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#pjo one shot
repairgirl · 9 months
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3. move-in pt. 1
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affectionately yours fem!reader insert + social media & college au 
a/n: UPDATE IS FINALLY HERE!! heads up- i'm going to be bringing in a lot of my personal interests + experiences w college into this story, so in this case i'm so sorry if you don't like taylor swift LOL. anyway i'd really suggest listening to gold rush with this chapter, it's a beautiful song and very fitting :) as always, send me an ask if you'd like to be removed or added to the taglist, and enjoy!!
masterlist < previous > next
leo taglist: @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @persephil @mmmelanie-blog1 @blue-violin @goldengoddess @dee-zbignuts @animes-trash @vintagebitc @nottherealslimshady @vermilioneyess @cellias @lovemss @skullduggered @queenbvadva @violet-primrose
affectionately yours taglist: @vermilioneyess @burrito-fight @lily-valdez5684 @lovely-rainy-dayss @hrts4leo @he11queen @violet-primrose 
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slu7formen · 2 months
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disarmed by desire. | luke castellan x f.r
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₊˚⊹♡ luke can’t seem to get out of his head a certain someone, things become even harder when that certain someone, is an aphrodite’s daughter.
warnings: seduction, sexual tension, luke is obsessed over reader, reader’s an aphrodite’s daughter, reader has long hair (not really a warning but whatever).
reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
pt2 here
Luke Castellan was obsessed with you.
No, not obsessed. He worshipped you.
He didn’t even know when it started. It was not one thing or situation that started it all, but little small things he witnessed that eventually lead to his confusing and strong feelings he wanted to desperately hide.
Being an Aphrodite’s daughter was no joke, nor was it falling for one of them. All of your brothers and sisters shared an unbeatable beauty. Each one of you is so different, but yet so similar. But the more you grew since your arrival to the camp when you were fifteen, the more you stood out to Luke’s eyes. The Aphrodite cabin girls were known for their charm, but you seemed different, less concerned with vanity and more with genuine connection.
The first flicker appeared during Capture the Flag. Luke wasn't actively participating, a rare occurrence for the camp's best swordsman. Instead, he leaned against a tree, nursing a minor but piercing shoulder wound himself, when she appeared. She wasn’t running across the battlefield like a fiery warrior, but holding a kid’s hand as he was a whimpering mess walking behind her, he sat down on a rock and she instantly attended his bloody knee.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry” her voice had said, and the little kid almost immediately stopped sobbing. “Other kids can be mean sometimes. What’s your name?”
Luke watched, spellbound, as your nimble fingers, surprisingly calloused for a daughter of Aphrodite, expertly cleaned and bandaged the wound. Sunlight kissed your hair, turning the braids into strands of melted gold. Laughter danced in your voice, calming the kid down and blending with the clash of swords.
It wasn't just your beauty, though that was undeniable. It was the tenderness in your touch, the quiet confidence radiating from you, a stark contrast to the usual flirtatiousness Luke associated with your cabin. He quickly realized you were also one of the few Aphrodite’s daughter who had the ability of influencing others with your voice; charmspeaking.
Even when your voice didn’t resonate for him, but for the little kid you were attending, he felt undeniably attracted to your sweet melody, maybe that’s why he stared so long at you too.
Then, your eyes met his. A smile bloomed on your lips. "Need some patching up yourself, brave knight?"
His breath hitched as your eyes pierced his, a blush creeping up his neck. He stammered, "No, I'm good." But the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He wasn't just injured physically; a new wound had opened in his chest, one caused by a flirty smile and a concern genuine enough to pierce through his thick built-up walls.
Luke's attraction to you wasn't solely physical, but he'd be lying if he didn't find himself momentarily stunned by the way you carried yourself.
He couldn't help but steal glances when you wore shorter skirts or crop tops that hinted at the toned physique earned through years of training, or when the older campers organized a secret night out at the lake in which you made sure to wear the best bikini you could find. He'd catch himself mesmerized by the way sunlight would dance on the curves of your body, sending a flicker of heat through him and his own veins. There was an undeniable beauty in your perfectly applied makeup, but it only served to highlight the mischief sparkling in your eyes and the warmth etched on your smile.
It wasn't just the jealousy your beauty ignited in other girls, or the admiration you garnered from younger campers. It was the way you moved, how confidence flowed through you like liquid gold, making even the simplest actions seem captivating. One afternoon, he saw you braiding wildflowers into your hair, your fingers moving with practiced ease, and he found himself staring with parted lips, hypnotized by the delicate beauty you created.
He started finding himself drawn to her laughter, its rich melody echoing through the camp. He'd catch glimpses of her practicing archery, her form uncannily elegant even as she sent arrow after arrow into the bullseye.
She was perfect.
His mind would try to rationalize, tell him it was the warrior in you that drew him in, the way you handled a sword with both grace and ferocity. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was the way your beauty existed in perfect harmony with your strength, a potent combination that left him both breathless and curious.
He wouldn't admit it out loud, not even to himself, but the truth was, Luke found himself daydreaming about brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth of your skin against his fingertips as he leaned it for a kiss of your sugar lips. Something as simple as that had him zoning out of every conversation and forgetting about activities in the camp. He imagined the playful glint in your eyes when you caught him staring, the teasing lilt in your voice as you challenged him to a duel.
Until, well… a true duel emerged. Summer was just starting after all, and practice needed to be done.
Steel sang beneath the afternoon sun as their practice began. The sky was painted with orange and bright yellow colors, as your darkened figures danced around the field. Luke, known throughout camp as the prodigy at sword fighting, moved with a controlled ferocity, his blade a blur of deadly grace. But his opponent today wasn't your average camper. You wielded your sword with the effortless elegance of a former ballerina, impressive to be someone who’s main skill is not fighting, he had to admit. Each parry was a pirouette, each attack a leap defying gravity.
Sparks flew as your blades clashed, but where Luke relied on brute force, you danced around him, using your agility and unexpected angles to deflect his blows. He felt a frustrated flush creep up his neck and loudly beat inside his chest, every missed strike fueling the unspoken tension swirling between you.
Sweat already glistened on your sun-kissed skin, adding a raw allure to your perfectly applied makeup. It dripped down your collarbone and hid underneath your shirt.
Luke fought with intensity, fuelled not just by the thrill of the duel, but by the desire to impress the captivating enigma before him. You, in turn, met his ferocity with playful taunts and flirtatious dodges, your laughter tinkling in his ears.
Some campers have forgotten about their own practices, drawn to the captivating spectacle between you two. Whispers swirled about Luke's unmatched skill, your surprising prowess, and the undeniable spark crackling between you.
“Look at that” Grover shook Annabeth’s arm, eyes pierced in two shadows swiftly moving around the grass, clashing their blades with resonating grunts and heavy breaths.
“Who’s that?” Percy suddenly asked, eyes wide and parted lips hypnotized by the slender figure whose hair flew around like it had its own life.
“yn, an Aphrodite’s daughter” his friend explained. “Not bad at swords at all, though. But she’s got Luke on his nerves”
Percy nodded. “Yeah, I can tell”
But Annabeth laughed. “Not that kind of nerves. Let’s just say she’s enjoying the attention Luke gives her”
The fight went on, each passing moment stretching the boundaries of skill and endurance. Your movements were a whirlwind of elegance and precision, forcing Luke to constantly adapt, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“Tired, hero?" you purred, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you walked around him and twirled your sword, the sunlight reflecting off its polished surface. "Perhaps a touch of Aphrodite's charm is what you need?"
Luke gritted his teeth, channeling his growing attraction into focused strikes. But despite the heat of the battle, your image kept blurring his vision - your smile, the way your hair fell around your face, how your cheeks flushed red and your glossy lips parted as you blocked his movement against you one more time. He felt his defenses crumbling, his usual stoicism replaced by a raw need to prove himself, not just as a swordsman, but as a man worthy of your attention.
“Careful, princess. Playing with fire might just burn you” he countered as he parried a particularly fierce blow, the impact sending a tremor up his arm. His voice was low enough for only you to hear.
"Oh, Luke" you laughed. “Thanks for worrying so much about me but, I know how to handle a little heat" You lunged, your blade aimed for his shoulder. He barely deflected it, the tip grazing his bicep, sending a jolt of adrenaline through him.
In a swift, mesmerizing blur, your blade danced around his, finding an opening. The clang of steel resonated as your sword disarmed him, sending his clattering to the ground. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged rasp of his breath.
He lets his knees fall to the ground, thinking you would have enough mercy for him to give him a break. But he found himself with the tip of your blade resting gently under his chin. You tapped it twice.
“Up, Castellan” you demanded. He looked up at you.
Your eyes, sparkling with both victory and amusement, held him captive. Sweat and dust smudged your face, adding a primal beauty to your already breathtaking features.
A slow smile tugged at his lips, not of defeat, but of something deeper. He lifted up his hands. "Seems I underestimated the true power of Aphrodite's daughters" he rasped, his voice husky with exertion and something else – an undeniable desire.
“Hell yes you did!” one of your sisters replied, earning a few laughs from the rest of the campers.
The small crowd erupted in cheers once the battle was determined as won by you. Luke eventually got up, sword still under his chin. He was much taller than you, to which you had to lift your own head up to fully see his face.
The roar of the crowd faded into a distant hum as Luke only focused on the heavy pounding on his chest, sword dangerously still close. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a path past the flush blooming on his cheeks.
"And it seems that our little hero falls not just to skill, but also to some… irresistible charm" you purred, amusement tugging at your lips.
Luke grinned, a touch cocky, a touch breathless. "Perhaps," he conceded, voice husky with exertion. "But I wouldn't call it defeat” he cooed as you slowly put your sword down, placing it next to you. His gaze dropped, tracing a slow path down the curve of your sweat-kissed neck, lingering on the way your shirt clung to your form. Your exposed legs shined underneath the weak sun. The air crackled with unspoken desire, the playful banter now infused with something hotter, more primal.
"Besides," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "victors deserve their spoils, don't they?"
His words hung heavy, loaded with hidden meaning, a meaning only the two of you seemed to understand now. You felt a blush creep up your neck, surprised by the sudden shift in his usual way of being towards you. You knew he knew you flirted, that you did it with ease. But this was different. This was Luke Castellan, the stoic, the untouchable, and suddenly, he was playing your game.
"And what kind of spoils are you thinking of, big boy?" you countered, your voice barely a whisper.
Luke looked around, campers long gone, already going back to their own activities as soon as your tense situation ended.
He stepped in closer, the space between you shrinking to a charged silence. "Maybe,-" he rasped head down and still heavy breathing, "a dance with the warrior who disarmed me not just with her blade, but with her breathtaking distraction."
His eyes flickered down to your lips, the unspoken desire sparking a flame within you.
“Or maybe something a little more private, as you wish” he continued.
The world seemed to shrink to the heat emanating from your body, the intoxicating scent of wildflower and victory mingled with sweat. Your pulse quickened, a blush blooming on your cheeks.
You laughed in disbelief, smoothly placing your long hair on one side of your head, bright mane elegantly falling like a cascade without you even trying. "Bold proposition, handsome" you replied, voice barely a breath, still trying to catch it. The nickname twisted Luke’s guts, in a good way, might as well have woken up something else. "But maybe you should focus on winning a proper duel before demanding rewards"
He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Challenge accepted, my lady” he whispered, stepping back and raising an eyebrow. "But know this; our next battle won't be fought with steel, but with wit, charm, and a touch of something… different"
You tilted your head to the side as he took his sword from the grass. "And this time, I won't underestimate an Aphrodite's daughter, or the power of warrior who knows how to play just as dirty as she fights"
This wasn't the playful banter you were used to, but you sure liked it. This was Luke Castellan, awakened, and the thrill of it was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"We shall see, Luke" you countered, your voice husky with a newfound nervousness as you pronounced his name. "We shall see."
As you turned to address a new opponent on the field, the memory of his voice, hot and suggestive against your ear, lingered on your skin. This wasn’t what you started, this was a dance of unspoken desires fueled by sweat, steel, and the awakening of a forbidden hunger in the heart of Luke Castellan. And you, the daughter of Aphrodite, were ready to play.
He couldn't help but watch you go, his heart brimming with a newfound determination. He admired your skill, your wit, your beauty, and most of all, the way you made him feel – breathless, excited, and utterly captivated. Your golden figure disappeared into a new crowd of campers looking for someone else to fight.
This was about to be one of the best summers ever.
pt2 here <3
I’m so delulu over this man istg
Currently reading PJ 3rd book :) Had to retake my lecture after I watched the show
ALWAYS OPEN FOR REQUESTS! <3
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demigods-posts · 8 months
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percy jackson has a driver's license. i would just love to know how that went for him. how many times he had to take the test because his instructor kept being a monster in disguise. or better yet. him making undocumented turns and routes to avoid the hydra a couple of blocks ahead of him, or the minotaur that miraculously senses anytime he's in a car and won't leave him alone since he was in sixth grade.
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sayoneee · 4 months
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☆ POISON
“miss her, kiss her, love her, wrong move you’re dead, that girl is poison” - bell biv devoe (2.2k)
contains: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite! reader. acquaintances to friends to secretish lovers. silena + drew mentions. during tlt.
kashaf’s note: u cant tell me a group of teenagers lived together at summer camp and no one had secret parties. dont @ me for the 90s music references (+ i imagine avantika vandanapu as silena, and momona tamada as drew)
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i. and if there was a problem / yo, i'll solve it
“CASTELLAN?” YOU APPROACHED him slowly, tone cautious as if you were speaking to a wounded animal, although in this case, maybe you were, as you reached for his bruised knuckles, remaining persistent, even as he tried to withdraw his hands out of your grasp. “why’d you do that?”
“did i need a reason?” there is a forced jocularity to his words, a well-practiced mask he is never seen without, and you cringe slightly, your gaze catching the grimace that twists his lips. his attempt at a ‘roguish’ grin falls flat, the expression a discordant note against the backdrop of his injuries. luke’s already busted lip splits open, a thin line of crimson carving a river down his chin. he moves to wipe it off the back of his arm, but you’ve already pulled off the bandana tying up your hair (a birthday present from a half-sibling) and begun rubbing at his face.
luke’s eyes widened at the gesture.
despite being tentative acquaintances since your arrival, you’re still annoyed that luke castellan continues to underestimate just how much of his heart he wears on his sleeve — or rather, just how well you manage to see past his facade. his blatant lie hangs in the air, unacknowledged. instead, you deliberately shift your gaze to the purples and blacks that mar his knuckles, setting about wrapping them with your bandana, obscuring the damage.
“i could’ve done that myself,” luke says, amused, his words lightly appreciative. still, at your answering glare, he tosses his hands in the air in surrender as ‘ice ice baby’ continues in the background, uninterrupted, “but thank you, though.”
“i’m no apollo kid, but it’ll do,” you shrug instead of accepting the gratitude, tugging him to his feet, ensuring to grab his uninjured hand, and hauling him outside. 
“you’re no apollo kid, and you decide to take the injured man away from where the apollo kids are actually gathered,” luke muses, once again entertained with himself (was there any other emotion this boy could experience besides amusement?), once the lights of the apollo cabin are so far behind you, neither of you could fully see each other.
“you’ll live,” you say, scowling at him through the darkness, forgetting he couldn’t actually see you.
“and you’re moody for a daughter of aphrodite,” he says, still holding onto your hand as he trails after you.
you stop in your tracks, pinch the bridge of your nose, count to three, and finally turn to luke, who still has his stupidly pleased-with-himself expression on his face. “luke castellan, if you don’t end up dying of some tragic fate or the other i will hunt you down myself.”
“duly noted.”
“holy hera, do you even want to know where i’m taking you?”
“nah, i think the mystery really adds some suspense.”
“that’s it, i give up,” you say, before beginning to drag him back to the apollo cabin, when he plants his feet in the dirt ground firmly, grinning crookedly at you as the moonlight finally shines through the clouds, suddenly bathing him in a luminescent glow.
“nah, c’mon, let’s go to your spot.”
you glare at him, watching how his stupid grin only seems to grow in size, an annoyingly endearing trait. with a sigh, you continued to drag him along, scowling each time he tried to make a quip.
“what if we get to your spot, and i find out this was all just a ploy to murder me?” luke muses out loud, looking thoughtful for once.
“do you seriously believe that if i was gonna murder you, i wouldn’t have done it by now?” you say, pausing when he shrugged in agreement, “we’re here though, whiney baby.” 
luke’s eyebrows rose as he took in the secluded area near the dunes, finally meeting your gaze again. “aw, i can’t believe you just planned out our first date.”
“i seriously don’t know what any of my half-siblings see in you.”
“so you’ve discussed me then.”
“shut up, i dragged you all the way here, because even though i know you like attention, i don’t think you wanted the attention you were getting from punching that poor hephaestus kid in the jaw,” you say shockingly sincerely, startling both yourself and luke.
luke doesn’t say anything, letting what seems like a confession hang in the air, instead, sits down near the water, and rubs a hand across his jaw, watching you as you follow suit, sitting next to him. 
after spending what seems like minutes in silence, watching the waves lap at the shore, luke finally speaks, staring out at the horizon, his tone slightly hollow, and devoid of all things you have come to label as luke castellan, looking eerily similar to the night he had returned from his infamous quest, “heroes aren’t meant to be happy.”
you drew your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head. “i know — achilles, orpheus, theseus…” you trail off.
“and hercules,” luke adds, almost melancholy. 
“i think i’ve pretty much accepted i’ll die young,” you say, your words coming out in nothing but a whisper despite the two of you being alone.
luke nods in solidarity, lost in thought. “it shouldn’t have to be like this,” he finally says, voice hardening.
ii. talking sweet and looking fine / i get kinda hectic inside
“okay, for this technique, i’ll need a partner,” luke says, looking straight at you. “can you come up here?”
deciding to oblige him, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly, smiling as you joined him in front of the other campers, who had begun whispering when he called out to you. in the crowd, just past your half-siblings looks of shock, you can see the stolls passing around a wad of cash. 
luke addresses the crowd once more, “i need everyone to be paying close attention here, we’ll be demonstrating how to parry, or counterblock for the newcomers.”
as both of you get into position, luke smiles, “don’t forget to go easy on me.”
you laughed, “don’t bet on it, castellan.”
your demonstration ends up feeling like eons, as the two of you continue to dance around each other, parrying and jabbing, and lunging, and striking, and parrying. both of you are panting, your faces flushed as you continue, and just when it seems like you have the upper hand, luke side steps, and easily parries your finishing blow, disarming you in the process.
you laugh as you yield, loving the exhilaration from the fight, but when the two of you face the campers once more, more than half of the crowd is slack-jawed. 
luke, ever the showman, can’t resist a grin, “not only was that your lesson to not underestimate aphrodite cabin, but also to show you the level we’re trying to get you guys to. now, partner up and spread out.”
before you can turn back to address luke again, drew is suddenly at your side. 
“what the fuck was that?” drew hisses, grasping your elbow and leading you away from the training session in full swing, pulling you into your cabin, where silena sits on your bed (still in her armor), clearly awaiting this impromptu confrontation.
“what was what?” you choose to feign innocence, examining your nails before glancing up to see the twin expressions of horror on both silena and drew’s faces. 
“do not act dumb,” drew eyes you coolly, “it’s so beneath you.”
“i’m not acting dumb,” you rolled your eyes at the both of them.
“yes you —”
“you and castellan,” silena interjects, “we want details, now.”
“what details even are there to give?”
silena grabs drew’s arm, pulling her back from apparently nearly pouncing on you. 
drew rolls her eyes at the hand on her arm, and then focuses on you, “you’re literally our next head counselor and you and castellan had never so much looked at each other until this week and now he’s asking you to help demonstrate training techniques, like hello?”
silena snapped her fingers in agreement, “c’mon, you can’t deny that something didn’t happen.”
“nothing did,” you crossed your arms across your chest.
“you know what,” drew says, “if you wanna be like this fine. come find me when you finally decide to — i don’t know — talk to your sisters?” she storms out of the cabin, leaving you alone with silena, who sighs, gives you an apologetic look and goes after drew. 
“well, that was a shit show.”
you whirl around to see your head counselor standing at the entry of the cabin, poised as ever, not a hair out of place as she stood, examining her manicure, looking bored, as usual. 
“couldn’t agree more,” you sigh, sitting on your bed, head in your hands. 
your head counselor takes a seat beside you, “look, i don’t care for whatever petty drama just unfolded, you’ll get over it, daughters of aphrodite and all,” she waves a hand in the air, “— but for now, we have more pressing issues. i’m gonna leave for college soon, and the entire cabin knows you’re my successor.”
you nod as she paused, meeting your gaze, and you can’t help but examine the perfect shape of her eyeliner, scanning her entire picture-perfect face in an attempt to discern her mood.
“i don’t care whatever it is you have going on with castellan, but you need to complete the rite of passage, before you become head counselor.”
“the rite of passage?” you asked, having only heard the phrase in hushed conversations around camp, the knot in your stomach tightening as she continued.
“no child of aphrodite is a true child of aphrodite without having broken their first love’s heart,” is all she offers as an explanation, completely straight-faced. “castellan is perfect for your rite of passage.”
your eyebrows furrow as you consider her words, and with a final nod, and gentle squeeze of your arm, she leaves you with both her legacy and your mother’s legacy in your hands. 
“oh, and before i forget, whoever doesn’t do it always ends up cursed.”
iii. now let me pray to keep you from / the perils that will surely come
luke’s shoulder brushing against yours has turned out to be extremely distracting, and now you can understand why your cabin is more notorious for breaking hearts, rather than falling in love. you can’t seem to focus on anything except how close his hand is to yours, even the golden hue of the fire or the sing-alongs can’t divert your attention. 
the distance between the two of you grows imperceptibly smaller when luke suddenly clears his throat, on the verge of saying something, when a twig snaps behind the two of you, causing you to jump apart and look at the intruder. 
annabeth is standing behind the two of you, looking faintly apologetic, but also terrified. “sorry if i interrupted you guys,” she offers, rubbing her arm.
you share a glance with luke, nodding at him. “you weren’t — luke can always talk to me later,” you say, offering her your trademark smile.
annabeth nodded, “thank you,” as luke gently squeezed your hand before getting up to comfort her.
“don’t thank me, sweetheart.”
you’re at your usual spot when luke rejoins you, running a hand through his curls. “sorry,” he says, “someone left a spider in athena cabin, and no one could kill it.”
you chuckled, “if it wasn’t a total accident, i’d bet money it was travis and connor.”
the corner of his mouth quirks up at the mention of his siblings, “i think you’re spending too much time around them to pick up on their habits.”
“or maybe, i’m spending too much time around you,” you offer, smirking at him, trying to ignore the funny feeling in your chest as he smiles genuinely at you.
“i like to say i’m an acquired taste,” luke shrugs, sneaking a glance at you as you laugh at him. 
“i think i’ve acquired that taste,” you say, without thinking, before realizing how phenomenally stupid that sounded.
luke smiled widely, “y’know, if you weren’t a daughter of aphrodite, i would’ve told you how corny that was —” you shoved him here, “— ow, let me finish, but i actually am really glad to hear that.”
“no wonder,” you smirked, “i can practically hear your heart beating out of your chest.”
“okay, look who’s confident all of a sudden.”
you shut him up with a soft kiss that has him seeing stars. 
iv. i know what’s weighing on your mind / you can be sure i know my part
“again, what the hell is going on with you and castellan?” silena asks one early morning before breakfast, birds chirping as she’s lining her eyes with kajal, glancing at the mirror in her hand as she sits at the top of her bed.
“nothing.”
“i literally saw you guys making out and had to scrub my eyes out with soap,” drew adds, looking extremely disgusted at the thought of relieving that experience, as she paints a fresh coat of nail polish. 
“fine, you’re right,” you concede, curling your eyelashes. 
“don’t you have to do the rite of passage, though?” drew asks, pausing to look up at you.
“i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you say slowly, setting the eyelash curler down on the vanity.
“excuse me?” your head counselor has her hands on her hips, the annoyed expression on her face marring her perfect features, towering over you as she stands in front of your bed.
“i said, i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you enunciate, looking up at her, maintaining eye contact.
the temperature of the cabin seemed to drop ten degrees, and for a minute or so, your stare remained unbroken until she shrugged. “your decision... but don’t say i didn’t warn you,” before dramatically whirling around and heading to the pavilion.
silena gave you a look as drew arched her brow, and you simply shrugged in response.
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© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.
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wlntrsldler · 2 months
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mdni (luke castellan)
thinking thoughts of luke castellan and car sex.
you’re out on a quest or some shit and something— everything goes so wrong. and luke is just so frustrated.
he’s in the driver’s seat, fuming, im talking veins popping out on his temple and his hands are gripping the wheel until his knuckles are white and you should be scared because you’ve only seen him like this once or twice before and that didn’t end up well. but you’re not.
you’re turned on.
something about imagining his hand around your neck while he’s pumping all his frustrations into you like you were nothing but a fuck toy to him makes your tummy feel weird.
he doesn’t notice it at first because his eyes are on the dark, empty road, but then he sees your thighs press together and he smirks.
his baby is horny.
he signals right and you’re confused because camp was still a few miles away and there was nothing around you guys to stop at. then he puts the car in park and kills the battery. he’s on you after the headlights turn off.
it’s all teeth and groans and luke is undoing your seatbelt so you can climb over the middle console of the car and get on his lap. he doesn’t pull his lips away from you while he pushes the driver seat back.
he’s thrusting up into you, moaning into your mouth when he feels the slick through your leggings and he’s feral. he wants to taste you.
he opens the door and practically shoves you out of it to lead you to the backseat and for the first time, he’s actually thankful that camp was in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere because he’s hard as a rock and the tent in his pants is borderline embarrassing.
you’re laying down with your elbows propped on the armrests in the backseat and luke is on his knees. he’s looking at you with those eyes, and you know that it means he’s not stopping until he pulls two orgasms out of you.
he feels hot in his shirt so he takes it off and tosses it somewhere before he’s pulling your thighs with a yelp and propping your legs on his shoulders. he just devours you.
his tongue is relentless on your pussy, sucking and licking at your clit that you can’t stop yourself from thrashing around.
he slaps your ass hard enough to leave a print and he’s mumbling into you, “stay fucking still.”
and you’re whining telling him you’re trying but it feels too fucking good and he adds two fingers with his tongue and you lose it.
he’s reaching deep until he feels that spongy area inside of you. bingo.
his fingers keep hitting the spot and then you’re cumming all over his face. he knows he should pull away because he cant breathe but he physically can’t bring himself to. your taste is so intoxicating.
he’s breathing heavy when you shove his face away, overstimulated. your wetness is all over his chin and he’s grinning at you like he just won the goddamn lottery.
when your body gives out and one of your legs slip from his shoulder, your knee accidentally brushes against his hard cock and he hisses.
“you got another one for me?”
you want to say no because your last orgasm was so intense you almost blacked out but luke’s lips are puffy and wet and his pupils are dilated so wide you can barely make out the brown in his eyes, so you nod.
he’s quick to undo the buttons on his pants, like he’d burst if he wasn’t inside you in the next ten seconds. he thinks he actually might.
he pushes his pants down just enough to let his dick spring up, angry and red, dripping in precum. he sticks his cock inside you and you’re moaning, babbling incoherent words.
he’s gritting his teeth so he doesn’t make any noise but when you reach for his hand— he thinks you want to hold it, and he’s more than happy to show his baby he loves you— and guide his fingers around your throat, the sound that leaves luke’s lips is sinful.
he squeezes gently, just enough to make you lightheaded and make your next orgasm come quicker. you can’t say anything else but luke, luke, luke, please.
you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore but with the way you look under him right now, luke would give you anything in the world if you asked for it.
he tears his eyes away from your fucked out face for a second and watches the way his dick moves in and out of your pussy. there’s sweat dripping down his chest and you want to lick it off him but you don’t have any energy left to sit up.
he’s rutting into you fast, chasing his own release. and you pull him back to look at you because you’re telling him you’re close and luke wants to see you finish.
when the coil in your tummy finally snaps, you’re practically yelling at the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. luke removes the hand from around your throat and he reaches for the foggy window to hold himself up. as he cums into your spent pussy, his hand makes a hand print on the glass and he groans.
he pulls out of you with a whimper, his cock softening as he tucks it back into his pants. he watches as you catch your breath, licking his lips at the sight of his cum seeping out of you.
“look at my baby,” he cooes, unable to stop himself from taking his fingers and shoving it back into you so you don’t waste his cum. “so pretty when you’re all fucked out for me.”
you don’t make it back to camp until the next day.
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soulofapatrick · 4 months
Text
Kiss Me Tired - Percy Jackson x Female Reader
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Summary: you can't sleep so go to find your best friend - Percy
Words: 1.9k
warnings: none
Y/N’s POV
I find myself tossing and turning, the sheets tangling around my restless limbs, as elusive sleep evades me once again. The Apollo cabin is quiet, the soft hum of night almost suffocating in its stillness. Moonbeams trickle through the window, casting gentle patterns of the wooden floors. 
Grateful for being on the bottom bunk tonight, I slide from under the covers with practiced ease. The gentle thud as my feet meet the floor barely makes a sound, but each step feels amplified in the silence of the sleeping cabin. Slipping on a pair of shoes without lacing them up, I make my way to the door, my heart pounding louder than the muted thuds of my footsteps. The door creaks slightly as I ease it open, wincing at the noise before exhaling a relieved breath as it swings shut behind me. 
Staying close to the comforting cover of shadows, I weave my way through the lingering clusters of campers, their hushed conversations mixing with the rustling of leaves in the night breeze. The children of Nemesis and Nyx, silhouetted against the faint glow of the campfire, seem engrossed in their own whispered discussions, oblivious to my presence as I navigate the edges of their gathering.
I skirt the edges of the Poseidon Cabin, a refuge I’ve often visited, and slip inside, grateful for the cover of darkness. The familiar scent of saltwater and adventure lingers in the air. The cabin is eerily quiet, echoing with the absence of Percy—the solitary presence that usually defines it. 
My steps echo softly against the wooden floor as I venture further in. The moonlight filters through the windows, causing elongated shadows that dance across the cabin’s interior. Percy’s empty bed confirms his absence, leaving the cabin strangely deserted. 
Curiosity propels me deeper into the cabin, my gaze landing on the backdoor open, leading to the pontoons. The moon’s silvery trail illuminates the pathway to the water’s edge, inviting and ethereal. The realisation settles in—Percy, the sole child of Poseidon, often seeks solace by the lake, where the water sings the tales of his father’s realm. 
The sight before me steal a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. Percy sits there, silhouetted against the shimmering reflection of the moon on the water, a portrait of quiet strength and contemplation. His unruly hair catches glimmers of moonlight, creating an otherworldly halo around him. 
As I draw nearer, the tranquility that envelopes him seems almost tangible. The lake mirrors the night sky, stars dancing on its surface, and Percy, the living embodiment of that serene beauty, captures my attention entirely. 
He turns at the faint rustle of my approach, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his pretty lips. His sea-green eyes, illuminated by the moon’s gentle glow, hold a depth that echoes the mysteries of the ocean. It’s mesmerising, the way he seems both a part of the night and a beacon within it. 
Percy’s messy black hair catches the moonlight in a way that makes it seem like constellations have woven themselves into the strands, each unruly wave a testament to the untamed spirit he embodies. His lightly tanned skin, kissed by the sun’s rays and caressed by the gentle breeze, holds a warmth that feels inviting even in the cool night air. 
As I settle next to him, a comfortable ease settles between us. Percy shifts slightly, adjusting his position, and I follow suit, instinctively resting my head on his shoulder. It feels oddly natural, as if this silent language of unspoken understanding has been written int he stars all along. The coolness of the night dissipates against the warmth of his presence. His shoulder, solid and reassuring beneath my head, carries the weigh of both the wards burdens and its beauty. 
His sea-green eyes, s deep and enigmatic, gaze out into the horizon, the mysteries of the universe reflecting in their depths. The seven expression on his face speaks volumes, as if he’s a silent guardian, watching over the secrets of the night.  The gentle breeze whispers secrets to the night, and I feels Percy’s arm, strong and comforting, wrap around my waist, pulling me a fraction closer to him. It’s a gesture of silent understanding, an unspoken invitation to share the weight of ur silent night-time musings. 
“Why can’t you sleep, Mouse?” Percy’s voice, soft and inquisitive, breaks the tranquil silence with my stupid nickname he made for me. His concern is palpable, yet I hesitate to divulge the true reason behind my sexlessness, my heart pounding against the confession I’m afraid to voice. 
I shift slightly, trying to evade the truth, the words catching in my throat as I struggle to articulate the turmoil within, “Just… thoughts, I guess. You know how it is.” 
But it’s a hollow response, a mere veil covering the truth that simmers beneath the surface. The mere thought of Percy and Annabeth together as a couple, a union so celebrated and cherished among demigods, twists a knot in my stomach, a painful reminder of my unspoken feelings for him. 
The fear of vulnerability and the ache of unrequited affection hold me captive in a silence that feels suffocating. I can’t bring myself to admit the ache his closeness evokes, the ache that surges every time I see them together, facing the world as a pair that everyone wants to see. The perfect couple. 
A grumble of protest escapes my lips, as I know he sees through my lie as he stays silent, a frustrated sound that I can’t seem to contain. I turn my face, burying it in the comforting crook of his neck, hoping to hide the turmoil that threatens to spill over. His chest rumbles with a soft laughter, a sound that’s both comforting and teasing, pulling me out of my momentary retreat. 
Before I realise it, his finger hooks gently under my chin, lifting my face to meet to gaze. The concern etched into his expression melts away any remaining resistance, coaxing me to open up even as my heart clenches with the vulnerability of it all. 
“Hey,” He murmurs softly, his sea-green eyes searching mine, an unspoken invitation tp share whatever weighs on my mind. 
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to dissipate. The urge to confess tugs at my heartstrings, a silent plea to unburden the ache that gnaws at me. But the words romain elusive, trapped behind a barrier of fear and insecurity. 
My heart hammers against my chest as his thumb traces a gentle path across my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that seeps into the cracks of my guarded emotions. I meet his gaze, sea-green eyes holding mine in a silent conversation that speaks volumes. 
I feel myself drawn to him, my eyes inadvertently tracing the curve of his lips. The soft moonlight casts an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the contours of his face in a way that feels almost surreal. 
As my gaze lingers on his lips, a surge of emotions—longing, fear, and a yearning for something more—swirl within me. Self-control wavers as my heart takes over, propelled by an undeniable urge to bridge the gap between us. 
Without warning, without calculation, I lean forward, closing the space between us. My lips meet his in a moment that feels both suspended in time and yet over too soon. It’s a soft, tentative touch, a leap of faith and vulnerability woven into the tender connection.
 For a heartbeat, the world stills around us, the air crackling with the unspoken truth of our shared emotions. The warmth of his lips against mine like a revelation, a stolen moment that lingers as a testament to the unspoken desires I’ve kept hidden. But, just as quickly as it happens, the weight of the moment hits me, the reality crashing down like a tidal wave. I pull away, breathless and wide-eyed, my heart thundering in my chest, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. 
“Perce… Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“ 
Before I can finish my stammered apology, the words tumbling out in a jumble of regret and confusion, Percy’s gentle touch silences my anxious ramblings. He leans in, cutting off my faltering speech with a soft yet determined press of his lips against mine. It’s a kiss that carries a subtle urgency, a reassurance woven into the tender connection that leaves me breathless and wide-eyed. 
His lips, warm and inviting, mould against mine in a way that feels both familiar and utterly new. There’s a tenderness to his touch, a silent promise of understanding and acceptance that sends a shiver down my spine. His kiss tastes like the promise of untold stories, of shared secrets whispered in the stillness of the night. 
My heart leaps in my chest, responding to his gentle yet confident touch. I reciprocate, tentatively at first, before letting myself be swept away by the overwhelming rush of emotions. My hands, initially hovering uncertainly in the space between us, find their place, one resting against his chest and the other timidly finds its way to his cheek, relishing the warmth and softness of his skin. 
His hands, strong yet tender, find their place at the small of my back, pulling me closer in an embrace that feels both reassuring and exhilarating. The closeness of our bodies, the shared warmth between us, creates a cocoon of intimacy that blurs the boundaries of friendship and something more. 
The moment lingers, suspended in a haze of shared emotions, before Percy breaks the kiss, his breath mingling with mine as he gently pulls me onto his lap. My knees rest on either side of his hips, a sudden rush of adrenaline mingling with the warmth of our closeness. Then, he guides me down, our bodies molding together in a dance of longing and unspoken desires. His hands, firm yet gentle, cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he leans in for another kiss.
This time, there's a hunger in his touch, a raw passion that ignites between us. Our lips meet again in a union fuelled by the unspoken confessions of our hearts. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a dance of lips and tongues that express the emotions we've kept buried for so long. His fervour is matched by mine as I respond eagerly, the longing I've harboured finally finding an outlet in this shared intimacy. The taste of his kiss is electrifying, a rush of emotions that consumes every inch of my being.
My hands find their place on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, drawing him closer in a silent plea for more. Our bodies meld together, the heat of our closeness building an unspoken intensity that blurs the lines between friendship and an uncharted territory of passion.
In the soft moonlight, our embrace becomes a symphony of desire and longing, each movement a testament to the unspoken connection we've discovered. And as we lose ourselves in this intoxicating moment, the boundaries of what we were and what we might become blur in the heat of our shared passion.
“Come on sweetheart,” Percy finally pulls away, “You can sleep here tonight.” 
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Percy Jackson Universe Masterlist - To be added TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023
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lila-went-missing · 3 months
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Saw you want to write Clarisse x Reader and I NEED more clarisee x reader fics SO!
Can you a Clarisse x reader of when Percy broke her spear and just like readers reaction to the her scream and just very angsty but very fully at the same time! Pls and thank u!
I swear on my life reverse hurt/comfort is one of my favorite things to write on this planet. Also, I feel like it’s worth mentioning that Dior said she literally BLEW OUT HER VOICE when she did that scream?!?! She never fails to amaze me.
This got a bit sadder than intended but it's not too bad. Also, sorry this took so long, I had a math test, two essays, and a debate, on top of personal shit. But I FINALLY got it finished.
My Love is Waiting For You to Come Home
Warnings: Slight violence, mild angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, small amounts of blood, mentions of wounds, lmk if I left anything out.
Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Apollo!Reader
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For the first time in what felt like forever, capture the flag was going great. It had been a long time since the red team had won, but you were actually doing really well. You were up in a tree close to the flag, shooting anyone who got too close with your arrows. They weren't sharp, but they had enough of a point to hurt.
Clarisse was hunting in the woods below you. You'd occasionally catch sight of her from the place you were perched on your branch. She always looked amazing like this. Hair pulled back, armor on, spear in hand. She was in her element, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't extremely attractive. The way she looked so tough, her lucky red bandanna tied around her bicep.
Anyone else would say she looked terrifying. But to you, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever laid eyes on. You were the only one who got that side of her.
It wasn't long before she disappeared again, hunting down anyone who dared to get close to the flag or your tree. She had mentioned something before the game. Something about revenge on the new kid. She didn't go into detail about said revenge, but you new it wouldn't end well for someone.
You didn't move from your tree, assuming her and her siblings had everything handled. And they did, for a while at least. You had shot down another four people by the time you heard your girlfriend scream in a way that genuinely terrified you.
Jumping down from the tree, you raced to the sound as the conch horn blue. You made it in time to see her storm off as the blue team carried the flag over. Just before she made it out of sight, you saw the spear in her hand. Or rather, what was left of it.
Oh gods. You thought.
You tipped your head back, letting out a breath before turning in the direction she went. You found her in the arena, tearing dummy after dummy into shreds. You let her go at it for a while, watching from the doorway.
Eventually, you slowly walked towards her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Clar.." You whisper.
She jumps, turning quickly, ready to knock you into the ground before relaxing. All of the tension disappears from her face, her bottom lip trembling. You reach forward, taking the sword from her hand and tossing it into the rack haphazardly.
"I- fuck.." She drops her head forward, breathing hard.
"Come on.. it'll be okay." You lead her towards your cabin, knowing all of your siblings would be in the infirmary tending to peoples wounds. You can see cuts and bruises on her arms, giving you a feeling that her back will be even worse. You make sure to grab the pieces of her spear on your way out.
On the way to your cabin, her eyes don't leave the ground. Your hand stays on her back the the whole walk, not leaving even as you open the door for her.
She sits on your bed, putting her head in her hands. The broken weapon lays on the foot of your bed as you sit next to her. Her breath shakes with her body.
"Let me clean you up, okay?" She nods, at your words.
"Okay.." Her voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before. You lean forward and pull her shirt over her head, confirming your suspicions about her back. An angry red covers almost the entirety of her tan skin, small amounts of blood leaking from a few spots.
You hover a hand over the scrapes and cuts, a warm glow emanating from your palm. Her wounds slowly heal as her muscles relax. Your heart breaks for her every time you hear her wince or feel her breath hitch. Your free hand reaches forward, grasping hers. A few small scars form over the area, but nothing that won't fade.
You lean your chin on her shoulder when you finish, wrapping your arm around her front. Her other hand reaches up to hold your wrist.
"I love you.." You whisper into her ear.
She hesitates, not speaking for a few moments. When she does her voice is as shaky as her body.
"That was the only thing- the only proof he-" She can't finish either sentence. You can feel her holding her breath as if she's trying not to cry.
"I know, my love. I know." Your lips press into her shoulder. "I'm gonna talk to some Hephaestus kids, I think there's a couple of Hecate kids in the Hermes cabin. I'll do everything I can to fix it."
Her whole body shudders. She's never had the best relationship with her dad. He'd always said that she should've been a son. That spear was the only acknowledgement she'd ever gotten from him. And now it was broken.
A few tears slip down her cheek that you pretend not to see.
"It'll be okay, Clar'." Your arms tighten around her as her head leans into you.
"Thank you." She mutters. If it wasn't for your close proximity you probably wouldn't have heard it at all.
"You deserve someone to care about you.. I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to be that person."
"I love you. So much." Her voices is so soft, so gentle.
"I love you more." You're not sure how long you sit like that, but it's long enough for your legs to go numb. You can bring yourself to care as she looks so comfortable. She's always had to fight for her dad's love. It gets tiring after you do everything you can to get no recognition. It was nice to know she had someone. If she didn't have anyone else, she would have you.
Eventually you moved positions to her laying on your chest. Your hand rubs up and down her back as her wrap around your waist. She traces patterns across your skin with her finger tips. It's not long before you're both sound asleep in each other's arms. She would never have to fight for your love, it was just there, ready for her when she came home.
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lafleshlumpeater · 2 months
Note
Luke Castellan x Daughter of Dionysus reader? The show version of Dionysus was funny and I just want to know how the whole interactions would go
i loved this request, thanks sm for sending it in!! i actually haven't watched the show, so if this is inaccurate i'm v sorry </3
warnings: mentions of eating and drinking (no alcohol), fem!reader, established relationship, mild PDA, nickname
luke castellan masterlist
Your boyfriend lovingly nuzzles his nose into your temple from where he's sitting next to you. “Your dad is giving me looks,” he whispers. Your lips pull upwards at Luke’s antics, rolling your eyes and looking over at your father at where he’s sitting next to Chiron. He’s trying to be subtle, you’ll give him that, but there’s nothing implicit about the way he’s eyeing your boyfriend in an attempt at being suavely menacing. With his leopard- print shirt, pot belly and an aluminium Coca- Cola can he’s gripping so hard it’s beginning to crumple, it’s not working.
You take a bite into your wrap. “He is.”
“He’s scaring me.”
This elicits a snort from you, choking slightly on a cucumber chunk. “Luke Castellan, one of the most intimidating campers at Camp Half- Blood, is scared of my dad? The god of wine?”
Luke whines in protest through a sip of water. “Yeah, the god of wine. Imagine, if, like, he got drunk and… I don’t know, whacked me around the head with a baseball bat.”
You snort. “What? Babe, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know your name.”
Your boyfriend pouts. “That makes me feel so much better.”
“Baby.” Luke rolls his eyes playfully, relishing in the banter the two of you have managed to maintain throughout your relationship. But his momentary glee is cut short when he realises Dionysus has risen from the table, disposing of his empty can and making his way over to where the two of you are sitting. Panicked, he nudges you.
“He’s coming,” Luke indiscreetly whisper- screams, as if you hadn’t noticed already.
“Relax, nothing’s gonna happen,” you murmur back. You were sure of it. Mostly.
“Luis,” your father greets, suddenly next to the two of you. Luke swallows, afraid to correct him. You’re milliseconds from letting out a laugh aloud.
“Dad, it’s Luke.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Yes. Lucas. That’s what I said.”
You can’t help but purse your lips, both from suppressing an entertained chortle and half in contempt for your father’s annoying penchant of feinting at carelessness for every camper who wasn’t you. Honestly, you were surprised he didn’t give you the same treatment sometimes.
“Well, Lucas, it has come to my attention you are dating my daughter.” He nods towards you; you cringe. If he was about to give Luke the ‘take care of my daughter or else’ talk, you were going to run away and never come back.
Luke nods, gulping. “Yes. Sir.”
Trying to save him and yourself from embarrassment, you intervene. “Dad. Please.”
“Oh no, no,” he insists. “I just wanted to have a quick word and say that… the two of you look quite happy. And I’m proud of the two of you.” He turns to the shell- shocked boy beside you. “But I have to mention, young man, if anything changes-”
“Okay dad!” You shoot him a ‘please stop’ look disguised in a beaming grin which he’s on the receiving end of too many times to be oblivious to. “Thank you! You can go now!”
Finally, he wanders off again, muttering under his breath. You catch little of it, something about how ‘teenagers nowadays’ and ‘so ungrateful’.
You turn to Luke; he’s already looking at you with an incredulous look on his face. “What… just happened?”
Like a ticking time bomb, your laughter finally escapes, Luke quickly joining you.
Dionysus looks on, back in his seat next to Chiron, hiding a satisfied smile behind a glass bottle of Coke.
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READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
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hxshpuppies · 3 months
Text
I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask you, neither should you | Luke Castellan x reader
word count: 1.3k
a/n: felt like writing a meet cute. title lowkey doesn’t make sense but i love hozier so….Athena!coded reader. one-shot (probably). no use of (y/n) or (name) because I prefer not to do that. :)
warnings: not edited, not proofread, written in one sitting / not from chicago 😓 / i haven't written in AGES so...
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The first time you met Luke, you had barely stepped foot into camp.
You were someone whose arrival had no pomp and circumstance, and--much to your protector's relief--whose journey had been relatively smooth-sailing save for one case of a missing train ticket, which had been a minor setback more than anything. Now here you were, protector-less (they had left to meet some council?), alone--despite the multitudes of campers that flocked to and fro around you--and tired.
Chiron had dropped you off in front of the Hermes cabin, and you passed by countless inquisitive eyes as you entered the building. The humidity of the summer gave your face a sheer glow as you, out of your element and more than a little nervous, padded towards the door with your bag in tow.
The moment you reached for the door it flew open (you yelped), expelling a handful of giggling children who were whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves. Upon seeing you, they quieted down, but then like a pot boiling over they resumed their antics and walked away, an sparing an occassional glance at you over their shoulders.
"Sorry about them," A voice cut through the retreating din of the group. You jumped again, whipping around to see a tall boy about your age standing in the doorway. The wind sent the leaves around the cabin rustling as he brushed his hand through his hair, opening the door wider. "Come on in."
You bowed your head, avoiding his gaze, and walked into the cabin, the smell of musk and earth--and plenty of other strange things--wafting through the area as you took in the beds and children running around.
"So, you're the new camper, huh?" You turned back to the boy, who walked past and led you to a vacant bed near a window. You followed, placing your duffel bag down.
"I'm Luke. Luke Castellan." The boy extended his hand to you with a practiced camp counselor smile, curly brown hair highlighted by the sun streaming in through the windows. You introduced yourself to him, soft-spoken yet firm. "I'm the counselor for Cabin 11. You can come to me if you have any problems adjusting to life here. Or if one of these goofballs steals something of yours."
It was his job to make sure his campers were taken care of, that they were comfortable. It was his job to help them settle in.
"It's lovely to meet you, Luke." Your voice was level as you shot him a polite smile, recovered from the whirwind of arriving at the cabin itself. "Thank you for your help."
A silence settled into the gaps of the conversation as you unzipped your tattered duffel bag, reaching inside for the few belongings you'd brought with you. You felt Luke staring at your back and an awkward cough followed. He'd sensed your anxiety.
"So, where are you from?" You gazed back at him timidly, still unsure of anything and anyone around you. He faltered, hoping he hadn't asked a painful question. To his relief, you smiled wistfully.
"I'm from Chicago--Lincoln Park." A picture frame, a little worn, holding a picture of you and your father at a baseball game. The sunlight lit up the photograph as you placed it on the windowsill.
"I've never been." He was straddling the back of a chair now, leaning his chin on his arms, facing you. He continued, voice soft and inviting. "I'd like to one day. What do you like about it?"
You paused packing, settling yourself on the bed as you thought about your hometown.
"The beach--well, the lake--and the White Sox games, obviously. " You hummed, deep in thought and nostalgia, playing with your hands. "My dad and I also used to go to this place, they had the best sundaes, and we'd go every year on my birthday. And then we'd take the train home."
Your smile quickly twisted, going sour as a tear threatened to trail down your cheek, and you quickly caught yourself before it could.
"That sounds fun." He rocked back in the chair, and nodded to the picture you'd put on the window. "Baseball fan huh?"
"Hardly," You chuckled. "I mainly went becuase my dad loved them so much....I'm more of a museum enjoyer."
"Art?"
"I mean yes, but I like science and history ones too. Bones and all." Your lips turned upward slightly at the sight of Luke jumping out of his chair.
"Well you're in the perfect place, given we," he gestured to the cabin around him, leaning on a bedpost. "are partly known for stealing things."
You laughed, a genuine laugh, your sleeve wiping off the the remnants of the tears you'd almost shed. Luke grinned, face beaming. (he'd cheered you up, at least a little).
He straightened up, resuming his camp counselor aura. "Well, I do ha--"
"What about you, Luke Castellan?" You said his name, softly, like you were testing out how it sounded in your mouth. You looked up, hoping he hadn't heard you sniffle, hadn't seen the glistening in your eyes from before.
Maybe it was because you were slightly embarassed that you'd almost cried in front of a guy who you were now beginning to notice was, in fact, very pretty.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm holding you up." Embarrasment, flushing down your body and running through your veins.
"No!" His eyes widened, and he shifted back to face you. "No it's okay, what was your question?"
"Where're you from?" The words tumbled out of your mouth, before you could say what you should've said--a polite 'nothing, thank you'.
He faltered. You'd caught him off guard. Usually newbies didn't ask him about himself--they were too busy asking more questions about the camp itself. You waited, brow raised and eyes gleaming with genuine interest.
"I'm from Connecticut," He watched your eyes light up, familiarity flooding your face. "You been?"
"No but....you ever watch Gilmore Girls?" A soft grin painted your face and you caught your bottom lip between your teeth in excitement. He'd been asked this a few times, but this time he couldn't help but not respond with his usual exasperation, faced with your barely-contained excitement.
"I have." He listened as you spoke, opening up slowly like a flower in bloom. After all, it was his job to make sure his campers were taken care of, that they were comfortable. It was his job to help them settle in.
But maybe he stayed longer than he usually did, maybe he answered your questions about himself because he had a fleeting thought that you were pretty or he liked the way you laughed at his jokes and it was influencing his judgement. Maybe it was how easy it was, the way he fell into conversation easily with you.
Tyche had set your fates spinning.
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rayaverra · 4 months
Text
Love Amidst the Noise // Luke Castellan
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pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
genre: fluff (i guess)
summary: you get a little overexcited while talking, and your friends find it annoying. When Luke finds you sad and quiet, he comforts you.
warning(s): none
wc: 654
notes: this actually happened to me in real life, so shout-out to my best friend for his kind words :')
english is not my first language, so there may be mistakes.
・❥・༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶・❥・
"And we visited this museum when my dad took me on a trip to Boston, and the art there was just amazing! So many different types of paintings... all these vibrant colours that matched... and the amount of detail..." You were sharing your winter experience with your friends, feeling passionate about the art. Now that summer break had started and you were back in camp, you were excited to share all your latest stories, but none of your friends seemed to really care.
"Yeah... yeah... we get it! Your father took you to see some old paintings," one of them said, rolling their eyes, and soon afterwards everyone else joined.
"Yeah, who cares about some old paintings that all look the same anyway?" Another one added, and your smile suddenly faded, feeling sad that they spoke like that about something you cared so much about.
"And you've been talking about it for almost an hour! Don't you let anyone else speak?" And with that, you closed your mouth, feeling unwanted; you didn't say anything for the rest of your friends conversation.
Later that day, you were sitting on your cabin's table earlier than everyone else, not being in much of a mood. You started to wonder if everyone thought the same as your friends. You knew that sometimes you talked too much, but you couldn't control it. Did everyone in camp think you were annoying?
A familiar figure approached you. At first, you didn't turn to see who it was, but soon you realized it was your dear friend from the Hermes cabin, Luke Castellan.
He noticed your unusual silence and your worried expression. "Hey, is everything okay?" He asked gently.
"Fine..." You said, avoiding his gaze. And that, with the fact that you replied without using many words, like you always liked to explain the details, made him curious as to who got you sad. Deep down, he was also slightly angry that someone would hurt his best friend like this.
"Come' on, I know you better than that." He smiled softly, reaching across the table and gently holding your hand. "You can tell me everything, you know."
You hesitate for a bit, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Do you ever find me annoying?" You eventually blurted out, surprising both Luke and yourself.
He furrowed his eyebrows, looking genuinely puzzled. "Annoying? Not at all! Why would you think that?"
You signed, looking into his filled-with-kindness blue eyes, giving him a weak smile. He was so gentle with you that it warmed your heart.
You sighed, finally deciding to share the weight on your shoulders. "My friends, they... They always complain about me talking too much and never let me finish."
Luke's expression shifted from confusion to understanding. "You're not annoying, not to me. I love how you light up when you talk, how your eyes sparkle. Your enthusiasm is one of the things I adore about you."
Your heart warmed upon hearing his comforting words. You realized that you had found someone who appreciated you for who you were.
"Don't let them get to you. You're amazing just the way you are, and anyone who can't see that doesn't deserve your energy." He said, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled, remembering how fun it was when you explained to Luke the history of each painting, and him listening intensively.
"Thank you, Luke." You smiled, moving closer, sniffing a little, and resting your head on his shoulder after giving him a hug.
"Can you tell me about that painting with that couple on a swing again?" Luke asked, and you blushed, nodding your head and starting to tell him about the famous Cot's painting.
In that moment, the weight lifted, and you felt a newfound strength. As you continued your conversation, you found solace in Luke's understanding, grateful to have someone who valued every word you shared.
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repairgirl · 1 year
Text
affectionately yours || fem!reader insert + smau & college au m.list
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summary: in this thrilling sequel to yours truy, everyone in the gang has coincidentally committed to the same 5 colleges in New York, resulting in the most unlikely of pairs being created and leading them to think college with your friends may not be the best idea after all. follow along as the squad faces some of the most difficult situations they’ve ever encountered, including long-distance relationships, frats, sororities, midterms, finals, the college experience, and most importantly: navigating freshman year.
status: ongoing
warnings: once again, live action! cosplayers and real people for my fancast. more cursing, angst, and fluff. mayyybe substance abuse like drinking / drugs as the story goes on (they are in college in new york, after all) and possible hazing
0. introduction
1.decision day
2. move-out eve
3. move-in pt. 1
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slu7formen · 22 days
Text
MDNI. luke x fem!reader
you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.
warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear
reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
₊˚⊹♡
The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.
And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.
Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.
He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.
"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.
You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."
"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.
"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.
"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"
With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.
He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.
The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.
"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.
Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.
With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."
Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.
The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.
"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.
As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.
Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.
But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.
You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.
Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."
“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.
The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.
You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.
"We'll take them" you declared.
The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.
As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.
Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.
"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."
Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.
The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.
A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.
"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.
Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.
The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.
Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.
Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.
One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.
"Hilarious" he remarked.
Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.
The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.
The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.
As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.
Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.
Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.
There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.
He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.
“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."
Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.
"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."
You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.
Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. He mean. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"
You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.
Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."
“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”
There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.
You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."
Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.
Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.
"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"
"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.
The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.
A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.
Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.
Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.
A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.
“Seriously!?”
There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.
You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.
"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.
Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"
His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.
"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."
The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?
You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.
"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."
He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.
A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.
"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.
The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.
A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."
Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.
You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.
"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"
You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."
Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.
A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.
He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.
"Are you a virgin, Luke?"
The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.
"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.
A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.
Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.
His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.
He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.
You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.
"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.
Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.
"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.
Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.
"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.
The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…
"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”
Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?
Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?
But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.
"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. With surprising ease, you began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.
His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.
"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.
Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.
Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.
But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.
Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.
You know, the classic shit.
But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.
So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.
But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.
He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.
You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.
“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.
He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.
You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.
He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.
All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.
He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?
He had to thank the gods for his luck.
“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.
He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”
Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.
“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.
You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.
“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”
Now that was new.
If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.
“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.
“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”
He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.
The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.
The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.
In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.
It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.
Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.
“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”
“What do you think?”
part two <3
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lixzey · 15 days
Note
Bf!Luke Castellan x Filipina child of Aphrodite!reader please? I haven't seen any of Filipina readers so I'm begging on my knees 🥺
In which she misses home terribly and decides to cook some of her fave food (preferably sinigang, adobo, or like something else! you can do some research, if you'd like 🫶🏻)
And she makes Luke try it! But he's so whiny bcs he hasn't even heard of the dish's name.
Anywaaay, I loved lovelorn!!! Waiting for the next update like 👀 Your writing is just so 🤌🏻 chef's kiss!!
late night cravings
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summary: you miss home terribly, so you decide to cook your favorite ulam
warnings: filipina!reader x luke castellan! they're both 19 (set before tlt), they're like on vacation (luke and reader have an apartment in the east village, courtesy of reader’s dad who’s a filipino actor) away from camp duties for a while, swearing (both filipino and english), luke is a picky ass eater, making out, kinda suggestive content
a/n: i got so excited with this 😭 i'm a filipina and an aphrodite kid, so this was so fun to write! I hope you like it!
“What on earth are you cooking?” Luke asks, leaning against the kitchen door frame of the apartment the two of you own. “I woke up to the smell of that.” 
You immediately whip your head around to see your boyfriend, half naked and disheveled from sleep. “Well, hello to you too, sunshine,” You chuckle, blowing strands of your hair away from your face. 
“It's the middle of the night, princess, and you're cooking something that smells like vomit.” Luke grumbles as he makes his way towards you, still bleary eyed as he wraps his arms around your waist. 
“I just missed home,” You giggle, reaching to grab the tongs to flip over the daing na bangus so it doesn’t burn. “Something wrong, baby?”
“Yeah, it smells like shit.” Luke complains, burying his face in your neck. “It’s stinking up the whole place.”
“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” You chuckle, placing the tongs down on a plate, escaping Luke’s grasp and making your way to the kitchen island, leaning against it. “It’s good, I promise.”
Luke stares at the pan. “I am not eating that thing.” He then turns to you, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “Where’s the mac and cheese?”
“It’s just milkfish, dummy.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s refusal to eat anything other than mac and cheese. “Also, you finished the last box of mac hours ago, remember?”
“Ramen?” Luke asks, hopeful that there’s still some left other than the fish that’s stinking up the whole apartment.
When you shook your head, literal fear crept onto his handsome face. “Anything else?” He asks, his voice cracking like a teenaged boy going through puberty for the first time, making you burst into a fit of giggles.
“There’s nothing left, you’ve finished everything.” You say through fits of laughter at your boyfriend’s food crisis. “Guess you’ll have to deal with the food I’m gonna cook.”
Luke’s eyes comically widen, like one of those cartoon characters you’ve watched when you were a kid. “There’s more?”
“Yeah,” You nod, jerking your head to the refrigerator littered with lots of printed photos of the dates you and Luke went on over the years you’ve been together. “I marinated some pork for adobo.”
“Ado-what?”
“Adobo, it’s a Filipino staple.” You answer with a chuckle. “It’s pork marinated in vinegar, soy sauce, and some garlic. I added some peppercorns too. My lola used to cook it for me when I was a kid.”
Luke makes his way to you, his large hands creeping onto your waist, lifting you up onto the counter. “As much as you love it, princess, I’m not eating any of it.”
“And why not?” You scoff, raising a brow at him.
“I don’t like it, that’s why.” Luke insists, kissing your forehead. “I’m gonna go and get some real food.”
You sigh, annoyed by your boyfriend’s pickiness in food. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s been choosing what he eats like a child. It was always mac and cheese, chicken, pizza, and burgers. It was a struggle to feed him, honestly. Since he won’t eat anything apart from what he’s used to. Luke was lucky that the dryads serve mac almost with every meal—which is mostly for the kids or a side dish. You’ve tried to incorporate vegetables in his meals but somehow he always notices. It was infuriating, to the point that you just wanted to shove a broccoli floret down his throat.
All of a sudden, the smell of burning infiltrates your sense of smell, triggering the fire alarms simultaneously.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You frantically mutter, jumping off the kitchen island and running to the burning bangus on the stove. You grab the pan, forgetting it was on the fire for minutes on end. “Putangina!” You swear, abruptly pulling your hand off the pan’s handle.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, here,” Luke grabs the pan with oven mitts, placing it on the counter.
You sigh as you stare at the burnt fish, hearing the pan hiss against the cold surface.
Luke, being the best boyfriend that he is, pulls you in a tight hug, his body heat engulfing you. “It’s okay, princess. It was an accident.”
“I’ve been craving that,” You mumble against his chest. “Stupid fire.”
“You still have the first one you cooked,” Luke points out. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”
You raise your head, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.” you mumble, lower lip out in a pout.
“Don’t be sad over a burnt fish, alright?”
You glare at him, pinching his side. “It was a tasty fish.”
“Geez, princess,” Luke scowls playfully. “A fish is more important than me?”
“Shut up,” You hiss, rolling your eyes. “I paid five bucks for that.”
Luke raises a brow at you. “When did you even get time to get them?”
“You sleep like a lamb, baby,” You chuckle, turning to walk to the refrigerator. “I went to a Filipino store.”
“There’s one in New York?” Luke asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you said there weren’t any?”
“That was years ago, dummy.” You snort, grabbing the refrigerator handle, opening it. “Anyway, look what I got.”
An array of Filipino snacks filled the middle shelf of the fridge. You had gone all out. It wasn’t often that you splurge on food, but when a craving hits, it hits.
There were some Choco Mallows—chocolate covered marshmallows—your favorite treat as a child that your lola always bought for you. A jar of ube macapuno that you hated as a child but learned to love just recently. Some dried mangoes, pastillas, a jar of wafer sticks—stik o—a slice of brazo de mercedes, and many more.
“How the hell are you even gonna finish all of that?”
You shake your head, smirking. “You and I are gonna eat each and every item that I bought.”
Luke scowls, folding his toned arms over his chest. “I don’t want to.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Castellan,” You say, placing your hands on your hips. “You are going to eat whatever I serve you.”
Luke pouts, pairing it off with puppy dog eyes. “Please?”
“Nope.”
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“That smells like vomit,” Luke complains as you seared the marinated pork for adobo. “And it looks like it too!”
“Quit it,” You say with a murderous glare. “Don’t yap at it until you’ve tasted it.”
“I think I’m going to puke all my guts out,” Luke gags, making his way to the sink.
“For the love of the gods,” You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his childishness. It was just food, and he’s whining about it like there’s no tomorrow.
You turn your attention away from your picky eater of a boyfriend and back to the pan with the pork searing brown nicely. You then grab the remaining liquid from the marinade—which was not much, which it would have to do—pouring it in, causing the pan to hiss at the difference in temperature. You turn the stove down to medium high heat, before leaving it to simmer.
Much to Luke’s misery.
“You aren’t covering it?” Luke asks incredulously. “It’s smelling the place worse than the fish did!”
“Don’t be such a drama queen, Luke.” You sigh, grabbing a pouch of dried mangoes before taking a seat on one of the bar stools over the kitchen island. “It’s gonna taste good, I promise.”
“Ugh,” Luke wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gag me.”
“Nah, you’d like it too much.” You giggle, popping a slice of dried mango in your mouth.
Luke scoffs playfully. “Damn right I will, princess.”
“Then stop whining,”
“You love me,” Luke grins as he walks towards you, capturing your lips in his, his hand cupping your face.
You hum as your lips mold with his, your shoulders relaxing as he kisses you.
You pull away from the kiss, pushing him slightly. “You’re distracting me, Castellan,” you sigh dreamily, a soft blush covering your cheeks as your boyfriend looks at you like you’re the only thing in this world.
Luke leans in, his lips brushing against your lips as he trails towards your ear. “Is it working?” he whispers, his breath hot on your skin.
“Luke,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest. “Stop, I don’t want to burn the adobo.”
Luke chuckles, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair. “Alright, but later?”
You roll your eyes playfully. “If you promise to taste the adobo and bangus,” You smirk at him, pushing him slightly away from your body as you stand up. “Maybe I’ll let it happen, you know? On this counter.”
“Do I really have to?”
“If you want to bend me over this counter, yes.”
Luke sighs as he reluctantly nods. “Fine, I’ll taste them.”
“That’s a good boy,” You coo, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Go and sit,” you jerk your head towards the bar stool you just stood up from. “It’ll be ready in a few.”
Luke obliges, sitting on the stool with his arms crossed over the other. He grins at you, a mischievous look you know oh so well in his beautiful browns. 
Luke was teasing you, the little shit.
You chuckle, shaking your head, before turning to make your way to the stove, swaying your hips as you did—earning a small grunt from Luke behind you.
As you check up on the adobo, you see that almost half of the liquids have evaporated, leaving you with a slightly oily adobo—just the way you liked it. You turned down the heat, grabbing a fork from the silverware drawer to check if the pork was tender.
You poke the fork through the meat effortlessly, making you smile. The perfect adobo.
You quickly grab a plate and load it up with the delicious ulam you’ve grown up with, hoping Luke would appreciate it as much as you did.
“Here it is,” You excitedly announce, serving the adobo with a spoon and fork in front of him with a proud smile etched on your lips. “It’s better with rice, but it’s good on its own too.”
Luke stares at the meat in front of him, as if the adobo was going to attack him if he wasn’t vigilant enough. “Is it supposed to look like that?”
You raise a brow at him. “Like what?”
“Like it’s burnt,”
You sigh, taking a seat beside him. “It’s supposed to look like that, but it isn’t burnt. It’s because of the searing, plus the soy sauce the pork has already absorbed.” You grab the utensils, shoveling a healthy amount of meat and sauce on the spoon using the fork. “Open wide, baby!”
Luke shook his head. “I think I’m okay.”
“Luke,” You growl, raising the adobo filled spoon up to his mouth. “Open your fucking mouth before I shove this spoon down your throat forcibly.”
Luke raises his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, geez,” he chuckles, opening his mouth up. “Be gentle with me, princess.”
You glare at him before pushing the spoon inside of his mouth. “If you spit that out, you’re sleeping on the damn floor.”
Luke chews the contents of his mouth, his eyes widening. “Fuck, this is good!” He grins as he pulls the plate in front of him and immediately takes another spoonful. “Mhmm, that hits the spot!” Luke says through a mouth full of the savory pork dish you cooked. 
“Good, baby?” You giggle, reaching to grab the fork from him to get a bite of your masterpiece. “Don’t finish it all, save some for me!”
“Losers, weepeers, baby,” Luke mumbles through bites. “You sure you didn’t use any love magic on this?”
You recoil, slapping his arm playfully. “I did not use gayuma, Castellan.” 
“Gayuma?”
“It’s love magic, in Filipino,” You answer, taking another bite of your food. “I have got to teach you more Filipino words.” 
“I’m in love with this—what is it called again?”
“Adobo,” You laugh, taking a bite of the said ulam. “Pork adobo.”
“Pork adobo, I love you!” Luke grins, like it’s the first time he’s ever tried food in eons.
You smile lovingly at your boy, looking all so happy and content. You could spend eternities just staring at him. Seeing Luke happy made you feel complete, like you’ve fulfilled a quest greater than anything the gods could dish out.
You could see a future with the man in front of you. You’ve honestly got nothing figured out, but Luke? He was the only thing you’ve got right in your life. You could see him, being the man you’d marry and spend the rest of your life with. You could see him being the father of your children, a little Luke and a little version of you, running around the front yard while you and Luke watch on the front porch with a multitude of toys sprawled around.
You fell in love with a careless god’s careful son, and he is the best thing that’s ever been yours.
“Princess,” You hear Luke call out to you, snapping you out of your daydreams. You look up, meeting his loving gaze, making your cheeks burn. Gods, it’s not fair of him to make me feel this much. 
“Yeah?” You hum, moving your chair closer to him, smiling as you did. “What is it?”
Luke cups your face in his large hands, pulling you in close, barely an inch apart. “I love you.” 
Your heart beats rapidly inside your rib cage, wondering how on earth does he manage to still make you feel like that giddy teenager who fell in love with him years ago. 
You stare in his eyes for what felt like eons. You could feel Luke’s breath hot on your lips, begging you to seal it inside of him with a kiss.
You let out a shaky breath, a small smile curling onto your lips. “I love you too, baby.” you whisper, before closing in the distance between the two of you.
Luke’s hands make their way down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap, making you gasp. He takes advantage of your lips parting, sliding his tongue in, eager to taste you—even though he’s done it more times than he could count.
His lips were soft, like a cloud grazing yours. He tasted sweet, like cotton candy, but with a hint of smoke and citrus playing at your taste buds. You should have been used to it by now, being in a relationship with Luke for almost three years and all. But his touch numbs you. His touch is like being dipped into the cold ocean, pulling you in—drowning you, until he’s bruised into your mind. 
Your hands creep around the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss—if it was even possible given the state of your tongues clashing with one another, fighting to assert dominance. You bite Luke’s lower lip, causing a groan to escape his mouth. You feel this familiar heat pool inside your belly, along with something hard poking your ass.
You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen as you catch your breath. Before you could utter a word, Luke lifts you up on the counter, making you erupt in a fit of giggles. He then presses his forehead against yours, you could hear his slow breaths as your noses bump into each other. 
“So, you lettin’ it happen, huh, princess?”
“You didn’t try the other one,” You feign annoyance, unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.
“Can’t make an exception for me, princess?” Luke smirks, his fingers delicately brushing against your arms.
“I think I can squeeze you in,” You chuckle, pulling away from him with a teasing grin. “You good with that, mister?”
“I’ll take anything as long as it’s with you.” Luke grabs your waist, pulling you back close to him. “Gods, you are so beautiful.” he whispers, his hand cupping your face.
“I love you,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest, on the place where his heart rests. “More than anything.”
“You are the best thing in my life.” Luke sighs before leaning in to kiss you again like his life depended on it, wrapping his arms around you like a vice. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging on his curls as if he was your lifeline.
Luke’s hands fumble with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, momentarily breaking the kiss. He quickly reaches behind, unclasping your bra in one swift movement, tearing the offending fabric off of your breasts.
Luke takes his time to admire your body, as if it was the very first time he’d even seen your breasts out on full display for him, just for him. His cock strained painfully inside of his shorts and boxers, causing a groan to escape his throat. “You see what you do to me, princess?”
You look at him with innocence in your eyes, which at the same time looks sultry and inviting, driving him crazy every time you do. “Who, me?”
“Aren’t you just a little vixen?”
“So, to the room?”
Luke shakes his head, moving towards you, his hands just below your breasts as he smirks. “Here, over the fucking counter.”
tags: @lilmaymayy @ma1dita @sc4rl3ttdafoxx @hottiewifeyyyy
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sayoneee · 3 months
Text
☆ I WANNA BE YOUR MAN
“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” (1.7k)
contains: loser older brother luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. pt 2 of parent trap but can be read standalone ish. guest appearances! rock / metal music references.
kashaf’s note: i think i can call myself a melomaniac now
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LUKE CASTELLAN HAS always occupied that in-between space, the no-man’s-land between something and nothing — his indecipherable gaze as his cold, black, and blued knuckles grazed your cheek when he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear swims around your mind endlessly. despite how each thought, each expression, each breath is as familiar to you as your own, you have never quite known where you stand with him, regardless of how quickly he seemed to inhabit a piece of your soul.
the familiar weight of the mixtape that luke made you feels unusually burdensome in your hands, mirroring the heft of the songs on it that you have painstakingly committed to memory, each sleepless night’s offerings of tossing and turning becoming a reoccurring ritual. 
you had popped the tape in your walkman immediately after luke had handed it to you, incognizant of the way his eyes softened as you concentrated on the music, trying to identify the first song. 
“this is that band you like — l.a. guns, right?”
“you’re a regular sherlock,” luke had said, smiling and sarcastic, twisting his silver rings.
“shut up, no i know this song,” you say, tilting your head and snapping your fingers. “its — um — i wanna be yours? nono, don’t make that face at me, asshole, hold on… i wanna be your man?”
hues of pink crept up his cheeks, and you basked in the warmth of his answering crooked grin, the feeling wrapping around you like the caress of a summer night. 
you uselessly stirred the spoon in your now stone-cold cup of chai, leaning across the kitchen table with your head propped up in your other hand. the phone taunts you from its corner on the counter, sitting just by the clear jar of blue cookies, its black hue a beacon among the sea of greens (the cabinets, the tiles — you liked to tell sally that she should try her hand at interior design one of these days) — as of late, the jacksons’ kitchen has become somewhat of a refuge for you. 
you set a steaming china cup down in front of him, listening to the sounds of percy, annabeth, and grover in the living room, pulling out the chair in front of him with a slight creak on the slightly worn wooden floors, and watching him as he taps his fingers along to bob marley’s soft crooning, “little darlin’, stir it up”, lost in his own world.  
“luke,” you say, breaking him out of his revelry.
luke sits up straight, meeting your amused gaze, “yeah?” he asks, reaching for his chai, and mumbling a quiet thanks as he sips it.
“you look kinda stupid when you think,” you say, watching him blink before taking the bait, and hiding your smile of satisfaction behind your cup.
“y’know, this is why you have a black hole for a heart,” he says, grinning crookedly, filling you with an indescribable longing to reach out and trace his grin. 
“what?” you laugh, “what does that even mean?”
“just that you’re mean,” luke says, and the afternoon sun chooses that specific moment to encompass him in its glow, like a kiss from apollo. “and that you’re emo.”
“you literally say this every time, oh my god, i’m not mean or emo.”
“because i’m literally right?”
“you like him,” annabeth says, sympathetically, standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, her braids resting across her shoulders, glancing from your untouched cup to your face, an expression of pity gracing her features. her presence caught you so off guard that you don’t even question where percy ran off to, who was usually attached to annabeth like a conjoined twin. 
“i know,” you say, shivering slightly, the revelation feeling strangely empty, although you suppose the same part of your soul that recognized him had always known, a small inkling reappearing with every argument, and every nudge. 
“he likes you,” annabeth adds matter-of-factly, interrupting your stream of consciousness. 
“i know,” you repeat, picking at the lint on your sweater, and while this revelation is supposed to be shocking, it is also hollow, as you suppose your soul also knew this with every hushed conversation in the dead of night, and the slips of silence that only spoke volumes around him.
“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” she turned and stalked back toward the living room.
you sat still for a minute or so, before sighing and putting luke’s mixtape (even in your misery, he is somehow always there) in your walkman, putting your headphones on as axl rose trilled, ‘i said, baby you been lookin' real good’ in his voice that took a while to get used to — something luke gave you a heads up on.
you sighed, conceding to annabeth’s attempts to rewrite whatever fate had pushed the two of you apart, from the hours-long phone calls that dwindled into short, clipped conversations, you can’t necessarily blame annabeth for trying to fashion a phoenix from the ashes of your friendship. 
you stood up, grabbed your jacket off the back of the chair you were sitting upon, and walked into the living room, pausing for a few minutes to watch the scooby doo episode on the screen along with percy, grover, and annabeth, who were currently sprawled across the softly carpeted floor, arguing over monopoly.
“you’re literally cheating,” percy was saying.
“i’m the banker, i’m supposed to be innocent,” annabeth argued back.
“percy, i saw you steal a couple dollars behind annabeth’s back,” grover added, rolling the dice.
“guys,” you said, interrupting their three-way argument, “put on your jackets and shoes, we’re going to the fair in five minutes.”
you ignored the way the troublesome trio exchanged glances, walking through the hallway covered in framed photos of percy and sally, going to wait by the door for them.
“so,” percy says, all-too-innocently, “why the sudden change of plans?” once the four of you are a couple of blocks away from his apartment.
“no reason, just wanted to see what was so hot about the fair,” you say, digging your hands in the pockets of your jacket. once more, you ignore the glances the trio exchange. 
“so it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain curly-haired individual that we’re currently seeing less and less of?”
you keep walking, trying to feign ignorance, although the question was so pointed even you were concerned with percy’s audacity, “what’re you talking about?”
“oh, nothing,” percy smiles. “just the way —”
“— the two of you —”
“— were inseparable —”
“— for a disgustingly long time —”
“— and now you’re not —”
“— but we’re going to the fair because —”
“— his band is playing —”
“— and you’re going to try and fix —”
“— your troubles in paradise.”
you blinked slowly, as the three of them did jazz hands, matching shit-eating grins on all of their faces, “how long did it take for you guys to rehearse that?”
“a week, give or take,” grover says, and annabeth shoots him a glare.
“not the point, the point is, we support you.”
“gee, thanks, all i really needed was the support of three twelve-year-olds.”
“three twelve-year-olds that know you’re stupidly in love with luke castellan,” percy points out.
“okay, y’know what…” you trail off, frowning.
annabeth nudged percy, “not the point here, again.”
“fine, fine, fine,” you huff, as the four of you approach the brightly illuminated fair, looking for the ticket-selling booth, “i’ll buy you guys tickets so you can go hang out on the rides and i’ll go to the concert.”
the three of them nodded happily, making a beeline for the cotton candy stand a few feet away. you shook your head before pushing through the bustling crowd to look for the concert stage. when you finally do find it, after three excuse me’s and four sorry’s, the concert is already in full swing, with what looks like a mini moshpit already forming somewhere near the center.
once you’ve pushed your way to the absolute front, the darkening night sky serving as a backdrop, the harsh lights illuminate all five individuals on the stage, with a gorgeous girl with shaggily-cut hair and a raspy voice singing as lead (thalia? you think you remember luke telling you on the phone late at night once). however, your gaze almost immediately fixed on luke, who was playing a riff on his electric guitar, looking as hot as ever, his crooked grin on full display.
the band is covering l.a. guns’ ‘i wanna be your man’ at the moment, and you’re suddenly very grateful to annabeth for her unsubtle nudges, because you would’ve missed out on this sight of luke castellan, the view of his muscled arms bulging out of his band tee is permanently seared into your memory.
you’re almost sad when the show is over though, finally realizing why luke liked concerts so much, from the crowd surfing to the drumstick tricks during solos (beckendorf, you think the drummer’s name was — luke had mentioned him before) to the lead’s insane vocals, to the girl with long curly hair that stood next to you for most of the concert (probably the band’s most enthusiastic fan), you savored every minute of it. however, you’re glad for the chance to corner luke afterwards, climbing onto the stage as the crowd begins to disperse in waves, and realizing the curly-haired girl was already among the band members packing up their instruments, helping the curly-haired bassist pack his things. 
luke barely looks up at your sudden arrival. “what’re you doing here?” he asks, packing away his guitar.
“i’m here to see you,” you say, trying to drive the hint home.
“i told you that you didn’t have to come see the band if you were busy,” luke says, uncomprehendingly, making eye-contact with you. 
“i like you,” you say insistently.
“c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves right now, you said we’re friends so you don’t have to try to make me feel better,” luke says, shrugging and looking away from your face, rubbing the back of his neck.
“i listen to your dumb mixtape every night, luke castellan. does a person who’s not into you do that?”
there is something so raw about the way he looks right now, with his expression stilling as his cheeks are colored in swathes of red. 
smiling at his dumbstruck expression, you surged forward to kiss him, ignoring all the wolf whistles and “get some, castellan” enveloping the two of you, tangling your fingers into his hair, his hands coming to rest upon your hips.
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wlntrsldler · 2 months
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ii. and i never saw you coming, and i'll never be the same. | luke castellan | state of grace
sixteen-year-old luke castellan has his first kiss with you, the girl he'd been hopelessly crushing on for the last two years.
athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)
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sixteen-year-old luke castellan was shooting daggers at annabeth right now while she playfully approached you, pretending to expose his crush on you. 
“beth!” he hissed, making a ‘cut-it-out’ motion with his hands. chris chuckled softly from beside him, too entertained by the situation unfolding. luke jabbed his elbow into chris’ rib, unable to handle two of his so-called friends laughing at his demise. “annabeth, please don’t!” 
that caught your attention. you turned around to see annabeth, a sheepish smile on her face as she awkwardly waved at you. you cocked an eyebrow before tilting your head to see luke, half-standing from the bench with a frozen expression on his face. chris was doubled over in laughter, nearly falling off his seat. 
“come with me,” you placed both hands on beth’s shoulders, letting her lead you to the two hermes boys. you stood in front of them, removing your hands from beth and crossing them over your chest. you playfully pointed between the three of them, “care to tell me what this is about?” 
“i think luke should tell you,” chris shrugged, making eye contact with annabeth. the two of them erupted in giggles and luke wanted the ground to swallow him whole. if it wasn’t for his friends’ actions, he’s sure it would’ve been the redness on his cheeks that gave it away. 
“well, go on, head counselor,” you bit your bottom lip, finding his blushing face completely adorable. 
you and luke got closer over the past two years since he got to camp. he was always around the athena cabin, at first because he wanted to be close to annabeth, but everyone knew that it slowly morphed into wanting to see you and hang out with you more. because he was always with you, the campers got to know him fairly quickly. luke was right– everyone did love you, and by association, the campers liked him too, or at least, tolerated him. 
you were known to be the nicest head counselor, even before you took the position from oliver, known as the best archer in camp’s history, and the wisest daughter of athena. the more luke hung out with you and got to know you, the more his feelings for you developed.
in his defense, it was hard not to fall for you. he’d never met anyone as funny as you. every time he returns to the hermes cabin from being with you, his stomach hurts from laughing so much. you seemed to finish each other’s sentences so the punchlines of the jokes die on the tip of your tongues, but you’re both out of breath from laughing that not finishing the joke didn’t even matter. 
you took care of everyone at camp, even if they weren’t your own siblings. he’d seen you bandage travis and connor stoll up one too many times and let them go instead of writing them up for one of their pranks. the boys would return to the hermes cabin, heads hanging low, with a look of short-lived apologies on their faces when luke asked them about why they had bandages on their forearms. luke pretended not to notice the knowing smiles the two troublemakers shared whenever he would say, you’re lucky counselor y/n was there. 
you were fearless. you were often chosen to be a companion for quests because everyone knew you were the best. you never denied them and it got to the point where chiron and mr. d had to make a public service announcement that you were no longer allowed to go on quests unless it was your own because camp fell apart during the weeks you were away. the first time luke prayed to the gods, to his father, was when you returned from a particularly difficult quest with clarisse and you were in the infirmary for three days.
but above all that, you made luke a better person. you inspired him to always find kindness in everything. you cared so much about your siblings and the campers and it made him open himself up to care for his own siblings. he and chris were inseparable now and luke knew he probably wouldn’t have been ready to get close to other people if it weren’t for you. you pushed him to work on his sword work, helped him understand strategies, and taught him everything about camp. eventually, people took note of him and he became the hermes head counselor not too long after. 
in between all of these things were luke’s favorite moments; like the calm minutes after hours-long training sessions, where you reveal something new about yourself. you’d go on and on about a random story that goes off into at least ten tangential stories, but luke didn’t care. he’d gladly lay on his stomach, letting the rays of the sun beat down on his back until his skin turned red and hot to the touch, to hear you talk. you’d roll over on your back or prop your chin on your open palm and ask him questions about himself. and luke would tell you things he’d never told anyone before. luke treasures these moments in his mind– small, happy memories, like a step-by-step guide on how to fall in love. 
“they were just going to pull a prank,” he lied, ignoring the ‘thumbs-down’ motion annabeth sent his way and the ‘womp womp’ that chris let slip past his lips. “told them to quit it.” 
“tsk, tsk,” you tutted, but there was no anger on your face, only fondness. you looked at annabeth, “i expected better from the daughter of athena, but you’re too much like your brother.” 
“oh, ew, don’t say that,” annabeth shook her head, walking away as luke raised his hands in defense. chris pat luke on the back, following annabeth back to camp to join everyone else. 
“i am offended that she is in her, ‘i hate my brother phase,” luke scoffed, shaking his head. he moved over to let you sit on chris’ previous seat. “i’m not that bad to warrant an ‘ew.’”
“she loves you,” you nudged him, letting your shoulder stay connected to his. “she’s exactly like you, even if she doesn’t admit it.” 
“she’s got the good parts of me,” he replied, looking down at where his shoulder was touching yours. his hand slowly crept to yours, trying not to be super awkward about it. 
he’d held hands with you before, when you’d mindlessly lace your fingers together underneath the table while you were talking to someone, wanting to feel him there, making sure that he was next to you or when you’d hold his hand during moments where he’d get so frustrated with the gods that you had to calm him down. but he always got nervous initiating it.
over the years, he’d grown to be strong and unafraid, but when it came to you, his resolve crumbled. with you, he was just a teenage boy with a crush.
“so, she’s got all of you,” you said, noticing his hand moving closer. you put a hand over his, flipping it over so you could properly hold it. you squeezed his hand making him rub his thumb across the back of yours.
“not all of me,” he turned his head to look at you, “i see parts of you in her, too.” 
“you mean our mom.”
“no, i don’t,” luke replied, sincerity in his eyes. “i mean you.” 
sure, annabeth was brilliant like the daughter of athena should be. she was always six steps ahead of everyone else and she quickly became your right-hand woman when coming up with strategies for capture the flag. there was no doubt that annabeth was a daughter of athena.
but there were so many parts of you, the person she looked up to the most, in her as well. annabeth was more patient than luke. she can explain things to younger campers, and sometimes older ones, a hundred times without getting frustrated that they weren’t grasping the concept. luke had to walk away so many times when he got frustrated. you’re such a hot head, luke, you said to him once, a teasing smile on your face as you ran your hands down his back to help him relax. beth also grew to read people well. she can hear the unspoken words in conversations and know exactly what someone needs, a heightened sense of emotional intelligence that luke knew she couldn’t have learned from anyone else but you.
there were other, simpler, things too; like how annabeth doesn’t tie her shoes too tightly, unless she was training or competing, so she can slip her shoes on and off easily, or how she tucks her camp necklace under her shirt just like you. 
the look in luke’s eyes was intense. you had to look away before you lost your senses and connected your lips with his. he does this often, say things so nonchalantly like it didn’t make your breath catch in your throat. he says these words with such clarity, like the only things he’d ever been sure of in his life were the things he says about you or to you. it made your head spin. 
“so,” you changed the subject, untangling your hands from each other to turn your entire body to face him. you poked his cheek with your index finger, “you gonna tell me the truth about what that was?” 
“what’s that?” he asked, dumbly, trying to act like chris and beth didn’t just leave you alone with him. he pretended to think, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “dunno what you’re talking about?” 
you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. you felt him wrap an arm around your torso, his chest rumbling as he laughed at your reaction. you looked up at him, temple pressed against his shoulder blade, “c’mon, luke,” 
“no,” he shook his head, face turning red again, “it’s humiliating.” 
“if i tell you a secret, can you tell me yours?” you whispered. luke shivered at the feeling of your breath hitting his skin. he felt the goosebumps rising on his arms that he had wrapped around you. you pulled your head away from him, creating more distance, “how does that sound?” 
“no promises,” he replied, eyes darting to your lips for a brief second. he cleared his throat, “if your secret is a good one, then maybe i’ll consider it.” 
“oh it’s a good one,” you said, mischief in your eyes. there were only a handful of moments where you let go of your head counselor persona, where you’d join the hermes cabin in wreaking havoc on camp.
his sixteenth birthday came to mind. you arranged for a surprise birthday party for him. he woke up to an empty cabin, which was rare, and camp was deserted when he left to grab breakfast. when he got to the dining hall, all the food prepared were his favorites and there was a messily painted banner hanging across the walls, courtesy of the art skills of the younger campers you taught during arts and crafts the day before. 
the food wasn’t nutritional at all and mr. d made it clear that it would never happen again. i don’t know what i was thinking saying yes to an all-day sugar rush, he muttered after the third instance of young kids breaking their arms from attempting to climb up on their cabin roofs. maybe twinkies and salt and vinegar potato chips were not the healthiest breakfast foods, but luke thought it was perfect.
he received his present from you after, a messenger bag for the son of the god of messengers and a compass that always pointed him back to the athena cabin. so you always find your way home, you reasoned. 
luke knew he didn’t need a compass to bring him back to you. his dad gave him the ability to always find his way back home and he was glad you knew that to him, home was wherever you were. on his sixteenth birthday, with you under his arm and the compass safely tucked inside his pocket, for the first time, he was thankful to be his father’s son. 
that look of mischief in your eye always meant that you had something up your sleeve and luke didn’t know if he should be excited or scared. luke pressed, “tell me, then.” 
“i have a crush on this boy,” you scrunched your face up, cheeks dusted with the lightest shade of pink.
he pursed his lips, heart dropping. he knew this time would come. he was thankful that he was spared from the boy talk that you engaged in with your other friends. he often heard you and silena squealing about some guy one of you liked and he was glad that you had other friends to talk to about it because he couldn’t handle you gush over another guy when he felt this deeply about you. 
“it’s the new aphrodite kid, isn’t it?” luke asked, pulling away from you. “everyone is in love with him. even clarisse said he was cute! i personally don’t see it.” 
you rolled your eyes, “luke, come on.” 
“what?” he asked, “i’m pretty sure he’s not even a natural blond.” 
you didn’t know if luke was playing dumb or if he genuinely didn’t realize that you were talking about him. you’d been blatantly obvious about how you felt about him, at least you thought you had been. you were always sitting beside him, choosing him to be your partner for head counselor activities, spent every free moment you had with him, and you were touchy with him, more than you were with anyone else at camp. at this point, all that was left to do was to spell it out for him. 
you laughed, throwing your head back in laughter, “it’s not jack.” 
“who then?” 
“nope,” you said, shaking your head. “you gotta tell me your secret now because i told you mine.” 
“that was like half a secret, angel!” 
“okay so tell me half of your secret!” 
“fine,” he relented, “i have a crush, too.” 
your eyes widened, heart beating a million miles an hour. you knew how he felt about you, but you'd just been waiting for him to say something. “now, you have to tell me!” 
“you first!” luke laughed, reaching out to grab you when you got up. you slipped past his fingers, walking away. “come back!” 
your laughter filled his ears as you stood behind him. you wrapped your arms around him, propping your chin on his shoulder. luke nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a content sigh. he tilted his head to the side, his lips ghosting over the skin of your arm. 
you stayed like that for a few beats until he broke the silence. he should be upset right now because you liked a boy and wouldn’t tell him who it was, but it was hard to be mad when you were holding him like this. he looked up at you, a boyish grin on his face, eyes half open, “you gonna tell me?” 
“it’s obvious,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. he purred under your touch, grabbing a hold of your arms to stop you from leaving his side. you weren’t planning to. “come on, luke. use that pretty little head of yours.” 
luke tucked his face into the crease of your elbow, hiding his blush. he racked his brain for anyone else who you could have a crush on, but his mind ended up blank. when he thought of who on this earth could deserve you, he came up with no names. there was nobody who was good enough for you. 
he changed his strategy. who did you hang out with at camp? he tried to think of the people he saw you with. he’s seen you with the boy from the apollo cabin a few times but that was usually only when one of your siblings got injured. maybe the boy from the hephaestus cabin? the one who made his sword? no, you only talked to him on luke’s behalf that one time when you noticed he needed a new sword because he broke it during a particularly intense training session with you. he frowned. the only guy you actually hung out with at camp was him. and that couldn’t possibly be… unless? 
luke’s head snapped up, “do you like me?” 
“do you like me, he says,” you mimicked, “took ya long enough.” 
you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before running away from him, giggling and blushing like a school girl. luke couldn’t react quick enough to stop you from leaving, too dazed at your rushed confession. when he snapped back to his senses, he jumped from his seat, using all his strength to chase after you. he was thankful for his growth spurt because he caught up to you before you entered the main area of camp. 
he wrapped his arms around your hips, twirling you around, ignoring your sounds of protests. he stared at you as you beat on his chest, hair in disarray from the wind. his lips were in a full-blown grin, head spinning with thoughts of you. you. you. you. you were all he could think about. 
he finally put you down but left his hands on your hips as you tried to fix your messy hair. he liked you like this, soft and shy. it was a part of you that felt like was reserved for him. usually, you took on this authoritative, caretaker role, always having the weight of responsibility resting on your back, but with him, in these secret moments, you were delicate. luke wanted to protect you from everything, not because he thought you needed his protection, but because he felt like he’d finally found his purpose in this life-- to be with you. it was still caused by the hands of fate but away from the meddling of the gods.
“you like me,” he teased, pinching the skin of your hips. 
“don’t get cocky,” you replied, smacking his chest. 
luke hummed, leaning closer, “i like you too.”
“i know,” you whispered, inching closer to him. “just wanted you to confess first.” 
“c’mon angel, cut me some slack,” he blushed, eyes darting to your lips. he ran his tongue across his lips, “didn’t think i had a shot with you.” 
“you need to start giving yourself more credit, luke,” you reached over to cradle his face in your palm. your eyes traced over his features, mesmerized by the pools of honey in his eyes, the pink of his plump lips, “you’re the best person i know.” 
“all ‘cause of you,” there were those words again. there was no room for argument when luke spoke about you. he was sure of it, too sure of you.
“are you gonna kiss me or am i gonna have to make all the moves in this relationship?” 
luke rolled his eyes, “shut up.” 
he placed his lips on yours, unable to stop himself from smiling as you kissed back. he pushed you towards him, wanting to feel you closer. the kiss was short because you were both breathless and grinning. it was messy and uncoordinated with it both being your first kisses. when he pulled his lips away from yours, he placed kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, his curls tickling your skin. 
eventually, he stopped in a fit of giggles, lips puffy and pink. there was a dazed look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. he let go of your hips but threaded your fingers together as you walked into camp, burying his face into your hair when he heard chris and beth hollering in support when they saw your intertwined hands and disheveled demeanors. 
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lilislegacy · 2 months
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annabeth never having a real mother figure when she was young, but sally jackson holding her hand and smiling at her encouragingly while taking her to the doctor to go on birth control for the first time.
and that’s all i have to say.
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