FEIGNING FOR YA’

it’s…taken me…way longer to type this than I should, atp gonna use text to speech.

I got my nails done for an event and I underestimated how hard it would be to type with acrylics, bare with me about writing ch 5 of FFY 🙏🙏🙏

FEIGNING FOR YA’

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CHAPTER 1

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: as a little childish act of rebellion, you try dating your friend, Luke Castellan, to really piss off your parents (for a actual real reason, not the small things they hate). what was supposed to be no strings attached turned into a little more than just childish revenge.

warnings: slow burn, college au, smau, fake dating to dating, cursing, clarisse x chris, aged up! pjo charcters, yn is older sister figure to percy, luke and thalia are older sibling figures to annabeth

a/n: i have re-written this one too many times and am still in the process of revising and proofreading to give you guys the best condition of the start of this fic series! So sorry for the delay!

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“Are we still friends?”

“What?”

“Can we be friends?”

“After all of this?”

“After all of this.”

It would be a disastrously great story to tell your grandkids (if you had grandkids). Quite embarrassing really, telling someone about how naive and oblivious you were (still are.)

It was spring. The flowers in full bloom. Allergies spreading like wildfire due to pollen. Thankfully, it was raining cats and dogs, so no stuffy noses tonight. You decided to come back from your hometown two days before spring break ended. As much as you were homesick after spending so long at college, your family made you feel homesick for college.

It was torturous. Questions and questions about your college life were thrown at you left and right. From potentially having a significant other to your major that you were taking to who you were friends with to being disappointed in your college major to asking about your grades to being disappointed you party to just being disappointed.

All in all, truly you loved your family. Really, you do. Your aunt made great pastries. Your dad a great cook. Your uncle made really funny (bad.) jokes. Yet, they found some way to critic your every decision and move you make. You hated it.

Your shoes squeaked on tiled stairs. Lugging up your suitcase, you just prayed you didn’t fall. The tiles were wet because people’s shoes were wet. You did not want to pay a hospital bill after barely paying for college.

By the time you got to your dorm, you were already half asleep, running on an overpriced yogurt parfait from the airport. The soft comforter of your bed calling out to you like a siren’s song.

You were lulling off to dreamscape when a loud ominous creak filled the silence. “C’mon. You gotta be better than that. Lock your doors.” Luke’s “charming” voice replaced your peace. “Some creep could waltz in and kidnap you in your sleep.”

“Supposed you’re that creep?”

Luke has been attached to your hip since highschool, freshman year. Both of you have suffered through each other’s numerous cringy phases (only to bring them up for the annual birthday post on instagram).

He was one of the friends your parents despise. They always ranted about how they’ve been a bad influence to you since highschool.

“Depends.” The bed dipped under his weight. “Do you think you look okay enough to go out?”

“I guess, but I feel disgusting.” You answered. Confusion swimming through your mind. Where was Luke going with this?

“Are you upset because of a recent event?”

“Kinda.”

“Upset enough to stay holed up the whole evening?” Luke rephrased.

“No.”

“Okay.” Decision.

You heard his windbreaker swish as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Luke!” Like a bag of potatoes you were tossed over his shoulder. “You fucking—!”

He grabbed what he was originally came in your dorm for and exited. Silena, Chris and Clarisse were waiting for Luke and now, you. “Welcome back!” Silena said, masking her shock.

No one knew you were coming back home early and Luke wasn’t surprised. As much as you wanted to stay in your dorm and sleep, you were glad to be with your friends.

The restaurant was loud and lively. The rain ceasing. College students were celebrating their final few days before classes started up again. The occasional drunks here to watch the multiple football games going on. Your friend group chose to celebrate.

The dim lighting was a stark contrast to the bright TVs that played various football and soccer games. Drinks slid down the bar into the awaiting consumer’s hand. Alcohol got everyone in a better mood during the night (though the same cannot be said the morning after).

A waiter placed down the five shots Luke had ordered, in toast of your unexpected return and the final days of spring break. The shot glasses made a tiny clink before the liquid burned your throat. It left a warm feeling in your chest.

Silena and Clarisse went to take photos via Chris the cameraman. The three went out to the porch of the restaurant bar. You opted out and Luke stayed with you. You weren’t exactly in the nicest clothes.

Another round of shots were placed on the table. Luke ran his fingers through his curls and checked his phone. “What’s bothering you?” He asked.

“What?” You tore your gaze from the two girls and looked at Luke.

“You said you were upset about something, but not too upset to not go out.” Luke explained. “Better to get it off your shoulders than to bottle it up.”

You roll your eyes at his last sentence and sat up in the cushioned restaurant chair. “Family.” Luke laughed a little at that. He’s known how perfect your family wants you to be.

You shove your face into your hands as if you were reliving the reunion all over again. “I didn’t even do anything bad or get in serious trouble this time!”

Luke nodded along slowly, taking in your every word. You can’t tell what he’s thinking as you continue on your little rant. Yet his face shifts as you rant.

“Why are your grades like that?”

“I saw your Instagram post. Drinking? Really?”

You parrot some of the questions your family said to you, with their fake smiles and judgmental eyes. You were old enough to drink! “And then they started talking my ear off about you all. Clarisse! Thalia, you—Silena and Chris” The list goes on. Luke knows it. You know it.

“Why are you friends with that temperamental girl? Lord knows the trouble you’ll be roped into with her.” You mocked your parents, aunts and uncles’ words. “I don’t like how that Thalia girl. Too rebellious, disrespectful too!”

“That one girl is an airhead. Head in the clouds.”

“Don’t get me started on that Luke boy again.”

“Get better friends.”

“Maybe you hang out with a different group.”

“They piss me off! And well maybe they’re concerned about my wellbeing, but—they keep harping me about everything little thing I do.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes exhausted. “Which is why I came back early.”

“So piss them off.” Like that was the hardest thing you do. You unintentionally trigger their judgmental side without even trying.

“What?”

“It’s what I do to my dad. I piss him off most of the time when he tries to come back.” Luke shrugged. “If they hate all of us so much. Date one of us, shit—date me, you’ve known me the longest. I think they’d be pretty pissed about you dating a bad influence.”

“That’s so childish.” You commented, but it was good, but it could work. Rebellion never hurt anyone that bad. Well, maybe your aunt will have a “heart attack”, but it should be fine.

And you were out of options to try and get your family off your back.

So the next afternoon, when Clarisse was out, Luke and you sat on your bed and conjured up a contract for this temporary relationship; a day before break was over.

“I don’t see why we need a contract.” Luke sipped on a juicebox. The sunlight providing a nice atmosphere in your dorm room.

“I saw it work on a show I watched kinda.” You whispered the word “kinda” under your breath. It was a long time since you’ve seen the show.

Luke raised an eyebrow and set the empty juice box on your desk. “So…uh—terms and conditions.” You typed out on a Google doc in big bolded letters. How do you start this?

“We could “date” from now until the start of summer? I think that is a long enough rebellion.” You suggested and looked at Luke. “I have to go back home for Easter and my little sister’s birthday, but then I have that family trip in summer…”

“Sure.” Luke agreed.

You looked at him silently asking him to elaborate. “From now until that family trip is over. I’ll go to Easter, the birthday and the trip.”

“You aren’t trying to mooch off me for the trip are you?”

Luke slid the computer to him and typed out the first terms and conditions. He ignored your question with a smile and a shake of his head. “You have to come with me when it’s Mother’s Day though.”

You agreed to that relatively quickly. Your mom and dad were always out of town that day. “I’m fine with kissing on the cheek and forehead and holding hands, if you are?”

“What? No lips?” Luke teased with a grin.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.” You muttered in embarrassment.

“Fine, no lips.” You were slightly surprised Luke didn’t tease you for not having your first kiss yet. He typed it on the computer. “And no sex.”

“No sex.” You agreed. “And we cannot let the others know. They’ll start talking and then it’ll get to my family somehow—”

“Okay…no sex and no talking about the fake relationship.” Luke chucked and typed it on the computer. “This seems good enough for a contract right?” He still thinks the contract is stupid.

You smack his shoulder. “This is serious, Luke! If I wanna piss of my parents I have to do it right.”

“Okay, sweetie.” He spoke sarcastically and typed his name at the end of the document. You did the same. “But there is no right way to piss off someone. You just do.”

After signing the temporary dating contract, Luke and you talked about the story of how you got together.

Luke and you supposedly have had some unrequited feelings during highschool. Both of you began talking over spring break after a drunk conversation and decided to give dating a shot.

Then, there was the fact that Luke and you had to announce the relationship. So, social media it was. Which prompted you to grab his hand. “Where are we going?” Luke asked as he was dragged off your bed.

“A cafe.” You held his hand, fingers lacing together. “I’m hungry after all that and it would be great publicity if we went out holding hands.”

“Whatever you say.” Luke rolled his eyes, though he didn’t mean it. “Then I guess I’ll be the good boyfriend and pay.”

“Really?” You asked and looked back at him.

He shrugged. “Why not.”

Luke and you held hands and talked about whatever came to mind. Like you usually did as bestfriends. He opened the cafe door for you and paid for your food and drink.

Maybe “dating” Luke won’t be the worst thing ever. Rebelling doesn’t seem to be all that bad now. Maybe everything will turn out fine. You rebel against your perfect family and Luke will get a free trip as a reward. Yeah, you’re sure things will turn out okay. Maybe.

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taglist:

@happy-mushrooms @m00ng4z3r

while googling newsies memes to annoy my friend with, I came across this

Don’t know who’s it is, but they’re right

West Side Story

SPIDERS AND THREAD

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pairing: racetrack higgins x reader

summary: race has been flaking on dates more and more. you think he’s cheating until he shows up bloody, bruises and in a hero costume, one evening.

warnings: blood, cursing, description of stitching

a/n: ending is a little meh and i couldn’t think of a title. i’ll try to revise it later.

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Race is rushing to your table from the restaurant, tugging on his jacket in a hurry. Your head titled in slight confusion.

“Race…?”

Race snapped his head towards you. The apology written all over his face masking the urgency. “My uh…mom called.” Race explained hurriedly. “She—fell down the stairs and I gotta go to—”

He’s been doing this often, but you shouldn’t throw out accusations. Just be a supportive girlfriend. “Hey, hey—I get it. Make sure she’s okay.” You spoke sympathetically. Your hand on his arm rubbing it comfortingly.

Race gave you a weary smile. He hates leaving you early on dates especially when you look so pretty in your outfit. He felt terribly guilty. You got dolled up for him and he had to go…

“I love you.” Race kissed you quickly and ran out of the restaurant.

Does he though?

You’re sitting at your desk, mindlessly moving the swivel chair side to side. Thoughts running through your head. The events of the day replaying itself out. You were supposed to be studying for your test, but…you can’t help but think about the date.

It’s not the first time Race ended a date early because something important came up. The first time it happened was because Albert was throwing up a lot. Then it was Jack needed him ASAP for a project and so on.

You’ve seen this happen to one of your friends; literally watched the events unfold before you. Your friend’s girlfriend kept canceling dates or leaving earlier because of something that came up. Turns out the girl was hooking up with some other guy behind your friend’s back.

Race wouldn’t do that, right? The sweet, charming guy that brings you little trinkets that remind him of you? No way in hell would Race cheat.

You scoffed just thinking about Race hooking up with another person. So, you rationalized these thoughts, it was late and you were thinking about this too much, overthinking it. Your mind is just making up stuff to keep you awake to study for your exam next week. That’s right.

Suddenly, a quiet creaking from your window grabbed your attention. Your curtains had been closed since you’ve got home from the spoiled date. You grab the nearest blunt object to throw. The dark figure on the other side of the window, slid it open.

A soft groan escaped the figure. It never occurred to you it could be your roommate. Your sleep-deprived, adrenaline filled brain screamed at you, “Robber, thief, murderer, stranger danger—!”

So, you threw your blunt object as soon as you caught sight of a head. A small yelp escaped your lips. You prayed to whoever you wouldn’t die tonight. You haven’t even finished re-watching Superstore yet.

The figure tumbled into your apartment, catching the object without even looking. “Get out, get out, get out!” You shouted and threw one of your textbooks at the person like they were a bug on the walls.

The figure caught it again and quickly put their free hand up. “Hey, hey! I’m not going to hurt ya’!” The figure stated quickly as they saw you holding a second book. “Please, stop throwing things.” You shrunk behind the book you held like a scared child.

“Who—?” You asked nervously. Intricate details of webs on the costume. Red and blue colors. A spider sewn onto the chest. It is a dead give-away. One of their hands was pressed against his abdomen. Blood oozing out, soiling their costume. Holy fuck. Why was Spiderman in your room? How did he even get here? Did he just stumble upon your apartment? Oh god, and he is hurt.

“What—?” Before you can even ask a question, Spiderman tugged off his mask. Soft blonde curls damp with sweat. Blue eyes filled with exhaustion and affliction. A sheepish smile on his lips.

“Suprise.” Race said dryly.

He thought it’d be better for you to know now instead of later and…he doesn’t think he can catch another book.

“Oh my god—Race!” You launch out of your desk chair to the blonde. Panic running through your veins, your hands cupping his face like he’s fragile. Then it clicks, you realize it isn’t anyone’s blood and wounds, it is Race’s. Race is hurt—how can he just…how?

Your boyfriend. The man who can’t stand spiders, especially daddy long legs, is Spiderman. Spiderman. The fucking vigilante swinging around New York. Is this why he ends dates early? Because he is Spiderman?

You don’t want to believe it, but Race is right here in front of you. Your blue-eyed lover subconsciously leaned into your warm touch. “M’okay.” Race mumbled and kissed the palm of your hand. The comfort of your touch distracting him from the pain. “Just…need your help patching up.”

You went into overdrive. The information you learned was overwhelming. How long has he been doing this? How bad are his injuries? Will he be okay? There are so many risks to this. Spiderman? How can he do what he does?

Your hands were too afraid to touch his upper body as you looked over him. “God…oh—how did..? You’re bleeding a lot…and you look so tired and….how bad is—? I don’t know what to do—! Fuck…you’re bleeding a lot. That wound is huge and—”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Race grabbed your attention from your stupor with the nickname. “Calm down. I’ll walk you through everything. Can you help me to the bathroom?”

Your eyes soften, but his words don’t reassure you. “Mhm.” You pressed your lips together, the worry evident in your eyes as you helped Race to the bathroom. He leaned against the counter.

The first aid kit is under the sink. Race is peeling off the top half of his suit. A wince escaped him as the spandex stuck to his large gash. He ripped it away like a bandaid causing you to cringe. There is dried blood, sweat and dust all over his toned body—which you will not admit you stared at a little too long.

“I would’ve done this myself, but—it hurt to swing any more. I mean, it felt like my body was being torn apart.” He softly said, trying to decrease the situation on why he was here in this getup. A soft blush on his face. It is clear he still felt bad about earlier that evening.

Only a man like Race would blush when he has a gaping wound in his side. “I don’t need your excuses—I just need to help patch you up.” Your eyes hardening after you take a shaky exhale.

Questions and thoughts racing (hah.) your mind. Was this convenient or was this pity for earlier? This is kind of ridiculous—you were dating Spiderman. Race is Spiderman. He could’ve told you—said something so you wouldn’t think the worst of the worst. So you could help him from hurting himself further.

“Okay.” Race nodded slowly. He noticed your snappy comments. He masked the worry and guilt. “Douse a rag in rubbing alcohol and—gently clean my wound, please.”

Race walked you through the steps of how to clean a wound. Your boyfriend had bit into a rolled up hand towel to muffle his agony. Tears brimming his eyes at the stinging. Luckily, the bleeding stopped. It looked slightly less gross than it did before, and it was done quickly.

Your annoyance, anger dissipates for a moment. You look at your boyfriend who removed the hand towel from his mouth. “I—I don’t know how to stitch.”

Race nodded, his head glistening with sweat from the enduring the pain. “You know how to sew though. Just—sew.” He mumbled.

“Race…that—that’s not the same, I can’t just—why don’t we go to an actual hospital? They know better than you or I.” You tried to rationalize.

“Can’t.” Race shook his head, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “I can’t—my blood work and genetics are fucked—please, sweetheart.”

Race begged softly. It seem the blood loss got to him. “I need you to do it. Please. I trust you. Please.”

You grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “Okay…” You say almost inaudibly. Race brings your hand to his lips, a silent thank you. Just like before, Race has a rag in his mouth. Hand gripping your shoulder. His eyes closed shut as your dominant hand delicately holding a needle. The other was on his side. Race shivered at your touch. “Don’t move to much, okay?”

Race hummed in agreement. You pressed the needle to one end of the wound and punctuate the flesh. Race’s hand gripped your shoulder tightly, muffled sounds of pain escape him. You try to get this done quickly. In and out, through and through.

And pull.

You watch the wound close up together seamlessly. It sealed like a piece of cloth and look up at your tired boyfriend. His head immediately falls on your shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He whispered and kissed your neck once or twice.

Your eyes soften. You take Race’s face in your hands and bring his head in front of you. Lip quivering now that you finished stitching up your boyfriend. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I—”

“Race, you’re Spiderman—and I didn’t know! You made me think—think that…” Your voice is shaky, overwhelmed with a number of emotions. Race is Spiderman—he could die at any point.“you were cheating—what if you didn’t come back from fighting a villain? I don’t want to go to a funeral. I can’t—not when it’s the love of my life.”

“Oh, Y/N…” Race hugged you tightly despite the pain blooming in his side. “I’m not going anywhere, or dying—god, I wouldn’t even think of cheating on you, y’know that?”

A few moments of silence.

“Help me.” He mumbled and put his arm over your shoulder. The two of you exit the bathroom. Race was doing a little bit better than before, but you still had to support his weight. You both sit on the bed, Race taking your hands.

“I wanted to tell you, more than anything in the world, but—” He paused. “But…I couldn’t let you get hurt or worse for knowing about me.”

His voice cracked slightly. “If—if you got killed because of me…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I just—and what if you thought I was a freak. I—I can climb of walls for fucks sake and have a sixth sense—” All of the thoughts that kept him up at night spilling out.

“Race—you’re a superhero, shut up.” You stated bluntly. Sometimes Race just needed to hear things as is. You grabbed some joggers he left here and gave it to him. You were no longer anger or afraid, just tired. So tired.

A soft sight escaped you. “You’re tired, I’m tried—this conversation should be for tomorrow.”

Race’s lips parted slightly to retaliate, but a wave of exhaustion hits him. He changed into the grey joggers and got into your bed. You gravitate towards his body heat and bury your head into the crook of his neck. “My boyfriend is a goddamn superhero.” It sounded more in awe. You leaned up to kiss his lips. Race kissed back with a little more passion than intended. Race and you fall asleep in each others arms, knowing—

—at least for tonight, that everything will be okay.

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hiiii are you taking newsies requests??

yes!! i’m still taking newsies requests. i plan on posting one soon! send them in, i could never not write for newsies!

MY BONNIE

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pairing: racetrack higgins x fem!reader

summary: after a year without seeing her, race is able to see her beauty in the moonlight. he’s able to see her, once again.

warnings: small mention of death

a/n: an idea popped up and i couldn’t stop writing. i don’t think “my bonnie” was an actual sea shanty, so we’ll pretend like it is.

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The Seven Seas are dangerous to navigate with the vicious weather and the creatures haunting the depths of the ocean. From krakens the size of two pirate ships to mythic Scylla to serpents that feed on the mutineers to the dangerously beautiful sirens.

The sirens are most common within the Seven Seas. Pirates are wary every time they voyage across the seas. Race even more cautious. He had been a survivor of a few siren attacks. His crewmates don’t believe him. They laugh and mock because all pirates know…once you hear a siren’s song— you are dead.

The moonlight and stars twinkle in the night sky. The crew mates of the Crooked Star laughing drunkenly. Albert or Romeo had found the alcohol stashed below the deck. It caused for a mass party among the crew.

What were they celebrating? They don’t even know themselves, but everyone loves a good drink of alcohol after being on the seas for so long.

Race was leaning against a barrel. A wooden cup of alcohol in hand with a cigar between his fingers. The lanterns on the ship illuminating the wooden deck orange and yellow. A wide tipsy grin on his face as he watched his crew sing sea shanties and dance.

“My Bonnie lies over the ocean!”

“My Bonnie lies over the sea!”

“Well, my Bonnie lies over the ocean!”

“Yeah, bring back my Bonnie to me” “Yeah, bring back. Ah, bring back”

“Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me. To me!”

Yet, something combated the pirates’ singing. Something magical, enchanting to the ears. Something luring. Race could recognize it within seconds. He could always recognize their songs.

It sobered him up real quickly.

“Sirens!” Race’s voice boomed over the singing. The word sobered everyone on the deck real quick. Wooden cups, empty or not, were discarded. Hands covering their ears. Alcohol staining the deck, but they could get the stains out—if the crew survived.

“Beeswax!”

Again, Race’s voice boomed. He’s learned well enough beeswax can muffle the songs of sirens. If that didn’t work, you better tie yourself to the mast of the ship.

Race was able to shove the beeswax into his ears when he saw his friend, Mush, mindlessly walking towards the edge of the ship. The pirate gritted his teeth and launched himself at his entranced friend.

“Mush, you idiot!” Race shouted with intensity. He would not lose his friends to these creatures. Albert helped Race tie Mush to the mast of the ship.

Once you hear the sirens’ song, you couldn’t get out until they stopped. Race rushed to the railing of the ship. He could see the heads of the sirens, peeking out of the dark waters. For a second, he thought he recognized one. A siren from the last attack he went through. That was impossible though.

Jack stormed to the edge of the ship. His face stern as he held his flintlock pistol. A shot rang out. The heads of the sirens submerged in the water quickly.

Race’s heart was beating against his chest. Adrenaline pumping through his veins. All is calm, but you could never be too sure. Mush’s head lolled to the side as he regain his senses. The other crewmates of the Crooked Star wearily glance around at each other.

They look at Jack for orders. Jack looked at Race. At least none of his friends will mock him for “surviving” sirens now. Davey crouched and put beeswax in Mush’s ears. Thankfully, he was the only one who was entranced.

“Retire to your bunks, keep the beeswax in until the morning!” Jack barked the command and glanced at Race. A silent thank you passing his eyes.

Lanterns were blown out as the pirates dragged their bodies below deck to their hammocks. The hangovers tomorrow would be a lot to deal with. Race decided to stay out on the deck. An exhausted look in his eyes. He picked up one of the wooden cups and filled it with alcohol, well—half way. There was barely any left.

The moon was the only light source he had as he leaned against the railing of the deck. A cool breeze blowing through his hair. Race was with his own thoughts for a moment or two when there was a thump and a splash.

Faintly, he can hear a hum. He can’t hear the tune, so against his survival instincts—he takes out the beeswax. He hopes, he prays.

He can hear, clearly, someone humming “My Bonnie”. The shanty his crew was singing earlier. His heart beats against his chest, for a different reason, not fear, but love.

“You humans put words together that don’t make sense and call them songs.” That only confirmed his suspicions.

He turned around and there, right there, was the dangerously beautiful creature he warns others of. She had the face and the upper body of a mortal woman, but that doesn’t dismiss the tail hanging off the deck. The scales that captured moonlight.

Right there, sitting on the edge of the deck was his Bonnie.

“Bonnie can’t lie over the ocean. It’s impossible.” The siren stated. She’s leaning back on her hands. Her hair slicked back against her head due to the sea.

“Y/N…” Race let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It had been so long since he heard her voice, seen her face, her tail, her beauty. It was his Bonnie.

“Hello, my love.” Y/N smiled.

Race tackled the siren in a hug. His knees slammed against the deck. His shirt getting soaked with the water running off her body. He didn’t care— he was just so happy to see her.

Y/N hugged the pirate back. She can feel the weight of emotions through one single hug.

The siren and pirate first met during Race’s first siren survival. He had been the only one to survive out of a crew of 20. This intrigued Y/N. Pirates hadn’t figured out how to survive siren attacks back then, so she was curious.

Fortunately enough for her, curiosity did not kill the cat. Though Race was weary and young, he wasn’t naive. He knew he should’ve killed the siren, yet he held a conversation with them. Maybe it was the despair realizing he was the only one left or possibly, his teenage hormones that couldn’t resist a beautiful creature. Y/N’s company made his sailing a little more bearable.

They talked, laugh, spoke to each other about their dreams every night. Every night, until Race reached land. Y/N returned to the ocean, but not without leaving Race a gift. One of her scales. It was one of the smaller ones, but it held memories. Memories that Race interpreted they both enjoyed each other.

Race confessed his love the second time he saw her. She accepted. He was still young, early 20s, but now…now that he’s a little older and matured — he knows, he knows his love isn’t some infatuation, but true, pure love.

“I see you found yourself a more suitable, stronger crew.” Y/N stated her observations for earlier. Her and her sisters were close to getting one to feed on, but Race got in the way of that. Not that she could be mad.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Race pulled back from the hug to cupped her face. A million of words being spoken with his eyes. “A year away and I still recognized you.”

“A year away and somehow, I’m still dreaming of when I could see you again.” Y/N admitted softly. She glanced at a soft colored silver chain around his neck. She reached out to remove it from under his shirt.

It was her scale on a necklace.

Race kissed her forehead. “Had to keep you close, somehow.”

The pirate sat down next to her. Legs hanging off the deck next to the scaled tail of his love. It still feels unreal that she’s here. He’s praying he isn’t hallucinating from the alcohol and cigar from earlier. “May I?”

Y/N doesn’t respond back. It was something they both needed after being apart for a year. Their lips meet, a contrast in temperature. His warm lips against her cold lips. The smell of the sea on her skin makes him feel dizzy. If the sea and moonlight were a person, it’d be her.

Her hand cupped the back of his neck, deepening the reunion kiss. They kept kissing and kissing until Y/N was warm. They pulled away, but Race hugged the siren once more.

“I missed you so much.” He reiterated.

“I missed you too, my love.” Y/N said it back.

“I didn’t know you were on this ship until I saw someone tackle their crew mate.” Y/N giggled quietly, remembering the scene from her perspective in ocean. “I hate you for being able to prevent our attacks.”

“Well, I survived two others. I would be stupid to not use this knowledge to my advantage, sweetheart.” Race snickered and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.

It was silent for a moment. The couple enjoying each other’s presence. The moonlight reflecting off of Y/N’s scales softly. Race’s body heat keeping Y/N comfortable in his arms. The ship aimlessly sailing north.

“Does the song really mean a woman is lying on the ocean water?” Y/N asked softly. Her curiosity was one of the things he admired about her.

“No, sweetheart.” Race kissed her forehead. “The song is about someone they love caring about the other’s return.”

He paused letting her process. “In this case, us pirates, sing the song in hopes we return to our loved one. Like my captain, Jack, is waiting to return home to his wife, Katherine or my buddy, Romeo, hoping someone is waiting for him at the dock for his return.”

“Or me, waiting to be reunited with you.” Race muttered softly. Y/N glanced up at Race. A small, loving smile on her face as she leaned up to peck his lips.

“You should be singing my Bonnie lies in the ocean. My Bonnie lies in the sea.” Y/N joked with a giggle.

Race matched her smile. “Well, my Bonnie lies in the ocean. Yeah, bring back my Bonnie to me. Bring back, bring back. Bring back my Bonnie to me. To me.”

Y/N leaned her head against Race’s shoulder as he sung the modified words to “My Bonnie”. It was special to them. Only they would know the true meaning.

And when they parted ways, they had a new song to hum when they missed each other. Not a siren song or a sea shanty, just their love song.

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FEIGNING FOR YA

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CHAPTER 3

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: easter with your family sucks and since when can Luke read you so easily

warnings: not proofread! slow burn, college au, smau, fake dating to dating, cursing, aged up! pjo charcters, parental expectations

a/n: guess who’s back from my hiatus! can you tell i used a crazy rich asians line. feedback is much appreciated after i took a long break

series list | next

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You’ve said it once and you’ll say it again. Springtime is truly a lovely time of the year, especially late spring. It was a healthy reminder of the college year ending in a month and a half.

That, along with the flowers in full bloom and allergies at a minimum. Luke watched you enjoy the bright scenery racing by his car window. A sigh escaped his nose.

You were in your head. Luke could tell.

He would’ve said something to cheer you up, anything stupid really, but his car was already coming to a stop. The engine sputtered.

“You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” Luke gently placed a hand on your knee. The incessant tapping you produced stopped. You figured he was slightly irritated with your nerves.

Cars were lined down the street. You could hear people talking in the backyard. Easter was a big holiday. Though a bunny planting eggs in the yards of homes was an absurd caricature to choose. Where did the bunny get the surplus of eggs? Dollar Tree.

Luke listened to you (which really meant he listened to your Aunt Shelley). He traded in his wife beater and button up for a sage green button up. The colors matched your white dress with patterned green flowers.

Sure, you hated coming back home at times, but you wouldn’t use that as an excuse to not dress up for holidays.

“I know.” You spoke up finally and glanced at him. He could tell you didn’t take his words to heart.

“Believe me.” Luke emphasized with a squeeze of your knee. You nodded your head, internally thankful he decided to accompany you this Easter. “We’ll be okay.”

And it was okay, like Luke promised, at least it was.

“That’s the boy you’re dating?” Your parents had pulled you inside the house. Shock and disappointment written all over your mother’s face. The subtle action of wrinkling her nose told you how displeased she was with this.

The Easter party was outside in the backyard. Your younger relatives were playing outside, running around Luke, begging him to join their games. Music was playing and your aunts and uncles were joking around.

It was a complete contrast to the inside of the house. Your mother had still upheld the rule of that quiet, peaceful environment. The ticking of the grandfather clock paired with the hum of the AC echoed throughout the house. It was unnerving how foreign the sounds of your home had become.

“He is.” You swallowed your nerves and guilt to put on a mask of faux confidence. You switched from hugging your arms to crossing them. “He…he is sweet and kind and treats me right.”

“He is the one who turned you into some sleaze!” She accused and pointed her wrinkly finger at you. Your father grunted in agreement, staring you down. “Do you not care about your future?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you take a deep breath. You weren’t going to let your parents push you to be their “perfect little girl”. You dropped your hands to your sides and stared at your mom’s judging eyes.

All you’ve done is care about your future, your life. It was the constant studying, the constant tutoring kids who didn’t care. Just to make your college resume look like the perfect candidate for some top notch college. High school was so mundane and terrible and you tried to look on the bright side, tried to reason with your parents—your mom’s, decisions.

“I told you to get rid of those friends of yours and now you’re dating the bad influence. The fly!” Your mom reminded you harshly. Always your and your friends' fault for turning out a certain way. Always. “You never listen to me because of them—him!”

Luke was starting to become concerned with how long your parents were keeping you from festivities. Your little sister and cousins have asked him to lift them up with just his arms so many times.

They were getting impatient, waiting for the Easter Egg Hunt to start. The sky has even taken it’s cue to start going to bed (as your little sister called it)

“He is not a bad influence. He doesn’t smoke and rarely drinks.” You defended with a firm tone. “Luke and my friends are not going to ruin my future because I want to have fun.”

“It’s that mindset that’s going to get you homeless!” You left the conversation after that.

Judging stares and faux smiles were plastered on your older relatives as soon as you left the house, followed by your parents soon after. Aunt Shelley was a prominent figure, reveling in gossip and family drama.

Luke wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your temple. A silent act of reassurance, that he was here. You watched as your cousins and little sister ran around the large backyard, collecting the plastic little eggs.

“Look!” Your little sister presented a shiny pink plastic egg. She smiled, proud of her find. The sun was beginning to set. A range of oranges, pinks and yellows complimented the clouds and the horizons. The lights in the backyard blinked on.

“That’s really shiny. What’d you get?” You crouched down to your sister’s height, entertaining her ego.

She opened it with a small ‘pop’ and inside was money. “I’m a dollar and twenty-five cents rich!” She exclaimed with a happy smile. Your sister proudly showed off her reward to Luke.

Your sister was the only reason you came back home anymore,

It wasn’t until dinner was served that the whispers became prominent. Left and right as you sat and ate, you heard how different you were. How you back talked (back sassed in Aunt Shelley’ words) your parents. How disobedient and ignorant you’ve become and what they would’ve done in this situation.

“How could she talk back like that? My sister only cares for her future.”

“I would’ve made her do online school.”

“Mm, no bad influences. Smart man, Thomas.”

“When children are away from home too long, they forget who they are.”

God, couldn’t they just mind their business?

“Let’s just go.” Luke suggested smoothly. His voice is like caramelized honey amongst the sea of scratchy voices. It made your stomach churn because it was the best thing he could’ve said to you all night (totally)

At this point, Luke could read you like a book. Since the food came out, you’ve been in your head, thinking twice about this act of rebellion. Doubts seeding through your mind. He needed to pull you out.

And as much as you wanted to stay for your little sister, your need to get out of that backyard outweighed it.

The final stop of today’s lovely excursion was the local lake. The sandy banks were warmed by the fading sun. Luke was determined to cheer you up.

Though he wasn’t doing a good job. He left you at the lake alone.

It was a little bit before he showed up again with a flower bouquet, take out and his jacket. “What good fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t try to cheer you up?”

“You left me for twenty minutes.” You rolled your eyes. He sat down next to you and handed you the flowers. The appreciative smile betrayed your annoyance.

“Y’know, in a way, you did piss off your parents.” Luke nudged your shoulder, changing topic. You ran your fingers over the flower petals. “Like you wanted.”

And that was what you wanted. To get back at your parents, to piss them off, for how judgmental and controlling they’ve been of your life. So shouldn’t it feel good?

Luke kept staring at you, taking in how resigned you looked. Your mouth turned downwards whilst your eyes hid how upset you were at the comments.

“Thank you.” You finally spoke up and placed the flowers in your lap. “I think…we don’t have to continue this anymore.”

You spoke with much thought put into this. The whole goal was to piss off your parents. Why did you need to fake date when you already did that?

“Don’t be stupid, sweetheart.” Luke rolled his eyes and opened up the Chinese food he bought. “I’m still in it for the trip.”

You snorted. Of course he was. “Besides, you haven’t even touched the surface of rebellion. You feel unsatisfied because you planned this.” He made his point by gesturing with his chopsticks.

“You’re not supposed to care about what other people think of you or your actions.” Luke shoveled some Kung Pao Chicken in his mouth. He talked like he was an expert on this. He was, but only to his dad.

“So what now?” What a failure this was.

“I help you experience your new freedom with rebelling.” Luke smirked and offered you some food. “C’mon sweetheart, the least you could do is indulge in my ways.”

“Okay, Master Yoda.” You laughed and took a piece of his chicken. The sky had fully darkened and the stars blinked in the night sky.

“No, no! I’m Anakin! Come to the dark side.”Luke and you look out at the stars and constellations. You lean your head against his shoulder.

“Fine.” You mumbled. “I’ll join the dark side.”

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taglist:

@happy-mushrooms @m00ng4z3r @justanotherkpopstanlol @2hiigh2cry @celluifleur @yuminako @pookiebear16 @mxtokko @cxcillia @kai-islost @kidkrowk @iluvpjo @sofiacblair @cherryynovaa @dracoslovergirl @lalloronaisreal @jennapancake @urbanflorals @sweetstime @cherr-y-eji @thatbird-fromrio @itzlilywelch @annispamz

Spinning these around in the washing machine that is my brain