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AWW THIS IS SO SWEET THANK U SO MUCH!!

THANK U SO SO MUCH!!

ur a great writer keep at it thank you for feeding me 🙏🙏

WOW WOW WOW!!! THANK U SO MUCH??

I've been putting off writing literally any fic that comes to mind because I'm afraid of my skills not holding up to the same standards to the ones I read, but I truly appreciate that a lot of you love Stupid Song! Thanks for showing support<3

Pairings: Ethan Nakamura x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst (?), Mediocre writing, No one dies in this perfect world. Reader is a bit delusional and forward. Ethan is a grumpy, angsty teen.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings & Content: First fic, so hopefully, no one thinks it’s dogshit. Cursing. Reader's cabin isn't mentioned, No War AU, Ethan lives—obviously. Lee Fletcher also lives. Implications of alcohol? Please leave a comment if I missed anything. 

Synopsis: Ethan Nakamura thought the free coffee at the camp’s dining pavilion tasted like dirt water. Seriously, couldn’t the Demeter kids at least harvest better coffee beans? Though, he didn’t dare say that in front of them, they must already know if the campers went to the cafe more. To Ethan’s dismay, the annoying barista keeps flirting with him when he orders, which immediately ruins his day. Though, not annoying enough to stop him from going back. Which he does purely because the coffee is good… right?

Author’s note: Hello! I’m Vi and I really love the side characters in the Riordanverse. Scrolling through literally every fanfiction app and website makes me feel for the characters who never have any fics written about them so I want to change that and write theirs. Keep in mind, though, that this is my first post and English isn’t my native language, so take it easy on me. That being said, my inbox is open for requests and criticism, so just leave a message, any message. I hope you enjoy reading just as much as I did writing!

2 Summers Ago…

Ethan had always thought that great stamina meant that if he spent the whole day yesterday training, it wouldn’t take a toll on his body. 

Boy, was he wrong.

Not only was his back killing him, he felt as if the bed was calling him back into its warm and soft embrace. Ethan almost found himself shutting his eyes again and being lulled to sleep by his fatigue.

Almost.

As tempting as another hour of rest sounded, it wasn’t worth losing his progress.

Ethan was already in the running for the sword fighting trainer position once Luke graduated from camp. He didn’t need to lose the one thing he could excel in. He wouldn't spend another year being a measly assistant.

He begrudgingly swung both legs over the bed, wincing in pain.

Pain is always temporary, Ethan thought to himself, rubbing his face with a hand in an attempt to wake himself up properly. 

Maybe if he stood up, his body would realise that exhaustion was a weakness he couldn’t afford to harbour.

Nope, big mistake.

But, not big enough.

He grabbed whatever shirt was on the foot of his bed and made his way to his cabin’s bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.

Having the camp’s head doctor reprimand you at 8 in the morning was a terrible, horrible, awful way to start the day, but Ethan found himself in the position anyways.

Lee Fletcher was Ethan’s best friend. Though, right now, it didn’t look like it.

“I don’t know how many times I need to remind you to tell the kids to take it easy when training without you or Luke present—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ethan waved his hand dismissingly as his legs led him to the coffee pot.

“Oh, sure.” Lee rolled his eyes. “Like how you had it last week, before little Cadel came into the infirmary cause they were trying out a trick you taught them?”

Ethan paid him no mind. He’d deal with it after he's had his coffee.

“You’re gonna drink that coffee?” Lee eyed Ethan warily. 

All the counselors knew not to drink the coffee in the office. 

It didn’t have any side effects or magical effects.

It simply tasted like dirt water.

Which was the exact reason why Ethan was refraining from drinking coffee until now.

“I feel like shit.” Ethan muttered, watching the coffee pot heat up with an intense gaze that could rival Medusa’s. “I need coffee or I’ll pass out.”

Perhaps if he stared at it enough, it wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’m telling you, just go to the cafe.” Lee shook his head at his best friend’s stubbornness.

“Nope, absolutely not, out of the question.” Ethan’s answer comes almost immediately. “I am not paying for a cup of coffee I can get for free.”

“Come on, the barista there is really nice and pretty,” Ethan glares at Lee, wondering why he would care if the barista was pretty, but that’s just the kind of person Lee is. He’ll find a compliment out of anyone. Even the worst people. “Plus, she makes a great latte—or Americano, which I know you’ll love.”

“The barista’s attractiveness won't make up for my lost money,” Ethan scoffed, pouring himself a mug.

“You’re gonna regret drinking that,” Lee mused, knowing his best friend well enough to know how he’d react.

“Worth it if I save a couple bucks.” 

He took a sip.

Then spit it back into the mug right away.

‘Gods, that’s awful!” Ethan grimaced, setting the mug down, “Seriously, how is it that bad?”

“Ethan.” Lee tried to interrupt.

“No, really, is it the beans? Can’t the Demeter kids grow better ones—”

“Ethan!” Lee exclaimed before taking out 3 bucks from his pocket. “Try the cafe.”

“Having you pay for me is worse than paying for it myself.” Ethan rolled his eyes, wondering how lucky and stupid he was to have such a kind friend.

“Relax, I told the barista I’d bring more people in.” The son of Apollo chuckled, handing out the money. “Really, you’re doing me a favour by going.”

Ethan hesitated for a minute.

Lee was offering to pay for his coffee. Surely, Ethan could do him a favour by helping his friend out.

“Fine.”

The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans combined with the soft sounds of jazz hit Ethan’s senses as soon as he stepped foot into Better Half Cafe. He looked around, trying to decide if the place at least looked like it was worthy of his well-earned money. 

There aren’t that many seats. That made sense for such a small place. They made do with what they had. For that, Ethan had to applaud them. 

Ethan disapproved of all kinds of waste. This cafe didn’t seem to waste their limited space. The walls were covered in colourful posters, varying from bands, films, and promotional flyers for camp activities. The tables and seats were organized strategically to fit as many as possible. Still, it didn’t feel crowded. 

“Okay,” Ethan muttered to himself. Great start.

He lined up, thankful he didn’t take that extra hour of sleep, giving him enough time to wait for his coffee.

After a few minutes, it was his turn to order.

"Hey, welcome to Better Half!” You greeted him with a warm smile.

You must be the barista Lee was talking about.

Lee was right, Ethan thought. You were pretty.

“What can I get you?” You asked, tapping your pen on the counter as you waited for him to order.

“Uhh, I’ll get an americano.” Ethan answered. The perfect order—not too sweet, strong enough to get him through the day, and cold enough to beat the heat of the summer.

“Great, what size would that be?” You asked.

“Large.” Lee gave him enough for an upgrade.

You nodded, taking a large cup from the stack and writing AM on it.

“Okay, can I get a name for that?”

“Ethan.”

“And your cabin?”

Ethan freezes for a second, eyebrows furrowing at the question. 

“Is that relevant?’ He asked, trying to come up with any reason you would be asking him for his cabin when all he wanted was a cup of coffee. 

You simply tilted your head with a smirk.

“You think you’re the only Ethan at camp?” You challenged.

“I doubt that there’s other Ethans in the room right now.” Ethan did not want to deal with this argument—if you could call it that—so early in the morning.

“How would you know?” You clicked your tongue. “Did you take their orders?”

“Fine,” the son of Nemesis groaned, deciding it wasn’t worth the fight. “Cabin 16, Nemesis.”

You nod, writing on his cup, nodding as if he entrusted you with important, top-secret information.

“And are you single or taken?”

“Okay, there is no way that information is relevant.” Ethan exclaimed, exasperated.

“Oh, it’s relevant, alright.” You insisted.

“That, in absolutely no way, is relevant in making a cup of coffee.”

“How would you know—you’re not a barista.”

“I didn’t hear you as the kid before me.”

“Oh, no, Tommy’s not my type.”

Ethan froze for a minute, not knowing what to say or how to feel about that.

He usually knew exactly what to say—even if it was harsh, as long as it was the truth. But now, he was stumped. Sure, girls have flirted with him before, but none of them caught him off guard like this.

“I just want my coffee.”

You smiled, giggling at his blunt words as you placed his cup in the queue.

“That’ll be 3 dollars.”

Ethan gives the money Lee gave him. The exact amount, he notes. Lee must come by here a lot if he managed to memorise the menu. The son of Nemesis doesn’t understand why he would if the barista was this annoying.

After a few minutes of waiting, Ethan’s name is finally called. 

Not his cabin. Not his relationship status.

Just his name.

And so Ethan walks out of the cafe in an even sourer mood than he was before his unpleasant interaction with you. The whole experience was terrible. Ethan shuddered just thinking about it.

Nope, he would tolerate a lifetime of shitty coffee from the counsellors’ office if it meant never having to converse with you again.

How could he be friends with you?

How could he not roll his eyes at the mention of your name?

How could he sing praises as if you were the only person worthy of them?

Lee was stupid—evil for making Ethan go through all of that.

Then, he took a sip of the coffee.

Ethan stopped in his tracks, staring at the cup in his hands.

“Damn it.” It was the best cup of coffee he’s ever had.

And so Ethan decides that he would be more than willing to spend the rest of his life listening to your aggravating voice and looking at your sweet, sickly smile if it meant having coffee as gratifying as the one you made.

3 bucks wasn't much anyways.

The Present…

Every time Ethan Nakamura walks into Better Half Cafe, he wishes—prays that by some miracle, Clovis is the morning shift barista. He knows he’s being delusional. The idea of Clovis waking up early is laughable that he wonders if he’s lost his mind just thinking about it. He blames his naivety on his lack of caffeine right now. 

It’s not like his hatred is unreasonable. Ethan likes to think of himself as a fair person. He believes that no matter how drastic the situation, one should always, always, see both sides before coming to a conclusion. 

Last week, one of Ethan’s trainees accidentally hit him on the head with their staff after someone called their name. Did he get a bruise on his cheek for a week? Yeah, but he couldn’t blame the kid. He was thirteen once—he understands how vital it is to impress your crush.

Yesterday, Connor Stoll (pun intended) stole his Smashing Pumpkins shirt while it was drying on his window. Did he stomp his way to Cabin 11 demanding he give the shirt back? Well, yeah, but he forgave the cheeky brunette right after his shirt was returned. He couldn’t help that his dad was the god of thieves. The kid was born to be a kleptomaniac.

Just this morning, after he got out of bed, he tripped on one of his little siblings’ stuffed bunny causing him to fall flat on the floor. He would’ve been pissy all day if the culprit, his little sister Lisa, didn’t look up at him with the cutest eyes and pout, apologizing for her bunny “jumping off the bed.” He just didn’t stand a chance.

One person, however, makes Ethan question this rule. 

You only took this job because you were bored. After spending practically your whole life at Camp Half Blood, you’ve tried everything this place could offer. 

Arts and Crafts? There’s only so much you can do with limited supplies.

Picking strawberries? In this heat? Yeah, no.

Swordfighting? Maybe it isn’t the best thing to make a fool out of yourself right where your crush is teaching.

The same crush who just walked through the cafe doors, wearing the poker face you swore he was born with. Ethan made his way to the counter with confidence, and you swear that he looked better today than yesterday, and yesterday, and yesterday despite wearing the same bright orange shirt as everyone else. 

You saw him roll his eyes the moment he saw you behind the counter and you immediately knew that it was going to be a great day.

“Well, well,” You mused, leaning forward into the counter with a wide grin. “What can I get my favourite regular?”

“Americano,” Ethan answered immediately. 

He never indulges himself in your advances-not even the small talk. The one time he did, he ended up being 30 minutes late to his training lesson with the Iris cabin. Ethan blamed you for that, though, he had no idea why he even stayed in your presence that long

“Wow, what happened to hi or hello?” You rolled your eyes. You liked Ethan, that was clear as day. Still, you weren't giving him a pass to be mean to you.

“Hi, Hello, Americano.” Ethan repeated without changing his expression. 

“Alright, then,” You let out a sigh, punching the order information into the cash register. “That’ll be on the house-”

Before you were able to finish your sentence, much less look at him, he dropped the exact amount of money onto the counter. 

“Or not, I guess.” You didn’t bother asking his name anymore. Just handed him his receipt with a smile. “You know, one of these days, you’re gonna have to let me pay for your drink.”

 “Sure, maybe when you finally stop bothering me so early in the morning,” He answers back, walking to the waiting area, where he usually leaned as he watched you make his coffee. You know, to make sure you’re doing it right.

“Which cabins are you handling today?” You ask while the espresso was brewing.

“Limos and Demeter,” He answered curtly, voice permanently monotone. 

“Ooh,” You winced. “Those kids do not get along.”

You weren’t fortunate enough to elicit an answer out of the boy, so you changed topics, trying to look for one that he’ll entertain.

“So are you coming to the counselors’ campfire on Friday?" 

That grabbed his attention.

“Are you psycho?” Ethan asks in a harsh whisper, looking around if any campers heard me. “If some kid snitches-”

“Relax,” You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as you finished making his drink. “The kids don’t snitch if they actually like you.”

Ethan scoffs at the slight jab.

“Are you coming?” He asks, trying to look bored of the conversation that just started. 

“Hmm?” You almost spilled his drink with how fast you turned around in shock. 

Ethan Nakamura was asking about your plans?

“Hey-watch it!” He winced despite expecting you to be clumsy even in the morning.

“Sorry, I was caught off guard by you asking somebody about their plans,” You grinned as if he asked you to be his. Though, in your mind, you were one step closer.

“I asked because you’re the camp’s bartender.”

“Clovis is also a bartender.”

“Great, then I hope he comes.” He muttered, avoiding eye contact with you.

You said nothing, simply rolling your eyes playfully while you made his drink.

“Well?” He asked softly, voice slightly raspy despite being awake for more than an hour. “Are you?”

Gods, you wanted to kiss that pissed look off his face.

“I am.” You smiled, walking towards him as you handed him his drink.

He nodded, almost looking pleased at your answer, before walking backwards for a few steps.

He takes the drink from you, brushing his hand against yours.

“Good.” He muttered. “I’ll go if Lee does.”