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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months

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Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?”

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him.

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him.

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.”

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.”

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant.

“What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.”

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously.

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?”

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan smut #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

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nymphomatique · 7 months

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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

#the ask had me sweatin #u guys need to start writing instead of me 😭#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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providencehq · 20 days

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Powehouse AU: aka Danny Fenton tries to be a normal college student in the midwest yet is forced to continue to be a hero in secret as ghosts won't leave him alone and soon, neither will the Justice League when he pops up as a new hero.

Additional info and art under readmore:

ANYWAYS, here is some powerhouse au information.

Danny as he grows up manages to keep the ghost situation under control to a point he isn't overly active as Phantom. He finishes highschool no problem and goes to uni over in Central City for Maths and Engineering (not an overtly big fan of the space motif and instead, I'm shoving my boy into something cooler: PLANES! He's studying specifically mechanical engineering and has plans to go to a trade school after his B.S. for A&P mechanics.)

Sam goes to Gotham State University for Ethnobotany and works in one of the unis library part time. Tucker is going to Star City College for Computer Science and a minor in archeology, he tutors part time.

Danny's main design is inspired by a combo of military and blue collar uniforms (you can also see exactly what I reference). I also couldn't decide a face mask so you get all three options.

So as Danny moves to Central City and attends uni, his rouges do sadly follow him and wreck havoc. Danny is stressed from school so he doesn't do quips as much, in fact, he's trying to get this under control as fast as possible so he can go back and study. Here's the thing, no one outside of Amityville has seen Phantom so all of the sudden what seems to be a meta? an alien? something not human? coming out and taking down rouges that, due to being ghosts, other heros struggle to contain and handle.

Speculation rises about Phantom and who he is. Danny is smart and thought this through, kinda. His costume is a modified look what he wore as a kid but he pulls in more military/uniform aspects to make it seem like he belongs to someone or some organization. That maybe somewhere in the US, an organization managed to make a hero of sorts that mimics Green Lanterns. It's just a big red herring, Danny wants them to look for someone older, probably more experienced, and a different background. Not some tired college student struggling with his studies.

Things do start to get dicey when heroes actively try to interact with him, mostly the Flash (because Central City), Superman, and the Green Lantern. Most interactions end up with Phantom not wanting to fight and fleeing or when cornered to fight, he's messy and inexperienced compared to the other heroes. He doesn't stay around and rarely even talks. It's concerning more so because the heroes aren't sure with who they're dealing with and after a few interactions, they aren't sure Phantom is on their side. Just too many questions around him.

This leads to heroes actively trying to capture and bring in Phantom. The more failed attempts that happen, the more flightly Phantom acts when they end up interrupting him capturing his rouges. They do eventually capture Phantom (thank you Superman) and that's kinda where I end on information on this AU. It's just me having fun with interactions and also designing costumes :)

ALSO DANNY IS ROMA/DIDICOY I NEED TO MENTION THAT!!! (Dick Grayson 🤝 Danny Fenton being didicoy)

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #powerhouse au #mine #my art

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obsessivevoidkitten · 7 months

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Alien Escape

Male Alien Yandere × Gender Neutral Reader

(CW: Noncon, oviposition, breeding, overstimulation, crying, fear, minor character death, weird alien dick, minor mentions of medical experimentation (NOT on reader), alien, implied abduction, general yandere behavior)

Word Count: 680

(Just something I typed up on my phone because it was in my head and demanded to be written, a nice little mini-fic. Hope you enjoy!)

Tears streamed down your face, and your legs burned and ached from running so fast through the labyrinthine halls. Your frenzied footsteps on the cold tile floor were completely drowned out by the incessant blaring of the alarms.

When you slipped and broke the containment field, you had doomed everyone.

At last, you had made it to the exit. But it was covered by a heavier metal door with no handle.

Of course. The entire site was on lockdown now.

Maybe you could double back and hide in one of the abandoned rooms. If they weren't sealed off by now, too.

You ran off down a side corridor, but it was a dead end. Maybe it wouldn't come this way since it wasn't the way out.

Suddenly, the alarms and all the lights turned off. Probably sucked dry due to the escaped alien's ability to absorb energy.

You huddled into a corner in the darkness, nothing visible.

Then you saw light. Coming from far down the hall. The pale sickly green glow of the alien slowly approaching.

When he entered your field of view fully you gasped. He had a struggling Colonel Hughs in his arms, a hand over his mouth.

The alien slowly walked towards you and as he did so, he impaled Hughs with a spike that protruded from his wrists causing the colonel to rapidly age before turning to dust.

The alien had absorbed his life force.

It was humanoid, but had no eyes, nose, or mouth. Scars from "research" littered his body. Its wrist spike retracted back into itself as it slowly stepped towards you.

His strange ribbed cock poking out of his genital slit and lengthening as he approached.

It looked slimy and writhed as if with a will of its own. All while glowing with the same green light the rest of his body did.

You cowered and sobbed. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die.

And you weren't going to.

The alien had no intention to hurt you. He wanted you to be his incubator.

Out of all the people in the facility you were the only one he sensed any sympathy from. And no ill will. He only sensed regret and anxiety whenever your gaze landed on him.

It was the only modicum of kindness he experienced while being captured, contained, and experimented on.

He clung to it, focused on it. It was a lifeline for him.

And when you broke the containment unit he was housed in, he was convinced you had been purposefully trying to free him.

As he loomed over you, he could sense your fear. He gently wiped your tears away with his prehensile cock before pulling you up, turning you around, and pulling your pants down.

Yes~

This would do perfectly as a receptacle for his egg.

You begged and babbled, sure that he was about to turn you into dust.

When his slimy dick worked its way into you the noises you were making progressed into screams.

He put his hands carefully on your fragile human hips as his priggle writhed all around inside you, causing you to squirm and moan involuntarily in pleasure.

If he had a mouth your alien mate would have cooed at that sound.

The alien's dick molded itself to your inside perfectly, to kiss every little fold of your intimate depths, leaking viscous goo as it did so.

After your tenth forced orgasm from your otherworldly lover your legs finally gave out and he had to hold you close as he pumped one final time into you.

He deposited a large egg inside causing your tummy to bulge out, quite beautifully in his opinion.

The creature put his hand on your head and used his abilities to make you fell into a well earned sleep.

Green slime leaked from your entrance and down your legs when he pulled out of you.

It was a good thing you were a janitor, because once he had you back on his home world you'd be dealing with this mess daily.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere exo #yandere exophilia #yandere alien #yandere monster #male yandere x gn reader #gender neutral reader x male yandere #Yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #yandere boyfriend #Alien boyfriend #My OCs

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volensnolenss · 9 days

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𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄

summary: working as a doctor is so exhausting, especially at jujutsu tech, however, when your man is around, everything becomes different;

content: nsfw!mdni, mention of blood, riding, nipple play, dirty talk, praising, clothed sex, blow job, creampie, cum eating;

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento;

GOJO:

“don't lie, i know perfectly you can heal yourself with reversed cursed technique” you roll your eyes and examine the wound on his chest; a maroon stain protruded under his t-shirt, “sugar, you're not going to leave me to die?” gojo is watching the movement of your hands, which lift his clothes. you just click at him in response, and he grins at your outraged face.

you don't have time to put your palm to his wound, as suddenly it disappears, and satoru grabs your hand, pulling you to him, “missed you so much” he murmurs, burrowing into your hair, “oh, really?”you flirt by putting both palms to gojo's face, and his eyes immediately light up with fire.

“yeah, baby, keep it going" he whistles animatedly at you while you ride on his cock, capturing its entire length, “so good” you whisper, moving your hips and arching your back, creating the perfect angle for your pussy, “then go ahead, pretty” the corner of gojo's mouth stretches out and his hand squeezes your chest, making your nipple tense.

“ngh... satoru, you're- mhh” getting lost in your own growing sensations of his thick cock against and spreading your walls, your pussy throbs as he licks your breast and slightly biting your nipple. “come on, baby, make a mess on my cock” he smiles and his abs are straining with every thrust you make — his shaft is pounding you so deeply that you can feel every inch of it, “i'm cumming” you moan, digging your nails into gojo’s chest

“that’s it, sweet…” his voice is strangled and tense, experiencing his orgasm, he looks at your cunt soaked in your juices. you’re groan and stood up, trying to clean yourself up, “so fast?” he gets dressed and arches his eyebrow at the fact that you look like nothing has happened, “don’t forget who i am” you grin.

GETO:

he quietly came to you and crept up unnoticed, suguru's hands lay on your hips, “suguru” you stretch out his name and turn to him and, smiling, you kiss briefly, “is something bothering you?” you address him while he adjusts your hair, “just you” he grabbed you by your waist.

geto pushes you to your desk, pressing his groin against your ass, “that's a problem” you were dazed by his movements — he lifted your skirt and roughly tore your tights with a bang, “mhh, suguru” you're meowing when his fingers rub your aching pussy, “so wet for me already?”he grunted, pushing your underpants aside, and a slight chill washed over your skin.

“so pretty for me right now” he stroked his hard cock and pressed his tip to your soaking wet cunt, “ahh, suguru-” you whine while every inch of his length thrusts into you, “fuck, baby, you're so tight” suguru grumbles, accelerating with each thrust. your soft walls embrace his cock, moans come from your pouty lips from each of his tireless movements.

his hand roughly squeezes your wrists, fastening them to your back, continuing to bang his hips against your ass, “you're taking me so well, sweetheart” suguru coos to you, listening to your whimpering and watching you squirm under the pressure of approaching orgasm, “i ca-an't, suguru, feeling good” tears have accumulated in the corners of your eyes, “wait, baby, I'm close just wait” he growls, spasms run through him, cumming profusely into you.

geto gently removes the tears from your eyes, settling between your legs, which are still slightly shaking, “my girl, you were great” his hands gently stroke your skin, relieving you of tension.

NANAMI:

“nanami, honey, what happened to you?” your eyes widened when you noticed a reddening spot on his side, “i've miscalculated,” he sighs, answers briefly and unbuttons his shirt. you can't look away from his perfectly chiseled muscular figure. men like him are really one in a billion.

of course, kento knows that you are a sweet girl and she is excited by your slightest touch every time, and this time when you treated his wound, he tensed up, especially when you touched his abs, “everything is okay?” you're surprised he wants to leave so soon,“ i have a lot of work today. thanks” he's about to get up, but you notice a bump on his trousers and giggle softly, “relax, i'll help you.”

“does that feel good?” you wrap your hand around his cock, pressing your thumb on its tip, smearing pre cum, “darling, i think-” nanami bites his lips, his cheekbones become sharper when you kiss his shaft. a moan escapes his lips, his fingers grab your hair. you're doing it perfectly — kento can't express it by focusing on how you swallow his fat cock more and running your hand the rest of the length.

“yes… yes, like that” he whispers, looking at your moist lips and lowered fluffy eyelashes. you shake your head and moan softly when his cock rests against your throat. nanami swallows, his hip slightly rising towards you. you lose your composure, moving away from him, you run your hand more sharply over his wet cock, pushing him to the edge.

“hell, I'm close-” his cock throbs in your hand, he swears under his breath when his cum covers yours and tongue, continuing to lick his swollen tip, “i need you more often” he grinned, rubbing your lips and tracing their contour with his finger, he pushes it into your mouth.

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pucksandpower · 1 month

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Hail to the Chief

Lando Norris x First Daughter of the US!Reader

Summary: in which Lando doesn’t realize exactly who he took back to his hotel room after the Miami Grand Prix (and almost causes an international incident in the process)

You stir awake, blinking slowly while you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. The sheets rustle as you stretch, a pleased smile spreading across your face. Strong arms tighten around your waist, and you glance over your shoulder to see Lando gazing at you with warm eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your bare shoulder.

You hum in contentment, snuggling back against his muscular chest. The sunlight streams in through the curtains, casting the hotel room in a cozy glow. Clothes are strewn across the floor, reminders of your passionate night together after meeting at the club.

Lando’s hand trails up your side, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. You shiver as his lips find the sensitive spot behind your ear, his breath hot.

“Ready for round two?” He whispers, his voice husky.

You twist in his arms to face him, locking your legs with his beneath the sheets. “I thought you’d never ask,” you purr, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss.

Just as things start heating up, loud banging erupts from the suite’s door. You break apart, startled. Lando frowns.

“Housekeeping?” You ask in confusion. More pounding follows, furious and insistent.

“I don’t think so,” Lando says warily.

Before either of you can react, the door crashes open, wood splintering. Men in dark suits pour into the suite, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. You yelp, grabbing the sheet to your chest. Lando scrambles upright, shock written across his handsome face.

“What the hell?” He exclaims.

The men converge on the bed in a swarm. Two sequester you, gently steering you away. The others tackle Lando, shoving him to the floor.

“Don’t fight it,” one orders as Lando struggles. He pins Lando’s arms behind his back.

“Get off me!” Lando shouts, face smushed into the carpet. “What is this?”

You know exactly what this is. Your security detail, come to collect you after last night’s escape. Panic rises in your throat.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” you beg the agents holding you.

Their grips remain firm but nonviolent. One talks rapidly into his earpiece, confirming the situation is handled. The apparent leader of the group stands over Lando, who glares up at him defiantly.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” the man states gruffly. “But you’re coming with us.”

Two agents haul Lando to his feet. He stands there in only his boxers, completely perplexed. You bite your lip, shot through with guilt. This is all because of you.

The agent in charge approaches you next, his gaze softening slightly. “Time to go home, ma’am. Your father is waiting.”

Lando’s head whips toward you so fast it must give him whiplash. “Ma’am? Your father?” His face goes ashen with dawning comprehension that there’s more to you than meets the eye. You wince, knowing there’s no way out of this now.

The agents begin herding you and Lando at a brisk pace through the ravaged hotel room door. Lando cranes his neck, trying to look at you.

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” He hisses, stumbling along in the grip of two agents. “Who are you?”

You open your mouth, an apology on your lips. Before you can speak, the lead agent interjects sharply.

“She’s the First Daughter of the United States, son. And you’re in deep shit.”

Lando pales. “The President’s-”

“That’s right,” the man confirms. “And he’s mighty unhappy you took certain liberties with his little girl.”

Lando gulps audibly. Your heart twists with regret, seeing him so distraught. But the agents allow no further discussion, marching you both through the hotel’s back corridors. In minutes, you’re bundled into a black SUV with tinted windows. Tires screech as your motorcade peels away, sirens blaring.

You reach for Lando’s hand, relief flooding you when he doesn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper earnestly. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He searches your face, brow furrowed. But his fingers tighten around yours. “It’s okay. Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You nod, knowing you owe him an explanation. But before you can speak, the SUV rolls to a stop on an empty airport tarmac. A sleek private plane awaits, engines rumbling. The agents hurry you both up the stairs into the lavish cabin.

Once settled inside, the lead agent fixes Lando with a solemn look. “We’re taking you straight to DC. The President wants to have a word with you both.”

Lando gulps again. You squeeze his hand, offering a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry. My dad’s just a little … overprotective sometimes.”

You nestle close to Lando as the jet taxis down the runway, hoping to provide some comfort. But he sits rigidly, face pale.

“Hey,” you say softly, “It’s going to be okay.”

Lando turns to you with wide, frightened eyes. “Okay? Your dad is the President! And I … I ...” He gestures helplessly at you, at a loss for words.

“Deflowered his only daughter?” You supply with a teasing grin.

Lando gulps loudly. “Oh god. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? I’m a dead man. They’ll waterboard me or worse.”

You have to laugh at his flustered expression. “Relax, it won’t be that bad.”

“Easy for you to say,” Lando grumbles. “You’re not the one who’s gonna get shipped off to some CIA black site never to be heard from again.”

“Oh come on, he won’t go that far.”

Lando turns to you with wide, frightened eyes. “Are you sure? I’ve heard stories about shady government stuff. Secret torture chambers under the White House. Experimental poisons. Attack eagles trained to go for the jugular.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment before stating in a deadpan voice, “The eagles prefer to go for the liver actually. More tender that way.”

Lando lets out a whimper, his face draining of color. “Oh god, you’re serious?” He squeaks. “I knew it, I’m never getting out of this alive!”

You can’t keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. “Lando, relax! I’m just messing with you. There are no attack eagles or secret torture chambers.”

You take his hand and kiss his cheek reassuringly. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. My dad will probably just want to have a talk with you. That’s all.”

Lando still looks uncertain, but manages a shaky nod. “If you say so. But I think I’ll say a prayer or two just in case. Please tell me your old man doesn’t have a shotgun.”

“No shotguns,” you confirm, patting Lando’s knee. “But the Secret Service on the other hand ...”

Lando’s eyes widen in renewed fear. He clasps his hands together dramatically and looks upward. “Dear spirit of Ayrton Senna, please protect me from the wrath of the President and his highly trained special agents. I know not what awaits me in Washington, but I beg you to guard me from grievous bodily harm ...”

***

The plane touches down at Andrews Air Force Base, and you and Lando are swiftly escorted from the plane into an armored SUV. Lando fidgets nervously in his seat during the short drive through the capital, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“It’s going to be okay,” you murmur, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. He attempts a weak smile in return.

All too soon, the SUV pulls up to the White House. You and Lando are ushered quickly inside by Secret Service agents, bypassing security checks. As you walk briskly through the historic halls, Lando gapes at the lavish architecture and priceless artwork adorning the walls.

“This is unreal,” he whispers. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze.

At last you arrive outside the Oval Office. The agents pause, stone-faced, before opening the tall wooden doors. Your stomach flip-flops with nerves as you enter behind them.

There, seated at the Resolute Desk, is your father — the President of the United States. He rises as you approach, his face impassive. You offer a timid smile.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Your father’s stern expression instantly melts. He circles the desk and pulls you into a warm embrace.

“There’s my little girl,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. “You had me so worried.”

Guilt gnaws at you. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t you worry about that now. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pauses, then adds, “Though if you really wanted an F1 driver, why couldn’t it have been that nice American boy Logan Sargeant? Now there’s an upstanding young patriot.”

Your father holds you by the shoulders, surveying you with concern. Seeing that you’re unharmed, his gaze shifts to Lando hovering awkwardly behind you. Your father’s eyes harden, his jaw setting. Lando audibly gulps.

Stepping between them, you take a deep breath. “Daddy, this is Lando. The man I was with last night.”

You lace your fingers through Lando’s in a show of solidarity. Your father’s piercing stare makes him fidget.

“Lando Norris,” your father states coldly. “Formula 1 driver. British national. Born and raised in Bristol, England. Competes for McLaren Racing. Net worth of $30 million USD. Had unauthorized relations with my daughter approximately ...” He glances at his watch, “ ... twelve hours ago.”

Lando pales under your father’s recitation of his biography and recent activities. You shoot your dad a pleading look.

“Go easy on him, okay?”

Your father’s face softens slightly at your words. He beckons for Lando to step forward.

“Son, you have exactly one minute to explain yourself before I set the full force of the United States government on you for defiling my princess. And believe me when I say there are dark places in this world where no one will ever find you again.”

Lando looks ready to pass out. He glances at you in panic, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze, signaling for him to speak.

“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. President,” Lando stammers. “Obviously I didn’t know who Y/N was when we met last night. But I care about her a lot, truly, and I would never intentionally do anything to hurt her. I have nothing but respect for her and for you, sir.”

He straightens his shoulders, gaining confidence. “I understand I made a mistake, and I take full responsibility. But I promise, my intentions are honorable. If you’ll permit it, I’d like to properly court Y/N with your blessing.”

Your father studies Lando for a long moment, face unreadable. The tension in the room is stifling. Finally, he cracks a wry smile.

“Very well. You’ve got spunk, kid, I’ll give you that. And clearly my daughter sees something in you worth all this trouble. But understand this—” Your father leans in, eyes flashing. “You’ve got one shot to prove yourself worthy of her. Mess it up, and you’ll be scrubbing toilets in Guantanamo Bay for the rest of your short, miserable life. Are we clear?”

Lando audibly gulps again. “C-crystal clear, sir.”

“Good.” Your father claps Lando on the shoulder firmly enough to make him wince. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“I’m not happy you were out all night without security, young lady. You’ll be grounded for two weeks. No cell phone, no social media, and no racing events.” You open your mouth to protest, but your father silences you with a raised hand. “However, in light of the circumstances, we’ll reduce it to one week. Consider yourself lucky.”

You sigh but don’t argue. Your father pulls you in for one more hug. “I’m glad you’re alright, sweetpea. Now run along back to the residence while I have a few more words with your new suitor here.”

You give Lando an encouraging smile as you exit the Oval Office. The last thing you see before the door shuts is your father clapping a hand on Lando’s shoulder again, steering him toward the Roosevelt Desk. “Have a seat, son. We’ve got lots to discuss ...”

Lando perches anxiously on the edge of the chair across from your father at the Roosevelt Desk.

“First things first,” your dad begins. “I expect you to treat my daughter with the utmost respect. No staying out all night and no unsavory activities. You will be a gentleman at all times. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Lando says quickly.

“Second, you are not to distract her from her studies. Y/N is on track to graduate top of her class at Georgetown and I won’t have anyone jeopardizing that.”

Lando nods. “Of course not, her education comes first.”

“Good,” your father says gruffly. “Third rule: you will check in with me weekly to provide updates on where you are taking her and what you are doing. And know that my security team will be monitoring your activities closely as well.”

Gulping, Lando agrees to the terms. Your father continues laying down the law for several more minutes, covering everything from curfews to social media posts to PDA.

“And if at any point I decide you are no longer an appropriate suitor for my daughter, you will end the relationship immediately and without argument. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, Mr. President,” Lando says quickly. “You have my word I intend to do right by Y/N.”

Your father studies him a moment longer before cracking a wry smile. “Well, you’ve got guts at least, son. Most boys your age would’ve wet themselves by now. I suppose I can give you a chance. But remember, one toe out of line and ...”

He makes a slicing motion across his throat. Lando audibly gulps.

“Yes sir! I understand completely.”

“Good man,” your father says, standing to clap Lando on the back. “Now let’s get you out of here before you really do pass out ...”

***

After the whirlwind events of the day, Lando is given a plush guest suite in the White House residence to spend the night. He collapses onto the king-sized four poster bed, emotionally exhausted.

Just this morning he woke up with the President’s daughter in his arms. Now he’s been threatened within an inch of his life by the leader of the free world. What a wild rollercoaster of a day.

A soft knock at the door makes Lando jump. Before he can respond, you slip inside, closing the door quietly behind you.

“Y/N!” Lando exclaims in a loud whisper. “What are you doing here?”

You smile mischievously, walking over to sit beside him on the bed. “What does it look like? I missed you.”

Lando’s eyes dart around the room, half expecting your father to burst out of the closet. “Are you crazy? If we get caught together your dad will annihilate me!”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Oh relax, no one patrols the residential wing’s hallways at night. We’re completely alone.” Leaning in, you brush your lips teasingly along his jaw. “Now where were we this morning before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Lando can’t restrain a small groan of desire, but retains the presence of mind to gently halt your roaming hands. “Y/N, we can’t. You heard your father’s rules.”

You make a face. “Come on, live a little! He won’t know as long as we’re discreet.”

Biting his lip, Lando wavers. Having you here, so warm and willing in his arms, is incredibly tempting. And technically the President had only forbidden unauthorized nighttime activities outside of the White House ...

Sensing his hesitation, you straddle his lap and cup his face in your hands. “I want this, Lando,” you murmur sincerely before kissing him deeply.

That does it. Lando kisses you back hungrily, pulling you flush against him. You let out a delighted hum, fingers spearing into his curls. Within moments you’re both stripped down to your underwear, hands greedily exploring.

But as things heat up, Lando abruptly breaks the kiss, eyes wide. “Did you hear that?” He whispers.

You still, listening closely. “Hear what?”

“I thought I heard something in the hall.”

You grin teasingly. “You’re being paranoid.” But you indulge him and climb off so he can check, wrapping yourself in a sheet.

Lando cracks the door open slowly, peering out. Seeing nothing, he lets out a breath and returns to the bed.

“Okay, false alarm. Now, where were-”

His words cut off with a yelp as you pounce, pinning him beneath you. Laughing, you silence any further protest with your lips. Soon Lando is kissing you fiercely once more, hands roaming your body.

Just as he’s unclasping your bra, Lando breaks the kiss again. “Wait, did you lock the door?”

You huff in feigned annoyance. “Of course I did!”

But Lando is already slithering out from under you to double check. You flop back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Lando, would you relax? No one is coming.” You give him your best pleading look. “Now come back to bed and finish what you started, handsome.”

That seems to do the trick. With one final glance at the locked door, Lando grins and rejoins you. His warm hands and mouth resume their sensual exploration.

You’re both completely lost in each other when suddenly the door handle rattles.

“Someone’s coming!” Lando whispers in alarm.

He hurriedly gathers up the sheets around you just as the door swings open to reveal a Secret Service agent.

“Oh, uh, hello?” Lando says, trying to sound casual despite being shirtless and flushed.

You hold perfectly still under the sheet, heart hammering.

The agent surveys the room suspiciously. “Thought I heard voices. Everything alright in here, Mr. Norris?”

“Yep, all good!” Lando says with forced cheer. “Just chatting on the phone. With my … mum. In England. Time zones, you know.”

The agent clearly doesn’t seem convinced, his gaze raking over the disheveled bed. But after a long pause he simply says “Very well. Have a good night, sir.”

Lando sighs in relief as the door shuts. After a moment, you peek your head out from under the sheet.

“That was close!”

Lando flops back onto the bed, laughing. “No kidding! I thought we were busted for sure.”

Tilting his chin up, you give Lando a slow, sensual kiss. “Now then, I believe you still have some unfinished business to attend to, Mr. Norris ...”

Lando searches your face then grins sheepishly, pulling you into his arms. “You’re absolutely incorrigible. Come here.”

***

For your first official date night, Lando takes you out for dinner in The Inn at Little Washington. You emerge from your room in a stunning silky dress, hair and makeup impeccable.

Lando’s eyes widen and he lets out an appreciative whistle. “Wow. You look incredible.”

He pulls you in for a quick kiss, careful not to smudge your lipstick. Just then, your Secret Service detail emerges, dressed in their standard crisp black suits and sunglasses.

The lead agent addresses Lando gruffly. “Alright, here’s the deal. We’ll be accompanying you tonight, but our goal is to stay invisible. Don’t acknowledge us, don’t make eye contact, just pretend we’re not there.”

Lando nods, looking uncertain. With their massive builds and conspicuous attire, ignoring the agents doesn’t seem likely. But he decides to just go with it.

At the restaurant, the hostess seats you and Lando at a cozy table for two. As promised, your detail blends into the background, taking up positions around the dining room. Lando tries his best not to glance nervously at the two imposing figures lurking near the entrance.

After you order, Lando reaches across the table to take your hand. “You really do look stunning tonight,” he says softly. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You blush prettily. “Smooth talker. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Lando grins. Just then, the sommelier arrives to present the wine list. As he’s rattling off descriptions of merlots and cabernets, you notice Lando’s gaze drift over the sommelier’s shoulder to where two of your agents are posted nearby. You squeeze Lando’s hand to get his attention back.

“Uh, sorry, what was that last one?” Lando asks, snapping his focus back to the confused sommelier.

Once you’ve ordered wine and appetizers, the conversation flows smoothly. Lando has almost forgotten about your not-so-invisible security until the entrees arrive. The waiter sets down your plates with a flourish.

As he pivots to leave, he collides directly with the broad chest of one of your agents, nearly upending the tray of food.

“Oh! Pardon me, sir,” the waiter stammers. The agent, true to his training, ignores the flustered waiter and remains statue-still.

Lando has to fake a coughing fit to disguise his laugh. You cover your mouth delicately, eyes sparkling with amusement. So much for blending seamlessly into the environment.

As dinner progresses, Lando finds his gaze drawn again and again to your hulking shadows scattered around the restaurant. He watches one agent accidentally block a busboy trying to clear a nearby table. Another nearly takes out a hovering food runner as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. It’s like seeing massive, well-dressed bulls in a china shop.

When the check comes, Lando signs quickly then leans toward you conspiratorially. “Have I mentioned how incredibly normal this dinner has been? Just two totally regular people on a date without armed guards watching our every move.”

You have to smother your giggles behind your hand. “Oh yes, completely low-key. I forgot the agents were even here!”

As you exit the restaurant hand-in-hand, Lando murmurs under his breath, “Nothing to see here, just a guy and his girlfriend trailed by four gigantic men in black ...”

You dissolve into laughter, drawing confused looks from passersby. Lando grins and pulls you close. Invisible security or not, it was a perfect first official date. And as your convoy of not-so-covert agents escorts you safely home, he’s already planning many more to come.

***

A few months later, you join Lando at Circuit of the Americas in Austin for the United States Grand Prix. As you walk hand-in-hand through the paddock, Lando smiles and waves at the fans calling his name from behind the fences.

Up ahead, a large group of people round the corner. Their eyes light up when they see you both.

“Here we go,” Lando murmurs, dropping your hand to sign autographs and pose for selfies.

But as the group draws near, you realize they aren’t fans — it’s the Governor of Texas and his entourage.

“Y/N!” the Governor booms jovially, arms open wide. Behind him are several legislators, donors, and a gaggle of reporters. “What a wonderful surprise!”

He engulfs you in a bear hug before holding you at arm’s length. “Don’t you look lovely! How’s your father doing? I just spoke to him last week about the education bill.”

Lando stands by awkwardly as you’re enveloped into the group. You glance at him apologetically while greeting each person.

“Daddy’s doing well, thanks for asking! Keeping busy as always.”

“I’ll bet!” the Governor chuckles. He turns to holler at one of his aides. “Hey Jim, tell the White House we said hello to his beautiful daughter, would ya?”

The reporters surge forward eagerly, microphones extended. “Y/N, what brings you to Austin this weekend?”

You gesture to Lando. “I’m here supporting my boyfriend, Lando. He’s racing for McLaren.”

All eyes turn to Lando curiously. Flashing cameras make him squint. The Governor grabs his hand in an enthusiastic shake.

“Lando, eh? Good to meet you!” Without waiting for a response, he turns back to you. “Y/N, your father briefed me on the proposals to increase Pell Grant funding. Seems like an excellent plan ...”

As the Governor launches into policy discussion, Lando shifts awkwardly on his feet. You keep one eye on him while politely engaging with each person. More politicians approach to lobby you about your dad’s agenda.

“Your father’s infrastructure bill was brilliant!” One praises. “Make sure to tell him he’s got my full support.”

You smile. “I’ll let him know. I know he appreciates your vote.”

One donor pipes up excitedly. “I’ll be holding a high-dollar fundraiser next month in Dallas. Your attendance would mean so much ...”

You tactfully deflect, making no commitments. The reporters pepper you with questions about your studies at Georgetown and future political aspirations. You give diplomatic answers about focusing on the present while the Governor boasts of your potential.

“Y/N here is gonna be President herself one day!” He winks conspiratorially. “I’m calling it now, folks.”

Mercifully, an aide reminds the Governor he’s late for a meeting. As the group prepares to move on, he pumps your hand enthusiastically.

“It was fantastic to see you, Y/N. Tell your old man I said hello! Keep up the good work in school.” He spares a departing nod at Lando. “Nice meeting you, son.”

And with that, the entourage sweeps away. You let out a breath, turning to Lando. “I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t expect the Governor to be here.”

But Lando just stares after the departing politicians, looking slightly stunned. “I mean … I knew your dad was the President. But I guess it didn’t totally sink in until just now ...”

He runs a hand through his curls. “It’s like you’re royalty or something. Paparazzi, donors, governors … you’re a big deal, Y/N.”

You bite your lip. “Not by choice. I know the attention is weird, but I promise I’m still just me.” You take his hand, gazing at him earnestly. “None of those people determine our relationship. Only we do.”

Lando searches your face, then smiles. “You’re right. It’s just … surreal sometimes. But it doesn’t change how I feel or that I want to make this work.”

He squeezes your hand. You grin, feeling a rush of affection. Standing on tiptoe, you give him a lingering kiss. Around you, cameras flash as photographers snap the moment.

Lando chuckles as you break apart. “I’d better get used to that too, huh?”

“Comes with the territory,” you laugh. Taking his arm, you continue through the paddock. “Now come on. Let’s go watch qualifying before more politicians ambush us!”

***

The cheers of the crowd are deafening as Lando crosses the finish line in first place, finally claiming his first ever Formula 1 victory. You’re jumping up and down in the McLaren garage, absolutely elated for your boyfriend.

In the frenzy of celebrations after the race, you and Lando manage to slip away from the crowds and teams back to his hotel suite to continue the festivities in private. As soon as the door shuts behind you, Lando whoops and sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around.

“I did it, baby! I finally did it!”

You grin, happiness bubbling up inside you. “I’m so proud of you! I knew this day would come.”

Setting you down, Lando crashes his lips to yours in a fierce, passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling like you might burst from joy.

Eventually you break apart, both flushed and beaming. Lando brushes his thumb over your cheek tenderly.

“I couldn’t have done this without your support, Y/N. You being here to share this means everything to me.”

You place your hand over his heart. “Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away. I’ll always be your biggest fan.”

Lando’s eyes darken and he pulls you in for another searing kiss. Your heartbeat quickens as his hands trail down your back, fumbling for the zipper on your dress. Blindly you shuffle toward the bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind you.

Things are just starting to really heat up when suddenly the hotel room door bursts open. Your Secret Service detail comes pouring in, guns drawn.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” An agent bellows. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Lando yelps, grabbing frantically for a sheet to cover you both. “She’s fine! We’re just … celebrating!”

The agents quickly assess the situation. Their leader clears his throat, lowering his weapon.

“Apologies for the intrusion. Your smart watch alerted us to an elevated heart rate indicating potential distress. We believed you were in danger.”

You close your eyes, mortified heat flooding your cheeks. “Oh my god. It’s fine, everything’s fine! You all can go now.”

The agents shuffle out, mumbling apologies. Lando collapses back on the bed, absolutely hysterical with laughter. You smack his shoulder, which only makes him laugh harder.

“It’s not funny!” You exclaim, covering your flaming face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lando gasps through his giggles. “It’s just — their faces! And then when they saw us ...” He dissolves into another fit.

Despite your embarrassment, his laughter proves contagious. Soon you’re both wiping away tears, sides aching.

Finally calming down, Lando strokes your hair back from your face affectionately. “Well, that’s one way to kill the mood.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “No kidding. We desperately need to tweak the sensitivity on this watch.”

“Maybe we could take it off temporarily?” Lando suggests with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.

You shake your head. “I wish, but this watch has saved my life before. I can’t take it off.”

Lando’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? What happened?”

You absently toy with the watch on your wrist. “About two years ago I was out shopping and some guys tried to grab me. If I hadn’t been wearing this watch with its location tracker, my detail might not have found me in time.”

You shudder at the memory. Lando takes your hand, face filled with concern.

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

You offer a reassuring smile. “It worked out okay. So as annoying as it can be, it’s staying on 24/7 for my safety.”

Lando nods seriously. “Of course. I would never want to jeopardize your security just for some fun.” He kisses your temple. “I guess we’ll just have to get creative when it comes to celebrating in private from now on.”

You grin mischievously. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

***

“So Lando, I gotta ask — how are things going with Y/N?” Max Fewtrell asks with a smirk through the webcam.

You feel your cheeks flush from where you’re sitting on the couch off-camera as Lando grins sheepishly. “Things are going great, thanks for asking.”

The chat explodes with messages.

Is she there?

We want to meet her!

Max chuckles at the chat’s reaction. “Sounds like the fans want you to bring Y/N on stream, what do you think?”

Lando looks over at you. “I mean, if you’re up for it they’d love to meet you.”

You hesitate, suddenly feeling shy at the thought of going on Lando’s stream. But the encouraging look on his face gives you courage. “I guess I can say a quick hello,” you say, walking over.

As you enter the frame, Max suddenly starts blasting “Hail to the Chief,” causing you to jump.

“Oh my god Max, really?” You groan, though you can’t help but laugh.

“I had to!” Max cackles. “The First Daughter deserves a proper entrance.”

Lando playfully rolls his eyes and pulls you into his lap. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the memes.”

You smile, leaning into Lando as you glance at the rapidly moving chat. Most of the messages are incredibly positive — welcoming you and talking about what a cute couple you and Lando are.

“Hi everyone!” You say with a small wave. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you all.”

“She’s just a normal girl who happens to have the most powerful man in the world wrapped around her finger,” Lando jokes, kissing your temple.

You grin up at him then turn back to the webcam. “I guess our relationship can look pretty weird from the outside. But Lando makes me really happy, and I hope we have your support.”

The chat floods with heart emotes and messages gushing about young love.

Max smiles. “You two are adorable. But inquiring minds want to know — how did you meet?”

You and Lando share a knowing look. “Well...” he draws out. “We actually met in Miami during the Grand Prix last year.”

“Oooh an international romance!” Max teases.

You poke Lando playfully in the side. “What he’s leaving out is that we met at a club. I was there on a rare night out and he came over to ask me to dance.”

“Is that so?” Max grins.

“Hey now, no need for the details,” Lando says, tickling your sides as you squirm and laugh.

The chat is begging for the full story, so you decide to give it to them. “Okay, okay! So we danced all night and really hit it off. Then the next morning ...”

You trail off, trying not to giggle as Lando shakes his head. “Do we really need to tell them about the next morning?”

Yes! The chat unanimously agrees.

You pat Lando’s cheek. “It��s okay honey, I’ll protect you from the memes this time.”

Clearing your throat, you continue. “So the next morning, after a night of … fun, my secret service detail may have burst into Lando’s hotel room to bring me back home.”

Max bursts out laughing. “No way! Lando, you absolute madman.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lando exclaims, though he’s laughing too. “How was I supposed to know who she was?”

Max snorts. “I mean, who doesn’t recognize America’s Sweetheart?”

Lando smirks. “I’m British! And I was a bit distracted by her other, uh, assets.”

“Lando!” You swat his chest playfully as he cracks up, the chat going crazy over his flirtatious teasing.

“Anyway,” you go on. “I had to explain to my security team that I was fine and we were just hanging out. But of course they still dragged both of us back to the White House so Lando could meet my father.”

Max is wheezing. “No way, they took you to meet the President after an one night stand?”

Lando covers his reddening face. “It was mortifying. I was stumbling around half asleep still in last night’s clothes, reeking of vodka and bad decisions.”

You kiss his cheek, patting his leg consolingly. “Aww babe, you did great. My dad said he admired your composure given the circumstances.”

Lando peeks out from behind his hands. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. “He could tell how much you cared about me and that you weren’t just fooling around. And obviously he was right, since here we are a year later and happier than ever.”

Lando smiles softly, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. “Yeah, here we are.”

The chat has switched to mostly heart eye and aww emojis, gushing about you two being relationship goals.

You turn back to the camera a bit bashfully. “So yeah, that’s the story of how we met. Not exactly a fairytale beginning but ...”

You trail off as Lando reaches out to tilt your chin towards him, looking into your eyes earnestly. “It was the start of my fairytale,” he says softly.

Your heart flutters at his words. You lean in and kiss him tenderly. For a moment, it feels like you and Lando are the only two people in the world.

When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his. “You’re my fairytale too,” you whisper.

Lando’s eyes are full of love and wonder, as if he can’t believe how lucky he is to have found you.

“Awww!” Max interrupts your intimate moment. “You two are just too cute. The chat is loving this!”

You glance over to see the chat flooded with positive messages about your relationship. Smiling shyly, you take Lando’s hand and lace your fingers together.

“I’d say this turned out to be a pretty good stream, wouldn’t you?” Lando asks, grinning.

You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. “Definitely one of your best.”

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zylev-blog · 5 months

Text

Danny was pissed. He was chilling in the Speedforce, waiting on his dad—the Flash—to show up when he felt something shift around him. He exited the speedforce to find that the timeline had changed again, and he had been written out of the timeline. He technically was a time anomaly now, and didn’t exist. So he talked to Clockwork, a ghost he’d gotten to know extremely well after Danny’s creation.

Danny was a clone of the Flash and Green Lantern(Hal Jordan) as part of an experiment that Lex Luthor had taken prior to cloning Superboy. Lex had wanted to know if the power ring was able to transmit anything genetically (it couldn’t. It was a wearable weapon, not a genetic thing.) but Danny had inherited Flash’s superspeed, so he wasn’t a complete loss. Danny wasn’t sure if he looked more like either man, considering they both wore masks. He had brown hair and green eyes. Beyond that, he tanned well, was tall for his age, and packed on muscle far easier than the Flash did. He hadn’t ever seen either man out of the costume.

After a talk with Clockwork, he decided he was just going to force his way back into his Dad’s life. Both of them, if possible. He arrived years before his creation by mistake, right near the start of the Justice League. By his estimates, the team had only been formed for a year before he’d arrived. It was strange; he both didn’t exist and was from the future. He guessed that it was around nine years before his birth, and since he was technically six months old, he was 9 years in the past. Thinking about this was going to give him a headache.

The Justice League was severely mistrustful of each other. They didn’t go out of their way for teamups, didn’t have weekly meetings, and almost pretended if the other members didn’t exist. The most recluse of them was Batman, of course. If any hero set foot in Gotham, they were booted out before they even got to downtown. Danny highly suspected Batman had the entire city on camera. The situation was weirding him out more than before. What had happened to the team?! He was used to everyone being one big family, and even the sidekicks having their own teams… speaking of sidekicks, why was Robin so small?! Wait a minute, that wasn’t the third Robin that he was used to, that was the first Robin! Baby Nightwing!

Thankfully for him, he still had his costume on this entire time as he zipped around the country, spying on the younger members of the Justice League. It was surreal watching everyone try to capture him, but he wasn’t going to be caught that easily!

Eventually his presence forced the Justice League into another teamup. Batman laid the trap out, and Flash lured him into it. The plan was so beautiful that he didn’t even realize it was a trap until he was caught in it. Green Lantern took off Danny’s mask, and for the first time, he looked at his fathers without a mask. They didn’t make the connection to him right away. It wasn’t until Wonder Woman’s lasso made its way around his wrist that the truth finally came out.

“Who are you?” Wonder Woman asked.

“Oof , hard question—ow ow oww—I’m being honest!” He struggled against the lasso as it started to burn him. “My designation was Dn-y, I go by Danny, though. I’m a clone.”

“Of who?” Batman demanded.

“Flash and Green Lantern.” The lasso was glowing brightly, indicating that he was telling the truth.

“How did you escape?” Flash asked.

He didn’t answer right away. He was trying to think about how to phrase the whole time traveling—timeline erasure thing when the lasso started to burn him again. “Ow ow! Sorry, I’m thinking! Ow! Turn down the settings on that thing, holy shit—okay, okay.” He winced, his words coming out in one breath as he quickly talked, “What do you know about time travel?”

Diana’s eyebrows were rising. “How are you able to resist the lasso for so long?”

“I’m not really resisting it.” He answered, noting the obvious deflect of his last question, “I just-oww—okay! My mind moves too fast for me to put into words sometimes and it makes me stop to think about it, but like, I’m not good at controlling the speed in which I speak all the time—owww make this thing stop burning me! I’m speaking honestly!”

Diana revoked the lasso, and he rubbed his wrist where his costume was starting to singe. He was still trapped in an anti-speedster prison, so it wasn’t exactly like he was going anywhere anyway.

“Why were you asking about time travel?” Batman asked.

“Based on the crickets chirping I heard earlier, that leads me to believe you guys haven’t had any experience in it yet.” He leaned against the wall of the prison, wincing as it shocked him with electricity. “Seriously? How paranoid are you, Batman?” He rubbed his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting with you people, but I feel so attacked right now.”

“So we have experience with it in the future?” Superman piped up.

“Yeah?” His tone of voice equated to a ‘duh’ tone. “Why would I ask what you knew if I wasn’t from the future?”

“How far in the future are you from?” Green Lantern asked.

“Nine years, maybe close to ten? Timelines are weird. I’m technically six months old, but at the same time I’m sixteen. Cloning is odd, but I was like, the first clone ever, so I don’t really have a basis for this sort of thing, if you catch my drift.” He shrugged. He seemed like he talked a lot more than the heroes did, but he didn’t know if that was because he was a chatterbox, or because they weren’t comfortable in each other’s presence. Either way, the silence was odd to him.

“How did you end up here?” Batman asked.

“Honestly? I don’t fully know. Don’t give me that look, Diana! I’m telling the truth.” He added quickly as Diana fingered her lasso again. “All I know is one minute, I’m chilling in the Speedforce, and the next, the timeline is changed and I’m nine years too early for my birth. You’d think the timeline would at least have the decency to spit me out in my own year, but nooo, it wanted to—“

“What’s the Speedforce?” Superman interrupted.

He tilted his head at Superman’s question, then turned to the Flash. “How long have you had your powers?”

Flash shifted uncomfortably. “Two years.”

“Oh boy.” Danny’s green eyes widened. “You don’t know anything about them, do you?”

“I do know things!” Flash deflected, “My suit doesn’t catch on fire anymore! I can run up to Mach 2! I can get from either end of the country in thirty minutes!”

He groaned loudly. “Oh no. Oh no.” He chewed on his thumb, trying to recall everything he’d learned about his powers from his Flash. While he hadn’t learned his or Green Lantern’s identity yet, he knew almost everything about their hero personas and a lot of personal information. They were just worried of the Cadmus connection and didn’t want their identity to fall into the wrong hands if they still could see inside of Danny’s head.

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.

“Okay.” He ran his hands through his brown hair, making it spike up. “Hypothetically—“ he cut himself off as Batman glared at him. “Okay, totally real, but uh, Flash, let’s just say that I’m faster than you right now. A lot faster.”

“How much?” Flash took a step forward, obviously curious.

“From what we can tell, I’ve topped out at Mach nine.” He responded with a dry laugh, “But your speed was still a lot faster than mine. You’d never tell me what it was. I’m still growing though, and I’m getting faster. I’m able to beat my precious time by almost double each time we test. But my situation was complicated, and things were happening, and it was a mess.”

“Like what?” Superman asked.

“World war three. I think?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that he had picked up from Green Lantern, “Things got complicated. That’s why I was going to wait for…” his eyebrows scrunched together as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “It was you!” He turned to Flash. “You!” He jabbed a finger at the speedster. “You set this up! You set ME up!”

The heroes took fighting stances, but Superman took a step forward, blocking them from Danny. “What are you talking about?”

“Okay okay.” He was trying to calm down his anger, but he had been told by Green Lantern in the past that he had inherited the man’s anger issues. “Let me start at the beginning. This is going to be a long story, you might want to take a seat.”

Nobody moved, but everyone was tense.

“Or not. Okay. So my creation starts with Lex Luthor.” He noticed Superman stiffen. “He used me as his trial, if you will. Once he got a successful attempt at cloning—me—he moved onto his real target. Cloning Superman.” Danny’s green eyes hovered onto Superman’s blue ones. “He was successful.”

“What happened?” Superman’s voice was unnaturally quiet.

“Well, at first, Conner wasn’t showing that he had all the powers of Superman. So Lex tossed him aside and tried again. The second attempt was more successful than the first. But cloning Kryptonian dna was hard, I guess.” He shrugged. “The second clone lacked basic emotions. Empathy, remorse… it made him the perfect little weapon for Lex. But eventually, the clone’s anger and Lex’s greed got to a point of no return. Lex was elected President of the United States and uh…you can probably see where this is going, right? While the fighting hadn’t like…’officially’ started,” He used his fingers to create air quotes around the word ‘officially’, “Things were getting tense. See, we couldn’t take the clone down because Lex had wrote out the Kryptonite deficiency out of his weakness. And the clone had all the strength of Superman and none of his remorse…”

Superman looked pale. “I see.”

“So Flash and I came up with a plan.” He turned back to his father, “We were going to travel into the next dimension for help. From what we could tell, that dimension was full of god-like beings, and one of them actually helped me out earlier! But for a lot of them, they ask for a price for their help. But anyway, Flash and I were going to take our case to the King and plead for help. I was waiting for Flash when the timeline reset and I found out that not only did I not exist, but I was nine years too early.”

“What are you going to do now?” Green Lantern asked.

“Dunno,” His voice dropped as the reality hit him. He wasn’t going home—his home didn’t exist anymore.

#dp x dc au #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #dp dc crossover #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dp crossover #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dcxdp #Danny is a clone #green lantern #the flash #time travel #speed force

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reasonsforhope · 9 months

Note

hey, how do you cope with people saying we only have a small amount of time left to stop the worst effects of climate change? no matter how hopeful and ok i am, that always sends me back into a spiral :(

A few different ways

1. The biggest one is that I do math. Because renewable energy is growing exponentially

Up until basically 2021 to now, all of the climate change models were based on the idea that our ability to handle climate change will grow linearly. But that's wrong: it's growing exponentially, most of all in the green energy sector. And we're finally starting to see proof of this - and that it's going to keep going.

And many types of climate change mitigation serve as multipliers for other types. Like building a big combo in a video game.

Change has been rapidly accelerating and I genuinely believe that it's going to happen much faster than anyone is currently predicting

2. A lot of the most exciting and groundbreaking things happening around climate change are happening in developing nations, so they're not on most people's radars.

But they will expand, as developing nations are widely undergoing a massive boom in infrastructure, development, and quality of life - and as they collaborate and communicate with each other in doing so

3. Every country, state, city, province, town, nonprofit, community, and movement is basically its own test case

We're going to figure out the best ways to handle things in a remarkably quick amount of time, because everyone is trying out solutions at once. Instead of doing 100 different studies on solutions in order, we get try out 100 (more like 10,000) different versions of different solutions simultaneously, and then figure out which ones worked best and why. The spread of solutions becomes infinitely faster, especially as more and more of the world gets access to the internet and other key infrastructure

4. There's a very real chance that many of the impacts of climate change will be reversible

Yeah, you read that right.

Will it take a while? Yes. But we're mostly talking a few decades to a few centuries, which is NOTHING in geological history terms.

We have more proof than ever of just how resilient nature is. Major rivers are being restored from dried up or dead to thriving ecosystems in under a decade. Life bounces back so fast when we let it.

I know there's a lot of skepticism about carbon capture and carbon removal. That's reasonable, some of those projects are definitely bs (mostly the ones run by gas companies, involving carbon credits, and/or trying to pump CO2 thousands of feet underground)

But there's very real potential for carbon removal through restoring ecosystems and regenerative agriculture

The research into carbon removal has also just exploded in the past three years, so there are almost certainly more and better technologies to come

There's also some promising developments in industrial carbon removal, especially this process of harvesting atmospheric CO2 and other air pollution to make baking soda and other industrially useful chemicals

As we take carbon out of the air in larger amounts, less heat will be trapped in the atmosphere

If less heat is trapped in the atmosphere, then the planet will start to cool down

If the planet starts to cool down, a lot of things will stabilize again. And they'll probably start to stabilize pretty quickly

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surftrips · 3 months

Text

SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset.

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance.

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together.

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen.

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet.

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat.

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag.

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her.

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post.

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously.

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy.

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.”

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything.

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence.

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse.

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.”

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—”

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly.

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself.

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close.

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it.

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground.

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down.

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you.

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now.

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly.

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.”

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up.

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume.

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses.

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness.

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it.

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around.

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

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hemmingsleclerc · 4 months

Note

i don’t know if u do request or not. but if you do could u wrote a dad!maxverstappen oneshot where mom!reader’s 4-6 ur old daughter doesn’t want to take a shower, so she interrupts max’s stream. i got this idea for that one stream a few days ago and i can’t get it out of my head. please and thank you🤍

Bath Time ┃MV1

Pairing: Dad!Maxverstappen x mom!reader

Warnings: none

It was a sunny afternoon and Max was enjoying a rare moment of downtime. He decided to start his Twitch stream, giving his fans an insight into his life off the court. While Max chatted with his audience while playing f1 '23, his girlfriend Y/N was facing a small but important domestic challenge.

Her 4-year-old daughter, Olivia, was in the middle of a heated confrontation with her mother. The battlefield? The bathroom. Olivia steadfastly refused to take a shower, asserting her independence with all the determination a toddler could muster.

In the Verstappen house, Y/N took charge of parenting duties and was not one to back down easily. As she tried to convince Liv to go to the bathroom, the girl's cries grew louder and echoed through the hallways of the large house.

Max, sitting in his gaming chair with headphones on, was mid-sentence, talking about his recent run when he heard the commotion. He frowned and removed an earpiece to capture the growing drama outside the room.

Y/N, with a mix of frustration and patience, shouted, "Via, it's time to shower, honey. Let's go now."

But Olivia wanted nothing to do with that. She broke free of Y/N's grip and her little feet scampered across the polished floor. Bursting into Max's gaming room, she threw herself onto his lap, tears streaming down her face.

"Daddy, I don't wanna take a shower! Tell Mommy I wanna stay with you!" Olivia's words tumbled out between sobs.

Max, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, looked at the camera with a bewildered expression. He chuckled as he realized his Twitch audience was witnessing a moment of fatherhood live.

"Uh, guys, it seems we have a little situation here," Max said, his eyes meeting the camera with a grin.

Following her, Y/N entered the room with an exasperated sigh. "Max, please. I need your help. Liv, it's just a quick shower, and then you can come back and hang out with dad, okay?"

Olivia, however, clung to Max and her screams turned to sobs. Max, always the good sport, put his arms around her, rubbing her back, trying to calm her little girl down, trying to stifle his laughter.

But since the door was still open, the cats ran into the room and climbed onto a small couch Max had somewhere in the room, starting to fight, causing more commotion to the whole thing.

Max was trying to calm his daughter when his words were interrupted by the loud sound of his country's national anthem, realizing that he was still live, and only managed to cover his face with both hands while his daughter continued crying, clinging to his neck and his girlfriend was trying to stop the cats from causing more damage.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh when she saw the scene that was unfolding. Everything had gotten out of control. Once she got the cats out of the room she couldn't help but smile as she saw the scene in front of her. Max, was now a comforting refuge for her daughter from the dreaded shower. The Twitch chat erupted with a mix of emojis and comments, turning the unexpected family moment into an endearing moment for Max's fans.

And so, with a little coaxing and a lot of laughing, Olivia finally agreed to take a shower, safe in the knowledge that more playtime with Dad awaited her afterwards. As Y/N led Via away, Max couldn't help but shake his head with a smile, realizing that even in the world of fast cars and competitive racing, family moments took center stage.

there you go love💗🤭 hope you like it

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eiightysixbaby · 5 months

Text

under the mistletoe

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader (college au)

2.6k

summary: a holiday party, a sweet gift exchange, and an even sweeter kiss

cw: mentions of alcohol, v brief mentions of weed smoking, fluff

“If Steve and Chrissy kiss one more time under that mistletoe, I’m gonna barf,” Eddie mumbles around his glass of eggnog.

“Oh, come on, I think it’s sweet,” Robin says, elbowing him in the side. “Stop being such a downer.”

You look in the direction of the couple under scrutiny, watching as Chrissy perches herself on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Steve’s waiting mouth. It is sweet, sickeningly so, if you’re honest. Maybe that’s where Eddie’s coming from…

“I’m not being a downer, I just don’t think we should all have to be subjected to them sucking face every five minutes,” Eddie sneers at her, huffing when she rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re just jealous you’re not getting any, Munson,” Robin sing-songs, walking away to refill her drink.

This was your first time experiencing one of Steve’s Christmas parties. Last year, you spent the holiday miserably sick in your and Robin’s shared apartment. You’d met the group during your first year of college, making fast friends and fitting right in with them. Robin and Eddie knew Steve from their shared hometown growing up, and they’d told you countless stories of all of the parties he used to throw in high school.

You’re just thankful that now, the parties are a little more scaled-back. A lot less drinking-till-you-puke and a lot more quality time with people you actually care about.

“So, you having fun at your first official Harrington holiday party?” Eddie asks you, looking casually over at you with his deep brown eyes.

“Yeah,” you smile. “It’s fun. I needed this after all the stress from finals. And it beats having the flu like last year,” you grimace, heart skipping a beat when Eddie laughs.

“Okay, you got me. Watching Steve and Chrissy make out might be bad, but it’s not as bad as the flu.”

You giggle, feeling your cheeks heat when he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t have a thing for Eddie. The moment you met him he’d captured your full attention, with his boisterous personality and his pretty eyes. His wild curly hair and his stellar smile. Everything about him had you giddy like a teenager, but you hadn’t voiced this to anyone — too scared that your feelings would disrupt, well, everything.

Plus, Eddie definitely didn’t like you like that. You’ve heard some of his hookup stories, he wouldn’t want to settle down and start a relationship with you. You’re just a friend to him, and that’s fine.

But with the way he’s looking at you right now, you could almost be convinced otherwise…

The little moment is gone before it really even started, Nancy coming over to the two of you and hurrying you into the living room to do the gift exchange. You’d decided to do a Secret Santa, drawing names and keeping your chosen person a secret until it was time for the unwrapping.

Much to your excitement, you’d pulled Eddie’s name. You’d debated over what to get him for as long as you could get away with before you finally came up with the perfect idea. Now that it’s almost time for him to open it, you find yourself getting nervous to see his reaction.

Everyone sits in a circle in the living room, taking up all of the furniture as well as the floor. You take one end of the sofa, and Eddie claims the chair closest to you. You watch as Nancy places all of the wrapped boxes and sparkly gift bags in the center of the group, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Eddie chose to sit by you.

“So, whose name did you get?” he leans over and whispers to you, those big doe eyes full of mischief.

“Well what fun would it be to spoil it now?” you counter, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly.

Your attention is brought back to the group as Steve offers to go first, picking up his gift and handing it over to Jonathan. Jonathan shyly accepts it, smiling as he tears the tissue paper out of the bag to reveal its contents. He pulls out a few cassette tapes of his favorite artists, as well as a new strap for his camera.

“Dude, these are awesome!” he says, and you watch as Steve smiles proudly. “Thank you so much,” the shaggy-headed boy continues, leaning over to accept Steve’s fist bump.

“No problem, man. I know you were complaining about your current camera strap getting all worn. The cassettes were an obvious choice,” Steve jokes.

The room is full of smiles and laughs as the gift-giving continues. Jonathan gives his gift to Chrissy, Chrissy had drawn your name and gives hers to you — a beautiful charm bracelet and a cozy blanket you’d seen at the mall not long ago and wanted terribly.

That means you’re up next. Your hands feel clammy and nervous butterflies flutter in your stomach as you grab your gifts from the floor. Angling yourself in Eddie’s direction, you hand him the presents with a timid smile.

“For me!?” he asks, holding a hand up to his heart. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You feel your face flush, unable to maintain eye contact as your jitters get the best of you. You just hope he likes it. You hope it’s not too much.

Eddie’s careful hands unwrap the first present of the two, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor. The small box is exposed, and you feel like you might pass out as he takes the lid off. His jaw drops open, his head snapping up to look at you and then look back down at the contents of the container once more.

“What is it!?” Nancy asks, craning her neck from her seat to try and catch a glimpse.

“Custom guitar picks. For Corroded Coffin,” Eddie says, in awe as he just stares at them.

The picks were a red and black marbled pattern, with CC printed onto them on one side, and an image of a bat flying on the opposite side. You know how important his band is to him, how often he stays up till the asscrack of dawn practicing guitar, and so it felt like the perfect thing to get.

You wait with baited-breath as he continues looking them over, picking them up and marveling at them as if they aren’t just pieces of plastic at the end of the day.

“These are…. I don’t even know what to say. These are so fucking sweet,” he says, meeting your eyes.

“Don’t forget to open the second one,” you say, trying to bite back a smile.

He just smiles, shaking his head as he goes to pick up the second present. Reaching carefully inside of the big, sparkly red bag, he pulls out a vinyl record. Not just any record, though. It’s a copy of Master of Puppets, signed by every member of Metallica. Eddie’s favorite band. You’d scoured the internet for a legitimate and somewhat-affordable copy, completely scoring on this one. A good chunk of the money you’d made from your campus job went towards it, but it was more than worth it.

“No fucking way!” he shouts when he clocks the signatures scrawled out in marker. He flips the record around to show the room, everyone erupting in a chorus of “holy shit!” and “oh my god”.

He’s out of his seat in an instant, encouraging you to stand with him. He squeezes you in an impossibly tight hug, his arms so secure around you.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” he says, right against your ear. He pulls back a little, looking you right in the eyes. “Thank you so fucking much. What the hell,” he laughs, his teeth fully on display and the dimples coming out in his cheeks.

“Damn. She’s the best gift giver of us all. I think we might as well just call off Secret Santa for next year, no one’s topping that,” Steve says, getting a nod from Robin.

Eddie still hasn’t fully let you go, and it’s only when you become excruciatingly aware of all of the eyes on you that you pull away from his touch.

“Okay. So, Eddie, you’re next?” you say shakily, trying to gain your composure back. The boy stares at you just a second too long for you not to overthink it, before he’s nodding along.

“Yeah, alright,” he says, reaching for his gift.

The remainder of the gifts are exchanged rather quickly, but you really couldn’t tell anyone what they were if you’d had a gun to your head. All you could think about was the way Eddie hugged you. The look in his eyes when he opened both gifts. His eyes watching you intently from that moment on.

You want to buy him gifts like that all of the time, want to make him smile like that all of the time.

Chrissy and Steve cozy up on the loveseat, wrapped in each other as Christmas music plays softly. Jonathan and Argyle sit by the window, smoking from the new bowl the latter had been gifted by Robin. (That was the only gift you’d actually paid attention to as it was given, because Argyle literally cried). Eddie was relaxing in his chair, sipping another glass of spiked nog.

Robin and Nancy had pulled you into the kitchen as soon as they could, talking in whispers.

“Okay, so what was that? You got Eddie, like, the best gift ever.” Robin says, her eyes bulging at the end of the sentence.

“Yeah, I mean, that record had to have cost a fortune. And the custom picks!?” Nancy prods.

“Can I not just get my friend a nice gift?” you counter, your hand rubbing the back of your neck.

“Something’s up. I always know when something’s up,” Nancy says, her small mouth pursing in thought.

She’s right. She always knows. You don’t stand a chance lying to them — especially not both of them, together.

“Okay, fine! So maybe I have a little thing for Eddie…” you say. “But he definitely doesn’t like me like that! I just… wanted to get him something nice. It made me feel good,” you add, quick to defend yourself.

“I knew it!” Robin says, a little too loud, Nancy and you hurrying to shush her. “I knew it,” she says again, whispering this time.

“Just pleeaaase don’t tell him, okay? I don’t need this getting out—”

“Okay, babe, have you ever considered that he might like you too?” Robin interrupts, and Nancy nods.

“I— I don’t know! He doesn’t seem like the type to want a relationship, and… I don’t know!” you stumble, realizing you aren’t sure if you have a valid reason to confidently claim that he doesn’t like you.

The truth is, you just don’t know. And the unknown is terrifying.

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Nancy asks. “You know Eddie’s a sweetheart. I’m sure he’d love to go on a date with you,” she says, and you chew on your lip in indecision.

“I don’t know, you guys…” you mumble, nervously playing with your hair.

“Just, think about it?” Robin asks, just as the curly-headed man in question strolls leisurely into the kitchen.

“What are we thinking about?” he noses his way into the conversation, grabbing a few cookies off of a tray.

“Uh, nothing important,” you lie, giving him the most convincingly casual smile you can muster.

He bites into his cookie, leaning casually against the table. His dark eyes don’t leave you. Bringing an icing-covered finger to his mouth, he sucks the sugary substance off, making you flustered for the millionth time tonight.

Think about it, Robin said. You’re definitely thinking about it.

“Hey, um, could I talk to you alone, for a sec?” he asks you, bringing you back to earth.

“Oh! Y-yeah, sure,” you say, following him out of the kitchen. You chance a quick glance back at the girls, both of whom give you a thumbs up and an encouraging nod.

Eddie rounds the corner from the kitchen, standing in the entryway to the apartment. You’re just out of earshot of anyone else, and you’re nervous for what he’s about to say. You lean against the wall, his taller frame almost caging you in.

“Listen. I just want you to know how much I appreciate the gifts you got me. You didn’t have to do that,” he says sincerely. “No one’s ever gotten me a gift that nice before, besides for when Wayne got me my guitar,” he says, laughing lightly. “I just… thank you. I can’t thank you enough, actually.”

“I wanted to do it. You don’t even need to thank me. I’m just glad you like them, and you don’t think it’s too much,” you admit, glancing down at your feet.

“They’re perfect,” he says earnestly, getting you to look back up at him. “You’re… perfect," he breathes, saying it like it's a sigh of relief. Like it’s long overdue.

His eyes are so soft and sincere, his lips plump and pink as his tongue pokes out to wet them. His cheeks are tinged with the slightest bit of red, either from nerves or from the alcohol. You find yourself lost in him, your lips parting slightly as you both stand in silence.

Something above his head catches your attention, after a moment, and you look further up. You laugh in spite of yourself, making him look up, too.

Right above both of you, hanging from the arch in the ceiling, is mistletoe. The same mistletoe Eddie had been complaining about earlier. He starts laughing too, and then the both of you are stood there giggling like schoolchildren at the situation you find yourselves in.

When he’s regained composure, and your belly-laughs have subsided to a shy smile, you meet his eyes again. He steps ever-so-slightly closer to you, regarding you carefully down the bridge of his nose. There’s a playful look on his face, and one of his hands reaches out to gently rest on your waist.

“Since we’re here… should we..?” he starts, inching even closer.

“Yeah, we should,” you murmur, pushing up on your toes to meet him as he starts leaning down.

Your eyes flutter shut, your noses brushing together before your lips barely graze his. His warm breath fans your face, and then his lips are pressed fully on yours. You’re drinking him in, letting your mouths move softly together as you press your body against his. He smells like cinnamon and spice, tastes like the liquor from his drink, and you can’t get enough.

He’s pulling away too soon, reaching his hands up to cup your face. You never want him to let go, never want to go back to the reality you were living in before you’d kissed him, and the look on his face tells you he might be feeling the same.

“Wow,” Steve says from his spot on the couch, reminding both you and Eddie that you aren’t the only ones here.

“Awww you guys are so cute!” Chrissy coos, making you bite your lip in slight embarrassment.

Nancy and Robin high-five nonchalantly, before looking at you with huge smiles. Eddie’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into his side. You feel like a million bucks with him so close to you.

“You guys mind if we get out of here?” he says to the room. “I think we have a lot to catch up on,” he adds, glancing down at you with a wink.

You’d never been so happy to leave a party in your life. And maybe you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot of Steve’s complex before Eddie’s hands were all over you, but that’s your business.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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lev1hei1chou · 2 months

Text

First Day

Dad!Gojo x Mom!reader Genre: Fluff Words: 600 Synopsis: Your child's first day at preschool Masterlist

It was a bright and sunny morning as you and Satoru Gojo got ready for your child's first day at preschool. The air was filled with nervousness and excitement, both for you and the little one. They were about to embark on a whole new adventure afterall.

As you helped your child put on their tiny shoes, Gojo couldn't help but wear a proud smile on his face. His hair was as unruly as ever, and his blue eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and mischief. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your child's head.

"Are you ready for your big day, little champ?" Gojo teased, ruffling their hair with affection.

Your child beamed up at their father, nodding eagerly. "Yes, Daddy! I'm gonna make lots of friends!"

Gojo chuckled, shooting you a glance filled with pride. "That's the spirit! You're going to be the coolest kid in preschool."

With bags packed, snacks ready, and tiny fingers tightly gripping onto both of your hands, you made your way to the preschool.

The building was decorated with vibrant colors, with laughter and the loud sounds of children playing echoing from within. As you entered the classroom, your child's eyes widened with awe.

The preschool teacher, a cheerful woman with a warm smile, welcomed you all. "Hello there! You must be the new student. We're so excited to have you join us today!"

The classroom was filled with colorful posters, small tables, and chairs perfectly sized for little ones. Toys were scattered around, and the walls were adorned with artwork created by previous classes. Your child's eyes lit up as they observed the room with enthusiasm.

As you helped your child settle into their seat, Gojo couldn't resist snapping a few pictures to commemorate the moment. He was beaming with pride and affection. He had to capture every smile and excited expression on your child's face. This was too important.

After a few reassuring words, you and Gojo finally said your goodbyes. Your child hugged you tightly, and Gojo bent down to their level, planting a soft kiss on their forehead. "Be the amazing kid I know you are, alright? Mom and Dad will be waiting for you right here when you're done."

With one last wave, you left the classroom, trying to hide the bittersweet emotions bubbling within you. You could feel the tears build up in your eyes. As you strolled through the empty hallways, Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulder, offering comfort.

"They'll be just fine, you know," he reassured, his confident demeanor never wavering.

You nodded, smiling through the mix of emotions. "I know, but it's hard to believe how fast they're growing up."

The day felt both endless and fleeting at the same time as you both eagerly awaited your child's return. When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the preschool day, you both rushed to the classroom.

As the door opened, your child emerged, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration on their face. The moment they spotted you, their eyes lit up, and they practically flew into your arms. Gojo grinned, scooping them up effortlessly.

"How was your first day?" you asked, hugging them tightly.

"It was amazing, Mommy! I made lots of friends, and the teacher read us a story," they exclaimed, their excitement contagious.

Gojo chuckled, swinging them playfully. "See, I told you it would be a blast!"

With your child chattering excitedly about their day, you walked out of the preschool hand in hand. Gojo couldn't have been prouder, and neither could you.

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triptuckers · 4 months

Text

switching teams - percy jackson

Request: yes! "Hi there! Could I request an enemies to lovers! trope, where the reader is part of the ares halfgods." Pairing: Percy Jackson x ares!reader Summary: percy should know better than to try and fight an ares kid Warnings: a lot of swearing lol, fighting, mentions of blood & injuries Word count: 1.9K A/N: can't wait to see more of dior as clarisse in the show she's such a good actress. thanks for your request, enjoy!

ever since percy got to camp a couple of years ago he's had it out for you. you don't know why, but naturally you decided to respond with the same energy.

he wants to test the ares kid's patience? fine by you.

for some reason he's always arguing with you and you're all to happy to argue back. somehow he knew exactly which buttons to press, how to get on your nerves.

there's always tension between the two of you, which reaches a high during war games like capture the flag. this time is no different.

you're part of team red, following clarisse's lead. percy is on the blue team.

not that it matters, your team is unbeatable. you're proud of your cabin for coming up with the best strategies. you and clarisse always draw up new battle plans, surprising the blue team whenever they think they cracked your plan.

and today you're going to win again. you know it.

you've been walking through your part of the forest, getting rid of any kids of the blue team you run into.

after a while, you think they've all said to each other to avoid certain parts of the wood, given that you don't see anyone for a while.

then you hear talking in the distance. smiling, you grip your sword tighter and creep closer to them.

'let's move, c'mon, these are y/n's parts of the woods.' says one of the kids. you recognise him as someone from the hermes cabin.

'right about that.' you say, jumping over a fallen log and blocking their path.

all three kids widen their eyes and you quickly count their weapons and cabins. two from the hermes cabin and one from athena. a combined total of three swords and a spear. you'll need to take out the athena kid first, they might be able to analyse your fighting style if you're not fast enough.

'I told you!' says one of the hermes kids as you charge them.

you were right, you can tell by the way the athena kid's eyes follow your movements they're trying to analyse your moves. but you catch them off guard and give them a hard shove after kicking one of their legs to the ground.

you make quick work of the hermes kids just in time for your team to run past, carrying the blue flag. you grin at sherman when he runs past with the flag.

'you know what to do!' he says with a wink.

you nod and take off. you're the best sprinter and best swordsman of your cabin.

the plan was simple. once your team got the flag, they would run through your favorite parts of the woods. you would hear them, join them and then run ahead of them, getting rid of any blue team kids in your way and clearing the path for your team.

so that's exactly what you do.

you run to the river, getting rid of any blue team kids you see.

when you see the river in the distance you can't help but to feel a sense of pride. you won again.

but before you can reach the river, something hard knocks you on your back.

before you can get up, someone appears above you, pointing his sword at you and smiling. it's percy. this fucking kid.

you lash out with your sword but percy is quick to block your blow.

'got ya!' he says.

'no you don't.' you say.

he may be pointing a sword at you, but you're not defenceless. with one swift motion, you kick percy's legs, sending him to the ground.

you're quicker, rolling over and pinning his hands to his side. there's no room for him to kick you with his legs.

percy's fighting to get his sword but this time you're stronger. this time, you smile.

'you need to be quicker.' you say. 'and you need to understand we will always win capture the flag.'

'we can still win.' percy argues.

'no, you can't.' you say. 'you're the strongest swordsman on your team. and I've got you pinned to the ground.

'so you admit I'm a stronger swordsman than you!' says percy.

'I said on your team.' you say.

you look up when you hear people cheering in the distance. your team has reached the river, with the blue flag.

'looks like we win again.' you say.

percy looks annoyed. 'get off me, the game is over.'

'say please.'

'fuck off.'

'say please and I'll get up.'

percy rolls his eyes and sighs. 'please, y/n, will you get off me?'

'because you asked nicely.' you say, pushing up off the ground, making sure to accidentally put your weight on percy's legs.

without looking at him again, you take off to celebrate the win with your team.

the next time you're playing capture the flag is three weeks later. you're excited to keep your winning streak going.

just as you've finished putting on your armour and checking all of your weapons, you see percy putting on a chest plate with a red mark on it.

'hey!' you say, getting his attention. 'you're not on our team.'

'yes I am.' he says. 'I already talked it over with clarisse.

'no the fuck you didn't.' you say.

'y/n!'

you look over your shoulder and see clarisse looking at you. she's your best friend, you always train together and she's a great team captain. but this?

'he's on our team.' she says.

'why?'

'because you two are the best swordsmen at camp. it's the logical choice for capture the flag. work together.'

'I will not-'

'not up for discussion. he's on our team, deal with it.'

you turn to percy, walking up to him and giving him a look of pure malice. 'just because you're on our team does not mean I won't hesitate to fight you.' you say.

'no maiming. no killing. especially not your own team members. those are the rules.' says percy.

'I don't care.' you say. 'don't get in my way.'

you hear percy mumble 'fucking ares kids' as you walk away to get into position before the game starts.

as soon as the starting signal sounds, you head to your favorite spot in the woods. there were always some blue kids who thought they could get lucky, but they always run into you.

you're waiting there, your eyes on the path, when you suddenly hear footsteps behind you.

you're just in time to turn around and block the other person's blow.

'you!' you say as you recognise the eyes looking into yours.

'me.' says percy.

'I'm on your fucking team you idiot!'

'I recall you saying it didn't matter.'

'piss off!'

'no.'

percy takes on a fighting stance. he better be fucking kidding. he wants to fight? fine. you can give him that.

'I want to teach you how to become better.' he says.

'at what?'

'sword fighting.'

that's it. it's one thing to attack you from behind. another to tell you he wants to teach you how to be better.

percy knows it's bad fucking luck to claim he's better at fighting than an ares kid. but you've got a tell, and it will get you killed some day.

'you have a tell. let me teach you how to avoid it.'

the nerve he has.

with two quick strides you're in front of him, bringing your sword down on him with all of your strength.

percy blocks it, but his arms are straining underneath the weight of your blow. you really are good.

he swings his sword to your left side but you jump aside and aim the next blow at his legs. he jumps over your sword and kicks you out of the way.

you spin around and attempt to drive your sword through the exposed part of his arm. percy gets out of the way, but only barely.

'you're using your father's strength to guide you.' he says, grunting in between blows of your swords hitting each other.

you don't respond, choosing to save your strength and focus on trying to hit him.

'you're faster than me. you could win.' he says.

fuck him. you are going to win. how dare he question you like this? how dare he question your fighting skills?

you take a step forward, ready to end this fight. but percy kicks your leg out of the way and pushes you, sending you backward.

'you step before you strike.' says percy. 'with your right foot.'

what the fuck?

'I have to give it to you, it took me a while to realise it.'

'been watching me, have you?'

you start to circle him, looking for an opening to strike.

'yes. now start avoiding the step before you strike.'

'I don't need a poseidon kid to teach me how to fight. you're doing this to distract me.'

'is it so hard to believe I actually want to help you? clarisse is right, we'd make a good team. you're almost as good as I am.'

'I can never be a team with someone who insults me to my face.'

'right. never claim to be a better fighter than an ares kid. noted.'

you race forward and strike percy, hoping he doesn't expect it.

he does. he easily blocks your attack.

you're furious. no one is better than you. certainly not percy.

you let your rage take over, going in for another attack, subconsciously taking one step before striking. percy kicks your foot.

you're breathing heavily. he wants to teach you? fine. you keep your footing in place as you strike, catching him off guard.

percy is too surprised and is too late to block your blow. you slice through his upper arm. it's not a very deep cut but it still bleeds. you smile as you see the blood start to slowly trickle down his arm.

you strike again, but only nearly hitting him. you can teach him as well. for instance, his weak point is his legs. you sweep them out from under him. percy falls to the ground as you point your sword to him.

'you're beaten.' you say.

'and you listened to me.' he says.

you hate to admit it, but he did have a point. once you focused on not taking a step before striking, you were able to beat him.

you reach out with your other hand.

percy is eyeing your hand suspiciously.

'I'm pulling you up.' you say. 'the fight is over. I won. I'm not striking an unarmed, beaten opponent.'

percy takes your hand and allows you to pull him to his feet.

'thought you didn't like me.' he says.

'I never said that. you annoy me. but ares kids respect good fighters. you're a good swordsman. and you were right. I have a tell.' you say.

'did you just admit to liking me?' says percy, smiling.

'I also said you're annoying.'

'but you like me.'

'doesn't make you less annoying. now come on, we have a flag to capture.'

the two of you take off to rejoin your team. during the fight, something had changed between the two of you. if percy could point out a flaw you didn't know you had, you're curious to see what else he knows about you that you don't know about yourself.

maybe it's a good thing he convinced clarisse to let him join your team.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

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