning her that he was near, that she should brace herself to face him.

His clothed arm brushed hers as he shifted, and the girl had to resist the urge to shiver.

"Salazar's spit, Riddle, are you not parched in those clothes?" Antoine suddenly questioned, and suddenly all eyes were on the wizard.

"Some people have the decency not to walk around naked, Rosier. Perhaps you should take notes." Walburga muttered snidely.

"It was the middle of the night! Am I supposed to walk in a whole three-piece suit at the crack of dawn?"

"A shirt and sleeping pants would suffice."

"Can you cut it out? This is making me lose my appetite." Abraxas grumbled abruptly, his voice slicing through the escalating bickering. A smirk of triumph flashed across his face as the table fell into a silence. He grabbed his cutlery and digged into his breakfast aggressively.

Sereia, feeling a lack of appetite, mechanically nibbled on assorted fruits. She tuned out Lestrange and Rosier as they began squabbling again about another matter she did not care to know. She was about to reach for her goblet when a warm breath tickled her cheek, drawing her attention.

"Had I known you'd run to Rosier to finish what I started, perhaps I would not have let you slip away so easily, little siren." Tom whispered lowly, Tom murmured, his lips grazing the curve of her ear with each syllable. The girl try as she might, could not help the shudder that ran through her body.

He noticed. Of course, he did. He never missed a thing. Yet, before he could revel in his discernment, she retorted, her voice a low hiss meant to avoid alarming the others nearby. "How dare you?" she countered, struggling to keep her voice subdued. She truly could not believe the nerve of him to imply such a thing. "I did not run to anyone. Antoine and I certainly did not spend the night together, so I'd appreciate if you refrained from implying that I'm a whore."

"I never said that."

"You implied it."

"I did not."

"Whatever. But if we are talking about whores, why not talk about you?" She turned her head to meet his gaze squarely. "You are the resident whore of Hogwarts, perhaps second place to Avery, or maybe you just hide it better." She watched as surprise flickered across his features for a fleeting moment before he swiftly masked it, as if it had never been there at all. "I will not be a plaything, Riddle. While you may find amusement in Walburga, you will not find me so compliant," she declared, her tone firm, before redirecting her attention to the others at the table. Meanwhile, Tom studied her profile, a barely perceptible smirk tugging at his lips. She was a fiery little thing, and oh how he relished a challenge.

Not used not having the last word, he leaned to whisper in her ear once again. "You may resist all you want, but I will have you succumb to me." he murmured, his gaze searching her face for a reaction. She responded with a smirk, but she did not deign to meet his eyes.

"Maybe I will consider it... if you beg."

He laughed loudly at that, genuinely amused at her bravery. Everyone at the table suddenly diverted their attention towards them, disbelief flashing across their features at seeing Riddle laugh.

"Is he—"

"Salazar's spit..."

"What's so funny?"

Tom hummed softly, a languid smile lingering on his lips as he casually draped an arm over the back of Sereia's chair. She clenched her teeth in frustration at his nearness, struggling to push aside the unwelcome flood of thoughts crowding her mind. "Miss Nova here has a good sense of humour, that is all."

Sereia lowered her gaze, avoiding the curious stares of those around her, and brought her goblet to her lips in a feeble attempt to distract herself.

"Sereia—"

The girl sprung from her seat with far more enthusiasm than was necessary. "Time to go for a swim!" she declared with a forced smile, her discomfort palpable, before hastily departing from the table, nearly breaking into a run as she fled the house.

Walburga's gaze shifted to Tom, flickering between the self-satisfied, lazy grin etched on his face and the intensity of his gaze fixed on the doorway through which Sereia had hastily departed through mere moments ago.

"Look at little Sereia starting to charm boys." Abraxas snorted, looking at Antoine with a mirthful smile. "You will have to work overtime to ward off the boys now, mate."

"Shut it. I do not do anything of the sort. She is free to court whomever she likes whenever she likes." He paused, rethinking his words. "Except you all."

"Really? How about the time in third year you hexed Arnold because he kissed her on the cheek?" Avery rose a brow.

"Or the time in fourth year you petrified that git who was going on a date with her?" Malfoy added.

"Remember when—"

"Alright! Alright! So fucking be it! None of you are allowed to pursue anything romantic, sexual— especially sexual— relations with her. Off-limits!"

"Mate, that's unfair! She's not even your sister, you can't put a ban like that!" Avery whined, rolling his eyes in a very exaggerated manner.

"She is like my little sister in every manner except by blood."

Dahlia Greengrass pouted, looking affronted at the way the wizards were behaving. "Leave it be, everyone. Would you rather ruin your friendship with Antoine by pursuing Sereia? The entirety is Hogwarts isn't enough for you all to corrupt?" She questioned. "Leave the poor girl alone."

Riddle observed the scene unfolding with a curious glint in his eyes.

"Thank you, Dahlia." Antoine said gratefully. "Now that everything is loud and clear, let's go join Ria before she starts wondering what took us so long."

Everyone muttered their agreement as they stood.

"Tom, would you like to head to the library first?" Walburga asked as everyone started filing out of the room.

Tom glanced at the witch momentarily before looking away distractedly. "I shall like to rest for a bit before rejoining the company." He did not wait for a reply before striding away in the opposite direction.

Walburga watched his retreating back, the familiar bitter taste feeling her mouth as it always did whenever he disregarded her in such a belittling manner. She begrudgingly followed after the group, glancing back one last time in hopes that Tom also would, but he had already disappeared up the stairs, and the girl heaved a sigh in disappointment.

Her sharp gaze fixated on the distant figure, observing as the girl who managed to coax a rare laugh from Tom Riddle swam gracefully in the water. Sereia Nova had never posed a threat in her mind. Antoine's best friend had always been a sweet little thing, too pure to be around the likes of them. Though Walburga harbored fondness for the girl, her desires lay elsewhere — with Tom Riddle.

She pondered the allure that Sereia held for Tom. Was it her innocence, her sweetness? Or was she simply another conquest in his relentless pursuit to tarnish purity? Perhaps, she mused, innocence was a challenge for him, something to be conquered and corrupted at his whim.

At least that is what Walburga told herself as she smiled bittersweetly at the younger witch.

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.

"Ria." Antoine began, his tone firm, signaling to Sereia that a lecture was imminent.

"I know what you're going to say, but it's nothing alright? I am not involved with Riddle...like that." Sereia interjected, her words rushed and defensive, preempting Antoine's anticipated disapproval.

Antoine's furrowed brow softened slightly, but skepticism still lingered in his gaze. With a resigned sigh, he conceded, "I will choose to take your word for it. But I will tell you this, Ria— my friends are all off-limits. They are the worst pick of the bunch for any girl." He paused, as if another thought had just invaded his already disturbed mind. "Actually, just do not go for any Slytherins. You can go for uh...Hufflepuff perhaps? They do not have a bad bone in their body. Be kind and all that shite, yeah? Yeah. No Gryffindorks either I suppose, they're all gits—"

"Tony!"

"What?"

"Would you like to arrange who I will be marrying too? Stop acting like my father. Fine, I will not date your friends out of my respect for you, but other than that you have no right to dictate who I can and can't date."

"But—" Antoine began to protest, but Sereia cut him off with a firm stare.

"Dahlia!" Sereia's sharp call drew the attention of the girl, who began to swim over with a curious expression. Sereia shot a warning look at Antoine, silently telling him to behave.

"Yes, darling?"

"Nothing. It's just an effective way of shutting him up." Sereia smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"What is?"

"Any mention of you."

As Dahlia's cheeks flushed with a soft hue of pink, Antoine's face transformed into a vivid crimson, the color spreading like wildfire across his features. Sereia couldn't suppress a satisfied grin as she watched the effect of her diversion tactic unfold. "Well, I'll leave you be. It's time for my nap!"

"You just woke up!"

"Nope, that was a while ago." "Nope, that was a while ago," she singsonged, her voice carrying over the gentle lapping of the waves as she began trudging out of the water, droplets cascading from her form like shimmering diamonds. Her eyes met Avery's across the distance, his grin mirroring her own playful one as he responded with a mock salute, the sun casting playful glimmers in his eyes.

As she approached the shore, she glanced over her shoulder at the call of her name, catching Abraxas's gaze, his eyes alight with something she could not decipher as he swam towards her, his sleek form slicing effortlessly through the water. His expression morphed into a sickly sweet smile as he drew nearer.

"My dear, dear Sereia," he greeted her with exaggerated warmth, his voice dripping with faux sincerity.

"What is it?" Sereia replied, her tone laced with playful anticipation, already bracing herself for his inevitable request.

"Would you be so kind and bring us a wine?"

Sereia raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you ask one of the house elves?"

"You see, I'm craving a particular one and seeing as the creatures can't read...it complicates things. Can you get me the Chateau d'Yquem?"

Sereia couldn't help but laugh at his audacity, her playful demeanor unwavering. "Does Antoine know you're drinking his most expensive reserves dry?" she retorted, her tone teasing

Abraxas replied with a casual shrug, his smile unapologetic. "He encourages it"

Sereia rolled her eyes. "Alright. But know that you are very annoying." She conceded, her words accompanied by a playful splash in his direction.

"Thank you, Sereia," Abraxas replied, his sweet smile bordering on saccharine as he watched her depart, a twinkle of mischief gleaming in his eyes. Sereia narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously before turning on her heel and heading out of the water. She quickly slipped on her sheer beach cover over her wet swimsuit, debating whether to change into dry clothes or return to the water after fulfilling Abraxas' request.

She hummed a random melody as she walked away from the private beach and slipped into the garden that lead to the winery, running her hands through her wet hair and slicking it back.

She trekked the familiar path through the greenery, each step accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. The summer sun cast golden rays that danced across her skin, warming her with its tender caress. As she neared the fountain, its marble basin shimmered in the sunlight and the girl resisted the urge to dip her fingers into the cool water.

"Out for a stroll, little siren?" A familiar voice, smooth as silk and laced with a taunting edge, shattered the serenity of her surroundings.

Her movements stilled, her senses alert to the presence behind her. She hesitated to turn, wary of facing the figure who she had been trying to cast out of her mind. She knew as soon as she met his eyes the thoughts of yesterday's kiss would come back to haunt her once again—or the bold teasing she had unabashedly engaged in during breakfast.

With a steadying breath, she shut her eyes, grappling with the urge to flee or confront him. Before she could decide, a warm breath ghosted over her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Tom had drawn closer, his proximity suffusing her with a mixture of apprehension and something she dared not name.

"Or have you come to see me beg?" He murmured into her ear.

Suppressing the rising panic in her chest, she attempted to step away, only to find his hand firmly encircling her waist, anchoring her in place. Her breath caught in her throat as his touch ignited a flurry of conflicting emotions within her. Her gaze dropped to the hand sliding further until his entire arm covered her stomach.

"Unhand me, Riddle. I am just going to the winery." Sereia tried to protest against his advances, her voice twinged with defiance that wavered due to his proximity.

"Are you now?" He asked, and even though she could not see him, she could feel the amused smirk that was no doubt on his face.

"Yea—Yes. I am expected to return." She insisted.

Tom hummed, a low, tantalizing sound that sent a tremor through her core. "What a shame," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. Just as she thought he was going to let her go, he abruptly spun her around to face him. Caught off guard, she stumbled, her heart pounding erratically as she braced her hands against his chest lest she crashed into him. "You will not be going back anytime soon."

"What?"

"Can't have you running to Rosier to finish what I started. That would make me unseemly would it not?"

"Riddle, what are you say—"

"It would create the impression that I leave a lady unsatisfied. Which is insulting." His lips brushed hers with every syllable, and Sereia was finding it harder by the second to resist the temptation of him. She desperately willed herself to push him away and leave before the situation would escalate any further. But she was immobilised. He had her right where he wanted, and her traitorous body was craving him. Any further protest was cut short as his lips captured hers in a searing kiss and she found it bothersome how she did not hesitate to kiss him back.

His lips moved with a fervent urgency, coaxing a response from her that she couldn't deny. Each brush of his mouth against hers sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, erasing whatever had remnants of rational thought.

Her hands moved on their own accord, sliding over his chest, collarbones, and moving up to tangle themselves in his dark hair. He groaned as she tugged at his locks and the world around her fell away at the guttural sound. His kiss was a tempest, fierce and consuming, igniting a fire within her that blazed with undeniable fervor. She yielded to him, her senses overwhelmed by the heady rush of his touch, every nerve in her body electrified.

His hand moved to the hem of sheer cover dress, fingers brushing against her inner thighs before bunching up the fabric and tugging it upwards. Tom stepped towards her, forcing her to blindly walk backwards until she felt marble digging into her back. He broke away from the kiss to momentarily lift her to sit on the edge of the fountain.

Sereia suppressed a whine at the loss of contact, but a loud moan escaped her throat when his lips fell to the hollow of her throat and sucked, no doubt leaving a bruise with his ministrations. She should have told him to stop— or at the very least not mark her up for all to see, but she found she did not care. She wanted—no— needed more of him.

Her fingers dropped to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling, trying to pull them open. She had only gotten half of them undone when he grabbed her wrists. "No." He panted. "This time I will make you beg. We can save that for next time."

Sereia was confused, but was quick to retort. "What makes you think there is going to be a next time?" She asked through laboured breaths, dazed eyes roving over his dilated pupils and his swollen lips. For the first time ever, he looked like a mess, and Sereia could not get enough of the sight.

Tom only smirked in response, his fingers going under her cover to pull at the strings of her bikini bottoms. She trembled beneath his touch, her pulse racing with a heady mix of anticipation and desire.

"Because I am going to make you beg for a next time."

Sereia's jaw dropped when he sunk to his knees, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.

#tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle fic #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x female reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle angst #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x you #gilded serendipity

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nerdywriter36 · 3 months

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Secret Fic Project - Official Announcement!

So this announcement was really supposed to come out yesterday and we forgot, but here it is now! @brendadaaedestler and I are finally officially announcing the secret fic that we have been working on! Mid-January, we announced that this was going to be a modern Cherik AU, and now, we can finally provide all of the details!

Title

First and foremost, a title reveal! This took us a little while to come up with, but when we finally settled on it, we knew that it was the perfect fit for this fic. So, without further ado, the title of our fic is...

Sticky Notes and Serendipity!

To go along with the title reveal, Chloe also put together a cover for our fic:

I'm still so in love with it, even though I first saw it months ago 😭 (click for better quality as usual)

The sticky notes will make more sense once you all get to start reading the story, but there are some little snippets here if you look closely enough ;)

Premise

A full summary will come when we start posting the fic, but for now, the main premise of this fic is that this is a modern AU where Erik and Christine end up neighbours in the same apartment building.

Release

The first chapter is going to be going up next Saturday, February 10! Following that, chapters will be going up weekly on Saturdays.

We're so excited to finally be getting to share this AU with everyone! We're so proud of it and so looking forward to putting it out into the world for everyone to read <3

#my writing #that's my friend!#secret fic project #sticky notes and serendipity #phic #e/c #poto #poto 1990 #cherik #modern AU

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phoenixmetaphor · 6 months

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angry kitty Leon from @thebrandywine ‘s [cat scratch fever]

#my fanart #leon kennedy #kitty!leon #look i know i said i was done with this #i am just very bad at anticipating what i will and will not drop like a hot potato for no reason #anyway mostly i was like #i didn’t fuck his chest up enough #i want super light fine scars #i know i could literally do that with any shirtless leon pic #but i wanted to do it here #just serendipity that i finished the day of a chapter update #in case you didn’t have enough emotions in your fun catboy fic #this chapter delivers the antics and the feelings #kitty is So Upset #things won’t stop happening to him #the original inspiration for this piece of course #was angry tail #i haven’t given up october ink drawings just yet but probably it will be a couple more days before there’s any movement on that front #i have a niche au only i care about to finish before getting back to ink #resident evil

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cherrys-writings · 2 months

Note

Are you going to continue the grayson×flower story?

Yes I will be, as soon as I figure out the perfect way to introduce Avery and Flower 😅

I'm open to suggestions

#Suits Scones and Serendipity #the inheritance games #the inheritance games fic #grayson hawthorne fanfic #the hawthorne legacy #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #fanfiction #grayson hawthorne #libby grambs #nash hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #grayson hawthorne x reader #xander hawthorne

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theharrowing · 2 years

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Serendipity 🌸 9

So what if your love is a little obsessive? You’d literally kill for that special someone. How is that not romantic? 💖

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🌸 Jimin x Reader

🌸 word count: 1.2k + images of texts & tweets

🌸 yandere, college social media au, idiots to lovers, crack, smut, angst, fluff, slash, 18+

🌸 chapter warnings: infidelity, everyone’s a slut, face sitting, oral sex

🌸 written text beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🌸 this is a reupload of an older chapter; originally posted march 2022

When you arrive at the party, it’s in full swing. Bodies are writhing and meandering all over, and there’s a haze to the place from a fog machine, vape pens, and smokeables. The house smells like liquor and sweat, and you let out a long, deep exhale, excited to let loose and cause some drama.

It doesn’t take long to spot the pink-haired menace in the kitchen, waving around a red plastic cup while loudly complaining to Jungkook and Hoseok about this and that.

He already looks drunk, which you find a bit disappointing; you’d been hoping he’d at least be good to go down on you in the bathroom later, but now you’re not sure how well he’ll perform. You suppose you could always try and find out.

Jimin spots you and shoves Hoseok aside, who crashes into Jungkook with a giggle. Jimin makes his way over, sets his drink down on the nearby countertop, and cradles your face between his palms. You swat Jimin’s hands away.

“You’re drunk already?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Finish my drink and I’ll have some water,” Jimin suggests, nibbling on his bottom lip.

You size Jimin up and decide that, although he’s a mess, standing in tight jeans and a bright pink crop top, he’s an adorable mess, so perhaps you’ll play nice.

“Deal,” you respond. “I planned on making you beg some more, so I need you to sober up a little.”

Jimin’s face drops into a surprised O shape before he quickly composes himself and smirks. With that, Jimin turns stiffly on his heels, makes his way to the fridge, and finds an unopened bottle of water.

Jungkook and Hoseok have been watching the exchange, and although the music is probably too loud for them to have heard what you were talking about, you don’t really care if they had. Probably close to everyone at this party knows Jimin was an asshole who cheated on Tae, who was then cheated on by Tae, so there’s no need to pretend nothing is going on.

You pick up Jimin’s drink, giving it a cursory sniff to discover it’s definitely way more gin than soda water, and move to where Hoseok and Jungkook are to find an opened mixer bottle and make this shit more drinkable. Hoseok wolf-whistles to you, so you turn to him, tilting your head with a smirk.

“Hi Seokie,” you croon, watching as Hoseok blushes. “You two having fun?”

“We’re about to,” Jungkook responds with a devious smile.

“Once our boys get here,” Hoseok says, looking to Jungkook anticipatorily.

You cock your head to the side. “These other boys wouldn’t happen to include Yoongi, would they?”

“And Namjoon,” Hoseok and Jungkook say in unison, giggling together.

“Wow,” you respond, turning your mouth down to show you’re impressed. “That’s hot!”

Jungkook leans across Hoseok until he’s down to your eye level and mutters, “You two can join us, if you’d like. That is, if Joonie doesn’t mind.”

You scoff, definitely turned on by the idea of watching those four do whatever it is they might do, not to mention joining them, but decide that that would be way too kind to Jimin, and he hasn’t earned it yet. Plus, there’s a little part of you that may feel jealous watching Jimin fuck those men, even if they were also fucking you. They’re just so sexy; you’re not sure if you’re willing to share anymore.

“I’ll consider it,” you respond with a wink, then turn to find Jimin standing against the counter with his back to you.

Jimin’s arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s watching Taehyung and Seokjin in the living room. Although their presence seems innocuous enough—just two pals who are hosting a party and chattering with the guests—you and Jimin and at least half of the guests here know there’s something else happening between them. You approach Jimin and begin to chide him for his terrible cocktail mixing skills when Taehyung turns and sees you. The smile that was tugging on Taehyung’s lips disintegrates, falling in an instant.

You watch Taehyung waver, unsure of whether he wants to come to talk to you before deciding to walk around you and make himself a drink instead. Jimin takes you by the arm and begins to tug you toward the living room when Taehyung’s voice booms across the room.

“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Taehyung shouts.

Jimin stops in his tracks, shoulders bunching to his ears. He turns and responds, “Living room.”

You don’t turn; you don’t really want to engage with Taehyung anymore. Earlier, you thought it might be fun to fuck with him, but now that he’s angry and seems like he’s out for revenge, you decide it’s best to stay quiet. Angry Taehyung seems far more intimidating than you could have imagined.

“Stay out of the second floor,” Taehyung instructs. “Only one of you is allowed in the bathroom at a time. If I catch you two fucking, I’ll take you both by the hair and throw you into the street myself!”

“Whoa, Taehyung, let’s calm down,” Namjoon’s deep, reasonable voice rings from the entrance to the kitchen.

You look up to find a concerned but stern Namjoon standing with a stunned Yoongi clinging to his arm. Yoongi looks between you and Taehyung, then back at Namjoon.

“Namjoon, stay out of this,” Taehyung whines, suddenly sounding exasperated. “Jimin’s been cheating on me, and I’m just…I’m not in the mood.”

“I literally found you and Jin making out tonight! Before we had broken up!” Jimin shouts.

“Yeah, because I fucking wanted you to!” Taehyung responds.

The room is tense, and the music is loud, creating a dizzyingly uncomfortable atmosphere. You turn to Jimin and mutter, “Should we just go?” to which Jimin responds, “Yeah, probably."

In two big gulps, you down your drink and set the cup on the counter. You consider saying something to Taehyung but decide to leave it alone, taking Jimin’s hand and making your way to the door.

"Have a good one,” Yoongi mutters, and you nod to him as you exit the house, lamenting the foursome that will undoubtedly transpire now that they’ve shown up with Namjoon.

“Now what?” Jimin asks, hugging his torso tightly.

He must not have brought a jacket, or maybe he forgot it inside, which is pretty stupid for February. You take off your black bomber jacket and sling it over Jimin’s shoulders since your shirt, albeit low cut, at least has sleeves and covers your stomach.

“Now,” you respond, “we stop at the convenience store, grab something to drink, go to my place, and you beg me for forgiveness until I cave in and let you fuck me into the mattress.”

“What about, like, us?” Jimin mutters.

You sigh. You’re not ready for this conversation yet, especially out in the street on a cold winter night.

“Fuck me, and if it’s good enough, we’ll discuss it,” you respond. “But let’s go, it’s too fucking cold to do this out here.”

“Okay, fine,” Jimin huffs, and you begin to make your way toward your place, with a stop at the convenience store along the way.

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin smau #jimin yandere #bts smut #bts poly #bts smau #bts yandere #namjoon harem #fic: serendipity

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