#did he come to camp for her birthday

[hermemescabin]

Did Percy see Annabeth on her 16th birthday I NEED TO KNOW

[celesterayel]

something out of my dreams | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x dionysus!reader

request: could you possibly write a luke x daughter of dionysus please? maybe she’s like super nice and when percy gets to camp she becomes like an older sister and luke is super whipped for her? @elz-zalarrr

IN WHICH — all he knows is that you were something out of his dreams.

"trust him like a brother, yeah, you know i did one thing right. starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night" - t.s.

w.c. 1.8k

warning(s) : cheesiness ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note okay i've begun to realize that low-key i feel like i write in cursive if that makes sense? if a feeling could describe it i'd say its like using poetry to write? that's likely not any better lol :)

there was but one person that everyone could agree they adored at camp half blood.

it didn't matter what grudge who had with whom or what ancient rivalries transcended the ideals of reality, everyone loved you. not the typical type of brittle love that crumbled at the slightest of touches, but pure adoration that endured the sands of time.

you with the gentle soul, who healed others with each laugh and smile. when new half-godlings were brought to camp, you made sure to comfort them and make them understand that they belonged here and would find a home whether they wanted to or not. you made sure that no birthday was forgotten, no deed undone.

children of minor gods or elders, of Ares or Aphrodite, you became an older sister to all who needed you. you, the daughter of fertility and chaos, the god dionysius.

there was no debate that at camp half blood there was only a before you and an after you. you were like that high right before the free fall–invincibility and smoke and curiosity wrapped into the form of a demi-god. you were the gentle breeze during summer nights when the heat became too much. and none ached more to feel it than luke castellan, who had been burning for as long as he knew.

your relationship in itself was tentative, you danced around your feelings–scared one wrong touch or word would break the shaky, fine line that lay between you two. but you could not hide the way you loved the other to yourselves nor the children of the beings of divine blood. 

luke castellan loved you like the stars would fall out of the sky with one harsh touch, free and incandescently self-destructive. like you were a wild, wonderful thing out of a fantasy.

you loved him like there was no hell or heaven but the cosmos that lay in his eyes and the worlds that lay in his soul. something so sacred and rare. a love so true and mortal it put all the greek tragedies to shame. 

you knew that whatever you and him were made of, in every lifetime or the next you two were made for each other. 

loving luke castellan would be both your redemption and destruction in the making, your elysium for whatever good thing you had done in your previous life. 

✩ ‧₊˚

you first met percy jackson when he came to camp, he was a scared little thing who had just lost his mother when the veil between reality and deception flickered. everything he’d known came crumbling as quickly as the truth was uncovered: gods and monsters were real and played games of hell and heaven on earth. some thing about him called out to the vulnerability you once knew when you first came to camp so you made it your mission to be the sister he never had. 

you met him at the front of the steps of the main office, “my name is y/n, percy jackson. welcome to camp halfblood.”

“do you just somehow know everyones name,” he raised his eyebrows at you. 

“yes.” no, but you supposed it’d be fun to let him think that. 

“of course you do.”

“come along, i’ll show the ins and outs here. if you're nice enough, i might let you in on the cook's secret stash of blue ice cream,” you laughed out.

he contemplated his choices before grabbing your outstretched hand and shaking it, “deal.”

you showed him who to avoid and the best people to befriend. the history between your kind and why the gods were as they were. the truth behind his bloodline and the legacy that he was now responsible for. the tribulations and the pain that was cursed to follow the children of the gods. 

“and this is chris. the best person to ask if you need to know what plants are poisonous,” you say, introducing him to a guy with black hair and soft eyes. 

percy looks at chris before looking around to see where the hermes boy is, “we’ve met. he was with luke when he was showing me around”

you’re cheeks heated at the mention of his name; looking around to see if you can spot the familiar tan skin and soft eyes that belong to your luke. 

“oh! luke! yeah, he’s around here somewhere. he’s sly like that, wandering and then popping up the next second.”

a voice pipes up behind you suddenly, “y/n, already telling percy everything about me?” 

you whirl around and there he stands in all his glory with the curls you love and the sun in his eyes. your golden boy.

“just telling him the truth, castellan. you’re hard to get a hold of sometimes.”

a hue of pink covers his cheeks, “i’m never far from you.”

both of you oblivious to percy and chris who seem to be conversing about you both and the tip-toe dance you play. 

percy just wonders what’s happening here: firstly, luke is looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars and that’s saying something because he has shit observation skills–his analysis essays can attest to that. secondly, he swears he can see hearts in his eyes from where he’s standing and is that…is that a blush?

he turns to chris, who is just staring at the two like it's not out of the normal for what’s happening, “what’s happening here? is he blushing?”

chris just nods, “yeah. luke’s kinda–very obviously to everyone–in love with y/n. if i didn’t know better i’d say she’s gotten him insane in love. very likely as her dad’s the god of insanity.”

he turns back to the two who are laughing and standing closer than before, “like super, super in love. if there was a word for love, luke’s found it”

“huh.” 

chris says it like it’s common knowledge like how the best food is blue jelly beans, “i mean i ship it, y/n’s the sweetest person around here–the type of person people write songs about. she’s like a sister to us older ones and a mother to the younger ones. the whole camp is waiting for him to just man up and ask y/n. they make each other happy, you know?”

“yeah, i think i do.” 

percy thinks it’s something the poets would write about.

✩ ‧₊˚

fridays are capture the flag days.

you’re not the type of person to engage in these types of games all that often but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. someone’s got to show the percy boy how it’s played. 

“okay, percy. remember, keep your senses open and make sure that no one gets close enough to engage. once they engage, it’s hard to fight them off.”

all around you two, people have begun to don their armor and raise arms. the sun has just reached its height and you’re huddled together discussing your gameplan. even though your cabin house is pretty small, you’ve joined athena and hermes for this game. 

percy’s voice rises a little high as he tries swinging his sword around only to drop it, “yeah, okay. i’ll just try not to die, i guess. that’s not like hard or anything.”

“just follow my lead and if i’m not here find luke.”

you're not exactly excited about percy’s odds. the kid is lanky as is and his sassiness doesn’t help him out much when others target him for it. 

that’s exactly why you’re gone to his rescue when he nearly gets hit in the face by a spear after he insulted one of the boys from house ares. 

your heel nearly buckles under a sharp hit after you block the attack that’s directed to percy. you manage to reset your heel and push the sword off before you drop down into a crouch and sweep the legs of the warrior in front of you.

unfortunately you're slightly too focused on what’s in front of you and protecting percy you don’t realize that someones charging toward you from the side. 

fortunately, a block from a familiar sword stops any attack that might meet you head on. no sooner do you hear the block that luke’s got the other guy on the floor and surrendering. 

you grin at him, “i had that handled.”

giving you that grin that makes you feel like your future's right in front of you, he replies: “i’m sure you did. but why let you deal with him when i can save you the trouble.” 

“why don’t you go and help annabeth win the games, romeo.”

he gives you a wink, throwing a quick ‘yes ma’am’ before he’s already running off again. 

no sooner than later, a quick gong resounds throughout the camp, concluding the games. you’re standing slightly battered while percy walks behind you pointing out all the flowers he’s found. you definitely need to teach him how to defend himself. 

the players are just trickling in for the woods they’ve been fighting in to reband together and in the distance you see a figure running toward you. 

holding onto the flag, he continues to look at you like you’re everything he’s ever needed to breathe. he’s taken his helmet off and you can finally see him fully: brown eyes and all dimples.

“see you’ve found the flag.”

he takes a couple of steps closer to you until only two steps separate him and you, “yeah, someone told me to go win the game so I did just that for her”.

“really now?”

he whispers, “yeah.” 

his eyes twinkle and you’ve never wanted anything more than to continue to stare at them. 

you hope he’ll make the next move but luke castellan, the boy you’ve fallen for in every lifetime, is always content to admire you.

so, you take those two next steps, grab him by his neck, and press your lips to his. 

he stands shocked for a minute, wondering if what’s happening is really happening. but no sooner, he’s dropped the flag on the grass and holds you like your the greatest treasure he’s ever had.

there’s a certain type of tragedy that your golden boy tastes like, fire and freedom all in this moment. it’s the price of redemption and damnation that you’re willing to pay. 

to him, it’s the stars aligning like you’d will them to–the power you held and every thing he’s ever needed. your his past, future, and present: the threads in his life giving him the one thing he’s ever wanted. something he’s only ever dreamed of. 

he pulls back slightly before murmuring, “in every lifetime or the next, i am yours. i don’t know what i did to deserve you. you’re something only out of my dreams, y/n.”

"you sap"

you just kiss him again, ignoring all the campers and those still trickling in. 

✩ ‧₊˚

“definitely a child of dionysius. she’s reduced him to insanity,” pipes up percy as he tears off the petals of the flower he holds in his hand. 

chris just grabs a flower and continues to rip the petals off like the boy beside him. 

“damn straight!” shouts luke toward the two.

[incorrectbatfam]

Jason is a hopeless romantic 100%

it just doesnt show

But everyone goes to him whn its time to plan dates

Dick: Hey, can I ask you something?

Jason, reading: No.

Dick: You see, Wally and I have our weekly date night coming up, but we've been to pretty much every place there is. You got any ideas for how to shake things up?

Jason: *scribbles coordinates and tosses him the Bat-plane keys*

[later]

Wally: Wow, I've never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Dick: I'm glad you like it.

Dick: *texts Jason a thumbs up*

Jason: *read at 8:55 PM*

———————

Tim: Jason, glad you're here! I totally forgot it's me and Bernard's six-month anniversary. Help me out, man.

Jason, clipping his toenails: Fine. You better write this down 'cause I'm only saying it once.

Tim: *nods*

Jason: Go to Home Depot. You're gonna need some rope, a tarp, hammer and nails, a hatchet, matches, and fuel. After that...

Tim: *furiously takes notes*

[later]

Bernard: A camping trip was a great idea. It's nice to get away from it all. And I can't believe you set this all up yourself.

Tim, chuckling nervously: What's a boyfriend for if not to build a tent and chop down a tree?

———————

Duke: So the school dance is coming up.

Jason, working: Theme?

Duke: Under the sea.

Jason: Ugh, how cliché. Anyway, Armand's Tailoring has a blue suit that'll match whatever your girlfriend's wearing. Tell him I sent you. After that, call Patricia's Bistro and make a reservation with the code word "surreptitious." Alfred can take you in the limo if you give him a 24-hour heads-up to clean it. Once you're there, remind the DJ he owes me a favor to get your song requests bumped up. And remember, a slow dance is basically moving your feet in a square but otherwise go with the flow.

Duke: Sweet, thanks!

———————

Cass: Steph is sad.

Jason, cooking: *sighs*

Jason: *takes out a tub of ice cream*

Jason: *scoops a hole in the middle*

Jason: *fills it with candy*

Jason: Here.

Cass: Thanks!

———————

*phone rings*

Jason, waking up from a nap: What?

Kory: Sorry if I woke you. Barbara's coming over for breakfast in half an hour but I burned it with my powers. It was supposed to be eggs benedict.

Jason: Order takeout and put it on fancy plates.

Kory: You're a lifesaver—

Jason: *already hung up and went back to sleep*

———————

Kate: It's Renee's birthday tomorrow. I have a gift, but I'm not sure if it's good enough.

Jason, polishing his gun: If it's from you, it will be.

———————

Bruce: *walks in*

Bruce: Hey, son. Selina's not talking to me after our argument. How do I tell her how much she means to me?

Jason, reciting Shakespeare: I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, "I love you."

Bruce: You're right. I'm just gonna tell it to her straight. Thank you.

Bruce: *leaves*

Jason: *takes off his headphones and turns around*

Jason: Did someone say something?

———————

Damian: Todd, what is love supposed to feel like?

Jason: Why do you want to know?

Damian: None of your concern. Now tell me.

Jason: *shoots a training dummy*

Jason: It's when they're lodged in your head like a bullet. Except without the excruciating pain and messy red stuff.

Damian, nodding: Tell me more.

———————

Roy: *takes down a villain*

Jason, sitting on a roof: *wolf whistles*

Roy: The hell?

Jason: I know hot when I see it.

Roy: What are you doing here?

Jason: I brought Arrowdogs.

Roy: You hate Arrowdogs.

Jason: But you don't.

Roy: Aw, how sweet—EYES UP HERE, TODD!

[kamaluhkhan]

LONG HOT SUMMER NIGHT

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader word count: 8.4k chapter summary: it's the summer solstice and olympus is throwing a party! thalia notices the tension between you and luke, poseidon gives you some relationship advice and you punch the god of desire in the face. warnings: angst! jealous reader. lots of drinking. complicated relationships. reader dealing with ptsd + survivor's guilt (post-titan war). mention of injuries + blood. creepy guy pushing reader to hook up. ending is a bit steamy but no actual smut. spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 also reader is in a band called the midnight sirens and is born on the summer solstice! author's note: thank you so much for all the love for part 1!! summer is almost over and this is very much a summer series BUT summer's not over yet !!! hope y'all enjoy this one too and thanks 4 reading 💙

part 1 | series masterlist

♪: long hot summer night by jimi hendrix

mail to: 

Luke Castellan Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill 3.141 Farm Road Long Island, New York 11954

LUKE! 

I’m sitting in my kitchen right now, watching Percy make us blue blueberry pancakes and hoping he doesn’t burn down my kitchen while doing so. I caved and agreed to take him to Disneyland while he’s here and breakfast was part of the deal, but I think I might regret it later. 

We went surfing yesterday. It was Percy’s first time, but he was (unsurprisingly) amazing at it. I still can’t get over how beautiful the beaches are and the waves — gods, the waves are unreal. You’d seriously love it here. It’s like every day is summer. You have to come visit. PLEASE come visit!!!!

- [your initial]

P.S. The band and I are working on some new music, which means I won’t make it to camp again this summer. I’m sorry ;( Fingers crossed I’ll make it next year. 

P.P.S. hi luke! happy to report that i did not burn down my sister’s kitchen. anyways, can’t wait to kick your ass in sword-fighting this summer. xoxo, percy

THREE YEARS LATER 

the first time you visited olympus, you had been sent on a quest to retrieve zeus’ stolen lightning bolt, bringing luke and charles beckendorf along with you. you had missed the summer solstice deadline, but still tried to reason with the king of the gods when presenting the symbol of power, maybe calling him out once or twice along the way. before zeus could strike you down for your boldness, poseidon stepped in. the war between them was averted in fear of a much larger, looming threat; an ominous introduction for what was to come in the next chapter of your life.

another time, the gods debated whether or not they should kill you, some seeing you as a threat to their future. that was the day you accepted your destiny, not wanting your brother percy or your cousin nico to deal with the weight of the great prophecy. 

your last visit to olympus was on your 18th birthday, after helping to defeat kronos and his army. you made the gods swear to stop neglecting their kids and to allow all demigods, regardless of whether their parent was an olympian or not, to have a home at camp half-blood; to treat their children as children rather than heroes as pawns in their twisted games.

needless to say, it’s quite strange, being back here under very, very different circumstances, where the gods invited camp half-blood’s senior counsellors and staff to join in their summer solstice festivities.

it’s not every day you’ll be invited to a party on olympus; you’re determined to have a good time, to have fun. there’s already an abundance of music, dancing, food, or alcohol, and the night is just getting started.

you’re happy to be there with new and old friends, but you’re ecstatic when you see that thalia grace is there, too. 

“immortality looks good on you, t!” you compliment, raising your voice slightly over the music.

thalia preens, and you bask in her silver glow. 

“bet you wish you took the gods up on their offer, huh,” she teases. then, her eyes widen. “oh - shit! it’s your birthday! happy birthday!” 

thalia tackles you with another hug; even after all these years, she still smells like pine trees. she grabs two goblets of honeyed wine and hands one to you as you catch up. you eagerly gulp the sweet drink, until you’re reaching for another while listening to her stories about adventures she’d been on with the hunters of artemis. 

about halfway through her story about fighting off a manticore during a snow storm, a nymph appears with a platter of the ripest of fruit – sweet plums and fresh figs, tantalising pomegranates, succulent grapes and crisp apples. 

“oh my gods, this is the best apple i’ve had in my entire life!” thalia exclaims after indulging in a taste, herself giddy from a few goblets of wine. “where’s luke? he’s gotta try this — he’s always reminding us to eat more fruit. luke!” 

you hadn’t kept track of luke, at least not on purpose. you assumed he’d been off partying with van or his siblings, and, probably, avoiding you. wherever he was, thalia calls his name twice more and, like a ghost, luke appears. 

“i’m here, t.” luke’s voice is a deep, steady rumble floating above the music. his cheeks are slightly flushed, either from the heat or the drinks. likely both. “what’s up?”

“you need to try this.” thalia shoves the apple in his mouth before luke can respond. 

luke takes a bite, and some juice drips down his chin. you, in a honey-soaked haze, think about running your tongue over to catch it, but he beats you to it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. 

probably for the best.

“holy shit. yeah, it’s good.”

thalia, a sparkle in her eyes, urges you to try it as well. from across the makeshift triangle the three of you had formed, luke tosses the apple your way. you catch it effortlessly, and sink your teeth into it. 

you’ve almost overwhelmed by the burst of flavor. the fruit is just the right amount of tart to balance out the sweetness, and it’s damn near the best crunch you’ve ever experienced.

“good is an understatement,” you say after another bite. a distant memory crosses your mind. “i wonder if these are the same ones we almost got killed by a hellhound for.” 

thalia shakes her head, laughing in disbelief. “all because luke said we needed more vitamin c.”

“i was just looking out for us!” luke guffaws. “how was i supposed to know that persephone owned an apple orchard in connecticut?”

you pat his shoulder, the three of you smiling at the memory. “let’s call it an honest mistake.”

“well if annabeth had been with us by then, i’m sure that she wouldn’t have made that same honest mistake.” 

“okay, but she’s the daughter of athena —”

you let luke and thalia slip back into their playful bickering as if no time has passed. you listen and continue eating that glorious apple, enjoying how the golden glow of your shared past fills whatever distance might have grown between the three of you. 

somewhere down memory lane, luke’s amber eyes flick towards you.

“hey, you’ve got some….” without another word, luke suddenly reaches over to brush away a trail of juice with his thumb before sticking the finger in his mouth to savour the taste. he holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel a familiar kind of heat rush through your body — not from alcohol or summer sun, but from luke. 

it’s such an intimate gesture that you almost forget that you’re at some extravagant party on mount olympus, where gods and half-bloods and a whole bunch of other mythological creatures are celebrating the start of summer by essentially getting drunk together, until thalia clears her throat. 

“okay, well, seems like the two of you might want some alone time.”

luke’s cheeks grow more flushed than before, and his eyes widen as if realizing what he’d done.

“oh, we don’t need —”

“we’re not —”

you and luke both stumble over your words; thalia just smiles knowingly. 

“i’m gonna go flirt with that nymph,” she announces, pointing across the grand marble pavilion.

“i thought — doesn’t artemis sort of frown upon that sort of thing?” you ask.

“she makes exceptions on holidays. besides, i’m her favourite. you guys have fun.” thalia winks at you and walks away.

you glance at luke and, gods, there’s so much history between you. 

the time you jumped into an ocean full of sirens to save luke from drowning? you have a scar running down your forearm where one of them scratched you as you struggled to get luke towards the surface. 

or when you took turns holding up the sky while on a quest to save lady artemis and defeat the titan atlas? it’s evident in the matching streaks of grey that you each have running through your hair. whenever you see your reflection in the mirror, you remember how you couldn’t save your cousin bianca di angelo earlier that day, and how nico has had to grow up without a sister because of a promise you broke.

how about when you, luke, and one of your best friends were sent on a mission to destroy the princess andromeda, the headquarters of kronos’ army? only the two of you survived, and sometimes you can still feel luke squeezing your hand pike he did during charles beckendorf’s burial shroud ceremony while you both cried.

or when luke took a sword between the ribs for you because he, somehow, knew the one spot the curse of achilles left you vulnerable? he can only slouch for so long before the bones there start to ache.

so, yeah. there’s way too much history, and so many tangled threads, and now really isn’t an ideal time to unravel it all. 

“i’m gonna go find my dad,” you blurt out and disappear into the crowd with no real intention of finding your father. 

the once sweet apple now tastes rotten on your tongue; you rid yourself of it in exchange for some more wine. you’re determined to have fun — no pain or heartache or grief. 

you’ve all had enough of that for three lifetimes. 

summer — age 14

“sorry your birthday was ruined.” 

luke exhaled sharply when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked cloth to the wound on his leg.

“hold still,” was all you mumbled in response, brows knitted together as you wrapped the cut in gauze. 

once you were done with his leg, you moved on to luke’s hands, burned by poisonous acid. the four of you had run into a hydra earlier that night. you managed to wound it enough so you could all get away, but not before a few injuries were sustained. 

you were uncharacteristically quiet as you worked. you only met luke’s gaze to warn him before pouring some nectar on his wounds. you let luke hold your hand, tightly, as the liquid dripped through his fingers and down to yours, first right, then left. the pain was instant, seering almost as much as the hydra acid, but it was over quickly. the last thing you did was bandage each hand before getting up. 

“i’m…i’m gonna check on thalia and annabeth. i’ll take first watch.”

luke caught your hand before you got away.

“wait. you’re bleeding.” he pointed to the cut on your brow. you had been so preoccupied in making sure everyone else was safe that you let crimson liquid drip down your face. it probably stung, too, based on your grimace.

luke wiped away the blood with his sleeve, used nectar to disinfect the wound, and dressed it with a fresh bandage, working silently as you did.

“it’s still your birthday,” luke finally said once he was done. “you get some rest; i’ll take first watch.”

you gave him a small, strained smile before checking on the others. 

later that night, you stayed up with luke anyways. 

seemingly out of nowhere, you handed him your portable cassette player. luke stared at it for a moment, unwilling to comprehend just what you were offering and, more importantly, why. 

you and luke had grown accustomed to sharing things: flannels, socks, makeshift beds and scavenged food. but this —

it was your aunt’s. 

you never met your mother, who’d left you as a baby, and of course, poseidon was too busy tending to his underwater kingdom to step in as a parent. your aunt raised you as her own. and then you lost her, too. 

you kept her cassette player buried deep in your bag with some mixtapes she had made and ones you’d stolen throughout the years. when it wasn’t your turn to keep watch, luke would sometimes catch you with headphones on, looking up at the stars. 

luke liked to think he knew you well; all those subtle elements that made you — the crack of your knuckles, the cadence of your voice, the slope of your nose, the dreams of your childhood. engraved in his own personhood. bones and all. 

and, still: he didn’t know you, not entirely. 

you’d only allowed luke to listen with you once, maybe twice. he’d never forget what it was like: knees pressed together and heads just as close to keep the wires from stretching too far; you gushing about the magic of jimi hendrix, recounting memories that echoed through gentle guitar riffs; luke yearning for one more song to play, for another a wistful smile of yours to appear. luke, wishing to linger in your private oasis a beat longer before you pushed him out again and closed the door behind him. 

the one lock luke couldn’t crack: your grief, and how you carried on so buoyantly despite its weight.

well, there you were, presenting the key to luke as an offering. a sacrifice for something luke would never ask of you. 

“this….” luke swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at you. he turned the device over in his bandaged hands, the metal smooth, though well-worn. “you can’t just —”

leave. you can’t just leave. you can’t just —

“hey.” 

your hand over his, forcing him to stop spiralling and look at you. 

right away, luke regretted it. a small sliver of him, however delusional, had hoped that you were joking. 

you weren’t. behind you, there was an empty space where you had previously wedged your sleeping bag. your backpack was already strapped around your shoulders, fully packed. 

“i need to leave, luke. we can’t stay together. it’s too dangerous.”

“you don’t need to —”

“there’s more of us, now,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away to rest on your thigh. “four demigods together isn’t ideal. we’ve been attracting more monsters. more deadly monsters.”

“that would happen, anyways. it always has whether it’s the four of us, the two of us, or….” 

luke stopped his sentence short, not even wanting to give you the idea to go out on your own, even though you’d probably been thinking about leaving for some time. 

you made reckless decisions sometimes, but this didn’t seem to be one of them.

“well, it’s happening more.” your voice was steady, too steady. luke imagined you rehearsing just what to say to counter the inevitable backlash. 

luke shook his head. “i’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“you almost died because of me,” you clipped. you lifted a hand to touch the bruise on luke’s jaw, but let it drop just as quickly. “you know that children of the big three cause more trouble. maybe we managed it when it was the two of us, but now, there’s more to consider. a child of poseidon and a child of zeus, travelling together. it’s like we’re asking to be killed. it’s too dangerous.”

“that’s our life,” luke snapped. “you can’t just run from it.” from us.

you faltered, looking back to where annabeth and thalia were sleeping peacefully. 

oh. he must have said that last part out loud, too. 

“you know i’m right,” is all you said.

luke could only shake his head again. because, fine, you weren’t entirely wrong. it was more dangerous — but it was danger luke hoped you’d all face, together. 

“i’ve made up my mind,” you added, an anchor in the sand.

“don’t leave.” luke’s words came out as a prayer. if he offered something, maybe you’d stay.

you paused to take a shaky breath. “this isn’t goodbye, luke. i swear to poseidon…fuck, i swear to all the gods that this isn’t goodbye.”

luke couldn’t speak. there were tears bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill. 

“so, keep this for me,” you whispered, once again placing your hand on top of luke’s. his fingers gripped your cassette player tightly, like it was the only piece of driftwood leftover from a shipwreck, keeping him from sinking into the cold, dark nothing. “you’ll give it back when we see each other again.”

a promise. 

“fine,” luke conceded, though he wanted to scream at you. he wanted to argue like little kids — petty, loud, meaningless, back and forth until tears streamed down cheeks and throats were raw. 

but, you were leaving, one way or another. luke didn’t want this shared memory to be tainted if it might be your last.

“you have to take this, then. give it back when we see each other again.”

luke removed the chain from around his neck, the one that held the key to his childhood home. he placed it around yours, instead.

he didn’t need the key now, but his mother had given it to him when he was six. before he knew what it meant to be the son of hermes, god of thieves. 

call him sentimental, but luke had kept it. just in case he ever got lost. 

“if you’re ever back in connecticut, you have a home.”

“yeah, okay.” you smiled softly. 

it fell just as quickly. 

“take care of them,” you told him. “of yourself, too. i’ll see you again when it’s safe.”

luke didn’t ask when it would be safe, because the truth is that it might never be.

“because you want your cassette player back?” luke joked, instead trying to lighten the mood, to capture one last moment of brightness.

you laughed softly to not wake the others. 

“yeah. that too.”

you pressed your forehead to his, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. 

“i’ll see you again,” you repeated.

without another word, you got up and jogged away. luke shut his eyes, refusing to see you become nothing but a shadow. 

(you looked back several times, but he couldn’t see through the darkness.)

now

call the gods out on their bullshit (you encourage it), but if they have one thing going for them, it’s that the olympians know how to throw a party. 

the night grows darker, yet somehow becomes more lively. demeter and persephone had supplied a generous amount of fresh, decadent fruit, and dionysus an even more generous amount of wine. apollo starts a karaoke corner and you’re just tipsy enough to agree to sing a duet with him in order to break the ice. apparently, he’s a big midnight sirens fan and had seen your band when you headlined at glastonbury festival. you smile to yourself, imagining your bandmates’ faces if you told them that the god of music had watched you perform.

as you hand the microphone to a giggling dryad, the sound of your name washes over like gentle waves on a shore.

“if it isn’t my sweet, summer child!” your father brings you in for a hug and an ocean breeze engulfs you — salt and sand and sun. 

“hi dad,” you exhale as you pull away. 

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, but poseidon looks the same. he’s dressed in a turquoise hawaiian shirt and birkenstocks with a crown of seashells on his head. there’s a cocktail umbrella in his glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. you’re about to ask him how he managed to secure a pina colada and where you might find one, too.

“that was quite the performance!” poseidon takes an eager sip of his drink, green eyes sparkling like sea glass in the sun. “i must tell you: your newest album is all the rage in atlantis. the nereids and merpeople can’t seem to get enough of it and, truthfully, i find myself playing it on repeat as well. you’re quite talented.” 

you try not to let your shock slip through, instead smiling and asking how things are in his underwater kingdom, but you’re….touched at your father’s unexpected praise.

the gods aren’t perfect, and your father is no exception. they’re divine beings who have time to conceive children, but not to raise them. there’s a long history of them abandoning, mistreating, and manipulating their own offspring. of course, being the prophecy child, it became practically impossible for your father to ignore you; you’re sure that being dubbed the saviour of olympus gives him bragging rights with his immortal family. even with their sworn promise to change, it’s impossible not to resent the gods in some ways. 

still, you feel comforted by your father's presence at times — when you catch the perfect wave on your surfboard, for example, or when you sit on your fire escape during a storm after a bad day. it’s been like that pretty much all your life: poseidon there in spirit, not in practice. despite everything, he’s watched over you, and percy, throughout the years.

and here poseidon is now, grinning at you like you’re his pride and joy. 

“enough about aquatic politics.” he pats your shoulder enthusiastically after telling you about the struggles of keeping humans from overfishing. “i came over to wish you a happy birthday. and to give you this.” 

poseidon reaches into the pocket of his shirt and hands you something you’d long thought gone: a leather cord with several clay beads and a silver key.

“i found it off the california coast,” he explains. “i kept meaning to get it to you, but i suppose time has a way of getting away from us, immortal or not.”

a warmth grows in your chest as you run your thumb over your old camp necklace, bright and full. it had fallen off one day when you’d gone surfing, and you assumed it was lost to the ocean. you'd been given a fresh leather cord when you arrived at camp earlier this summer, but it felt empty. hollow.

“thanks, dad.” 

you smile at him as you put on the necklace; it feels like coming home. your father then asks you about your summer so far.

you tell him all about your life as of late, until you catch a glimpse of luke with van on a marble bench at the other end of the pavilion. van is sitting in luke’s lap, and they lean over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. 

you freeze mid-way through your sentence.

sensing the shift in mood, poseidon frowns. he turns his head to follow your gaze.

“ah.” poseidon turns back to you and clears his throat. “now, i don’t mean to pry, but i saw you earlier with the castellan boy.”

you flush at the fact that your moment with luke was witnessed by your own father. “dad —”

“did you know in ancient greece, throwing someone an apple and having them catch it is considered a marriage proposal?”

“i’m pretty sure that was disproven,” you scoff.

poseidon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “which one of us was actually there, hm?” and though you roll your eyes, you can’t argue with that. “i just wanted to know if there was a wedding happening in the near future.”

you almost choke on the last remnants of your wine. “dad.”

“i’m kidding. i’m kidding! mr. castellan seems otherwise occupied.” 

“yeah, it does seem that way,” you grumble.

poseidon puts a hand on your shoulder, firm but reassuring. “regardless: if you find someone who would go to tartarus and back with you, someone who would fight alongside you every step of the way, you hold on to them. there’s only so much time you mortals have on this earth.”

you sigh — easier said than done — but your father is trying, so you manage a nod.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

“now, i better go — ” poseidon looks over your shoulder, where the air behind you starts to feel staticky. “it seems a disagreement is brewing between zeus and hades. they always get into it whenever dionysus makes the wine a bit too strong. brother, put away the lightning bolt —” and he rushes away to prevent another divine conflict from arising.

left to your own devices, you venture over to the food table, finding an array of fresh and dried fruit, breads, cured meat, fresh oysters and, of course, more wine. you grab a goblet and a few dried figs.

“careful, i heard dionysus made the wine extra strong tonight,” someone warns, creeping up beside you. the voice is soft and alluring, and you feel something tug at your heart. 

you do a double take when you turn to them; the person is devilishly handsome, a golden aura paired with a golden smile. 

(you will soon find out that the god flirting with you is the son of ares and aphrodite, the latter of which takes the appearance of whoever the onlooker loves. as it turns out, her son appears in the same way. 

all this to say: it doesn’t mean anything that this god looks like luke castellan to you. 

it doesn’t mean anything at all.)

“i’m eros.”

“hey. i’m —”

“i know who you are, savior of olympus.” eros winks at you. “i just never realized you were so beautiful.”

your cheeks heat up as you take a sip of your drink.

oh, shit. 

okay. the literal god of desire and pleasure is flirting with you. 

you’re flattered, really, and maybe the wine has gotten to your head, but you’re not eager to turn him away.

“well, i’ve definitely heard about you, and the rumors do not do you justice,” you quip, painting on a flirtatious smile.

eros puffs out his chest, clearly pleased. 

over the next few minutes, you decide that eros can hold a decent conversation, asking you the classic first date questions about your likes and dislikes, and he’s cute enough that you wouldn’t mind things going further. 

(he might be a god, but he’s no luke. you push that thought away, and force yourself to flirt with helios. eros. right, eros.)

eros leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze drop every so often to the deep v-neck of your shirt.  

“no way! 13 going on 30 is a classic,” you argue. you nudge your shoulder into eros’s playfully, and let the contact between you linger. eros, the inspiration for cupid himself, has angel wings, and you feel them brush softly against your burning skin. 

“it’s totally overrated!” eros exclaims. “also, the childhood friends to lovers trope gives people false hope.”

“it’s not false hope. it’s about the buildup to their happily ever after,” you reason, swallowing some wine to dislodge the lump in your throat.

eros shakes his head. “trust me, baby, it’s all about the instant attraction. that’s where the excitement is.” 

he’s so close now, you can smell the sharp alcohol on his breath. not wine, but something stronger.

“oh? what do you mean by that?” you lean impossibly closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

eros smirks, placing a hand on your thigh. “want me to demonstrate?” 

not even a second after you whisper a yes, eros crashes his lips onto yours, and you will yourself to kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. 

you’re making out with the god of desire and passion, so, objectively, it’s a good first kiss: soft around the edges and firm where it needs to be.

sure — you feel nothing, no real spark, but it’s almost enough to fill the hole in your heart in the shape of a certain son of hermes. 

the son of hermes who has moved on and is in a loving relationship with a perfect emotionally available partner. 

so, it’s fine. 

this, this thing with eros, is fine. 

you’re fine.

eros pulls away first, but keeps a hand on your cheek.

“let's get out of here.” 

he grabs your wrist before you have a chance to answer. you stand up, let him weave you through the crowd towards the stairs of the pavilion. apparently, his room is just through the garden. 

as he tugs you along, he looks back at you, smiling. under the glow of the stars, eros looks just like luke, except it’s becoming harder to ignore that he isn’t luke and that makes you feel all sorts of nauseous. your camp necklace weighs on your chest and, in particular, the silver key that you’d kept for all those years burns through your skin. 

lightheaded, you pull away from eros’ grip just as you reach the top of the stairs and place a hand on the column next to you to steady yourself.

eros turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just…keep talking here.”

eros grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” his tone is ever-so-gentle, but there’s an edge behind his words. 

this time, your voice comes out more assertive. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“come on, baby, don’t you wanna experience what real passion is? this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that a million girls would kill for. you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” he brags, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose, god or not. 

“i don’t care,” you snap, struggling to break free from his grip. “and i’m not your baby.”

“okay, whatever,” eros rolls his eyes, but quickly plasters on an arrogant grin. “we’ll go somewhere private and i’ll call you whatever you want.”

he manages to drag you down two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage and use your strength to rip out of his grip, forcing eros to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he snaps, whipping his head around once more. 

he looks nothing like luke, now.

“just stop, eros.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little kid. so much for being the savior of olympus. “trust me, i know what people want, so you don’t have to be shy. i promise to be the best you’ve ever had —”

“eros, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s percy, giving eros one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. percy, your little brother who talks to lonely fish at the aquarium; who, if you cut open, would bleed blue m&m’s; who would never let anyone, god or otherwise, hurt someone he loves. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my sister.”

“mind your own business, kid,” eros hisses. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you down another step, but you stand your ground.

annabeth, no longer the scared little seven year old you, luke, and thalia found behind a dumpster, is also glaring at liam from the top of the stairs. one of her hands rests firmly on her belt, where she keeps her dagger. 

“i’d back off, if i were you,” she warns. “wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“just mind your own business,” eros snarls.

“they said leave her alone,” thalia asserts, walking over once she sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” she clenches her hand into a fist.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” percy orders. “my sister can do a lot better than a minor god with a major god complex.” 

eros growls, baring his teeth at percy. “you impertinent little shit.”

as soon as eros lunges for your brother, you tug one of his wings towards you, hard. he whips around and you take the opportunity to punch him in the face. he doubles over, golden ichor gushing from his nose.

“i’d be careful if i were you, baby,” you seethe. “you wouldn’t want to go up against the demigods who led an army against kronos and won. unless, of course, humiliation is a kink of yours.” you laugh humorlessly at the way eros scowls at your words. “to each their own,” you continue. “but i’m not in the mood to fuck an entitled creep with angel wings to compensate for his tiny dick. you better fucking respect that, and leave us alone while you’re at it.”

eros’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only entitled, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a few blows to their ego. 

call it stupidity or arrogance, but his only response is a punch delivered right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but percy manages to reach out and catch you before you fall down the stairs. he holds you as thalia and annabeth create a barrier between you and eros. you hear them shouting at eros over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is suddenly all fuzzy. percy tries his best, but you slump your body weight into his and he almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” luke’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. “from what i remember, you were too much of a coward to even step foot on the battlefield, so i’d listen to her if you know what’s good for you.” in a haze, you guess that luke is directing his sharp words towards eros, before turning to the others and instructing: “you guys take care of this — find clarisse if you need back up.”

somehow, you find yourself over in a small secluded temple, sitting on a window bench overlooking the clouds as luke sits next to you.

like most of olympus, the building is made of marble with gold accents; this one has roses engraved on the walls, and the space smells like flowery perfume. it’s much quieter than the pavilion, though you can hear laughter and music in the distance. it’s cooler, too, but not by much; even without all the body heat, you're left with sticky summer air, and luke’s breath on yours, sweet with wine and ripe fruit, as he carefully examines your injury.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him after all) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

“thought the curse of achilles would protect you from nosebleeds.”

“guess it doesn’t protect against —” what did percy call eros? “ — minor gods who have major god complexes,” you recite.

luke looks slightly amused. “that’s a shame,” he hums. “would have been nice to get one birthday without being injured.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the dull ache from your nose.

“you remembered.”

“of course i remember,” luke almost scoffs like the mere suggestion of forgetting what day you were born is an insult to his very character. he meets your gaze, and you could melt when he offers you that lopsided smile of his, painfully familiar. “happy birthday, aquagirl,” and it’s the softest he’s spoken to you in a while. just like old times.

he remembers. 

somewhere within him, luke holds on to fragments of you.

he wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of his silk white button-down now stained crimson. “how’s your hand?” he asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

“i guess all those years away didn’t change anything. still willing to put a god in their place, huh?”

all those years away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, and you’re worried that it might burst the comfortable bubble you and luke had drunkenly stumbled into. 

thankfully, luke continues:

“the kids really take after you.”

he says as a joke, mostly, but there’s a sincerity in those deep brown eyes of his, too. something you also hadn’t seen from him in a while. 

the kids, who you’d in some ways raised together when monsters were trying to kill you and the gods didn’t care enough to stop it. 

the family you and luke had built together despite being born into the world of greek tragedies. 

“as if annabeth wasn’t threatening to pull the dagger you gave her, skywalker,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “besides, they’re not kids anymore.”

“yeah.” he pauses. “neither are we.” 

luke’s fingers trace your camp necklace, brush against your collarbone. the breath hitches in your throat.

here you are again, at the edge of something real and very scary, and you fear luke is going to push the two of you over. 

but he doesn’t. instead, luke suggests, jokingly: “maybe we should start a fight club at camp.” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s hoping to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it. before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re practically ignoring each other.

where you’re fine, but really. 

you snort. “chiron and mr. d would love that.”

“like they’d ever find out!” luke explains. “you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

luke laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

and that’s the thing that really, truly gets you. 

try as you might to ignore it, some days it’s hard to forget the pain and heartache and grief. 

you still feel like your life is a battlefield; you still see the ghosts of everyone you couldn’t save even though people call you a savior; you still have those scars, inside and out, that seemed healed but ache every once and a while. 

but that isn’t all. 

sometimes it hurts more thinking back to the good times and knowing, deep down, you can never go back.

summer — age 13

“ugh — you think with all their power, the gods could help stop global warming,” you groaned, swatting away a mosquito that tried to land on you. “do you think they have air conditioning on olympus?”

“oh, for sure,” luke quipped. he gave you a lopsided smile, his curls sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. 

it was the summer solstice, the longest and the hottest day of the year so far. the two of you had found a perfectly good hideout, but luke insisted that this place would be worth the move. 

he’d been leading you down side streets for what felt like forever. the sun had already set, and you were very close to passing out from the heat, until luke finally stopped at a door behind an alley, with a sign reading CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. 

luke knelt down to do whatever son-of-hermes lock magic he had to do to get the door open. he flipped a switch, and you winced at the sudden overwhelming brightness. 

the destination was different than the hideouts you usually sprung for: those small, hole-in-the-wall type places. instead, this space was big and bright, filled with arcade games and fun posters and neon colours. the type of place a kid might have a party or where a group of normal teenagers might spend their friday night. 

“what…what is this?”

“you thought i forgot, didn’t you?” luke smirked at you. he sat down on the colourful carpet, taking out some snacks, a small plastic bag with coins, a wrapped box, and a plastic blue crown, and gestured for you to join.

you did, in fact, think that luke had forgotten your birthday. 

birthdays were bittersweet for children of gods, who were constantly reminded that any year could be their last, their youth cut short by monsters or prophecies or a fatal flaw. all the two of you usually did on either birthday was split any sweet treat you could get your hands on. 

it wasn’t a big deal, really, to skip that tradition of yours. there were much more urgent things to worry about, like finding food and water and shelter, and not being devoured by monsters. 

you did think it was strange that luke hadn’t so much as said happy birthday to you all day, but you knew that he loved you.

(like a friend loves a friend. nothing else, no matter how much your stomach fluttered at the thought of him.) 

“i wanted to surprise you,” luke explained once you claimed your spot next to him. he reached over to place the crown on your head. “i found this place a few days ago during a food run. it reminds me of where we had your —”

“eighth birthday party, yeah.” you smiled at the memory of running around and feeding quarters to every machine and trying every game, of your classmates singing happy birthday to you off-key before you all stuffed your faces with sickly sweet confetti cake. 

truthfully, you never thought about having another celebration like that again.

but, it was five years from that faded childhood memory, and luke was presenting you with something you didn’t even realize you had needed: the chance to be a kid again.

“so,” luke got up, a wide smile on his face. he held the plastic bag in one hand, extending the other to you. “which do you wanna play first?”

you started with space invaders, then moved on to dragon’s lair and pac-man. you took a break before street fighter ii so that luke could ceremoniously light a candle and present a cupcake that had been tossed around in his bag (but you were still very, very grateful for), along with fresh batteries for your portable cassette player. he had made you a mixtape too, though you couldn’t figure out how. 

your last stop was a photobooth. you vowed to keep those pictures — a collection of you and luke together, smiling bright and colourful, goofing off and laughing — for the rest of your life.

now

those moments from past summers are like popsicles melting in the sun: tangible for a limited time before leaving you with a sickly sweet mess of what once was. 

you think about what happened earlier, how percy, annabeth, and thalia stepped in to protect you, still the brave kids you had once known so well. how luke is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve silently agreed to give each other the cold shoulder. 

maybe luke is right. maybe all those years away didn’t change anything. 

except — once you leave this temple and the alcohol leaves your system, it won’t be the same. 

none of you are kids anymore, if you ever even were. 

“why’d you go for eros, anyway?” luke asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes his sleeve from your nose since the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. most gods are assholes. and you’re…” luke places a hand close to your leg, pinky finger brushing your thigh. “you.”

“i went for eros because….well, honestly, i don’t think i cared who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with luke is running out. 

luke’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s close enough that he’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on luke’s — messy and urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you move to straddle his waist. you taste wine on his tongue, and maybe a hint of sweet pears, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him. luke’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“luke,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

luke wipes away the blood with his thumb. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s an echo of footsteps on the marble floor. a flower nymph, there to leave an offering and let you know that, while aphrodite encourages acts of love, she prefers it doesn’t happen in her place of worship. 

you realize that aphrodite also might not look so fondly at you kissing someone else in her place of worship after publicly rebuking her own son.

luke untangles himself from you, and you know that he’s been jolted back to reality, too. 

and, just like that, another moment has melted away.

your father was right. time has a way of slipping away for us, immortal or not.

summer — age 18

“hey, you awake?”  

“yeah,” you replied softly. sleep hadn’t been easy, in the days and weeks and months leading up to that final battle with kronos and his army. 

and once it was all over? 

you rested your head on luke’s shoulder, sword discarded at your feet and armour half-removed, as argus, the hundred-eyed security guard of olympus, drove a school bus with a dozen or so demigods back to camp.

“why’d you turn down their offer?” luke whispered.

oh.

"why...why do you ask?"

"i don't know." luke paused. "just curious, i guess."

you closed your eyes and replayed that moment on olympus when you refused the gift of immortality. the look of shock written on the gods’ faces. and on luke’s.

“i don’t care about living forever,” you told him bluntly.

forever seemed too long, especially for someone who was prophesied to die at 18.

you tilted your head up to meet luke’s gaze, and his messy curls brushed against your forehead. evidence of the battle was clear on his face: caked-on dirt and blossoming bruises and dried blood. 

behind him, outside the bus window, the world was flying by. a child who had fallen off their bike being comforted by a friend. two people sharing an mp3 player and a pair of earbuds. an elderly couple walking their dog.

“you once told me that this was our life,” you continued, gesturing towards the weapons and battle-worn kids, some quiet, others crying, many injured. “what if it didn’t have to be?” 

luke furrowed his brow. “do you mean….are you talking about leaving?”

you shrugged. running from monsters for your entire childhood then being the child of the great prophecy was a lot.

a break might be nice.

there was so much about the world, the one you’d fought and bled to protect, that you wanted to experience. 

maybe something closer to a normal life.

“would you ever leave camp?” you wondered, not really answering luke's question. 

“no,” luke replied instantly. his fingers started fiddling with the beads on his necklace. “i can’t just walk away, not after everything.”

“yeah, i get that.” and you did; you really, truly, did. the guilt of wanting to leave camp curled in your stomach like a venomous snake. you took a shaky breath. “let’s talk about this later, yeah? i’m tired, and we have the rest of — ”

the rest of the summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. gone, before you even had a real chance to say goodbye.

you closed your eyes and held on to luke, as if gripping his arm would anchor you to something you weren't ready to let go of, but in some ways needed to move on from.

it was no use, though. 

by the end of august, you’d be gone too. 

now 

you learned early on that the curse of achilles doesn’t protect you from hangovers.

you wake up the morning after the celebration on olympus with a deep, throbbing pain lodged in your temple and an uncomfortable swirling in your gut. parties and late nights at bars are common on tour, which means migraines are, too, so you have a routine to make sure you’re not out of commission for too long.

except this time, the aspirin and blue gatorade and dry toast don’t work. the sting in your brain and uneasiness in your stomach doesn’t go away, even after a few days. you haven’t been able to sleep, either.

desperate for a cure, you consult lou ellen, head counsellor of the hecate cabin, who you’d unexpectedly grown close to in the past few weeks. she mixes something for you, while asking if there’s something that’s been weighing on you.

you couldn't keep it in anymore; you tell her about the summer solstice and luke.  

later, with nothing but your thoughts and percy’s snoring occupying your time post-curfew, you grab your phone and flip it open, deciding to finally reach out to luke, when you get a text from him.

luke is already on the beach when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you sit next to him on the sand, but not too close. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell anyone that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, word travels fast around camp, and i don’t want van finding out. it’s not like it meant anything.”

the throbbing in your brain becomes a sharper sting, the uneasiness in your stomach a tidal wave of nausea.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to luke’s stoic demeanor.

luke shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with eros happened…we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing?” the word tastes bitter in your mouth.

luke turns away before he answers. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he sighs. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. whatever you came here for, it's not here for you. there's nothing to go back to. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, luke.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay luke’s words as you crawl into bed, holding back tears so as to not disturb percy. finally, you swallow a generous amount of whatever concoction lou ellen had brewed up for you.

drifting off into your own sleep, you decide that you don’t love luke anymore. not as a friend, not as a.....

nope. 

according to luke, there's not even anything to go back to.

nothing.

nothing.

[llovedletters]

𝜗𝜚 birthday boy .ᐟ

currently playing ❛ stargazing ❜ in which: ❛ percy's typically home this time of year, leaving you to celebrate his birthday in your own cabin with one single iris message update at the end of the day. but, for whatever reason, the gods were in your favour because you got to celebrate your boyfriends birthday with him. ❜

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pairing: ❛ percy jackson x fem!reader ❜ warnings: ❛ use of y/n (😔), cursing ❜

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when you first heard from percy that'd his school year was starting up later than usual and that he'd be able to stay at camp a week longer, you thought to yourself wow, maybe those offerings do work.

it was a blessing and a curse that percy took forever to wake up in the morning, giving you just enough time to sneak out of his bed and spend the few minutes you had blowing up balloons you'd gotten the stoll twins get for you along with everything else you needed.

for gods sake you even contacted his mother a few days earlier just to ask her what he normally did on his birthday so you could make his day perfect.

the balloons flooded the floor and the overwhelming scent of latex and frosting from the singular cupcake you had mixed with the smell that always wafted through percy's cabin.

eventually, the son of posiden would come to realize that this whole time no one had been laying next to him. worry would shoot through his body as he shifted to reach for you. his hands lifted to rub his eyes before sitting up.

"y/n?" his eyes met yours almost instantly, the furrow of his eyebrowns loosening. "gods you scared the shit out of me."

once he finally got a good look around, a smile lifted. the little indents next to the corner of his mouth becoming more prominent. "what's all this?"

"it's for your birthday!"

percy never understood how he got so lucky with you. he watched in admiration as the flame flickered on the freshly lit candle. the blue wax slowing dripping down it's frame.

"it is your birthday right? august 18th?"

percy kicked the covers off. "yeah - yeah it is. when did you do all this?"

"while you were absolutely knocked out like 20 minutes ago. come blow out your candle before it gets in the frosting."

percy's feet hit the ground almost too quickly. he sits down next to you and presses a quick kiss to your forehead. he looks to you, then the candle, and closes his eyes before blowing out the flame.

"i wished for us by the way."

"you can't say that now it won't come true." he gently takes the cupcake from your hands, the warmth of them together waking you up a second time.

"yes it will." percy began, his mouth full of the bite he just took. "you think i'm gonna let my totally perfect girlfriend do all this and not marry her? you're kidding yourself, y/n/n."

you scoff before wiping the frosting off his lip. "happy birthday seaweed brain."

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. . .

A LETTER FROM LAY! is this lay? actually posting?! everyone clap!

"happy birthday seaweed brain!" we all chant in unison with our fists in the air

[nathaslosthershit]

Tensions Fall (Teen Dad!Oscar AU)

(part 2 to Tensions rise, also apart of this AU although these two fics can be read separately)

A/N: 7 weeks since the once happy couple have actually talked. 7 weeks since they shared a bed, but with their two toddlers starting camp for the first time, maybe they can try and mend their problems.

Warnings: Parental separation, a super mean mom like the ones I have to deal with at work, angst WITH A HAPPY ENDING

May 28, 2024

It had been 7 weeks since the fight in Suzuka that effectively ended Oscar and Honey’s relationship. It had been 7 weeks since Oscar had taken a leave of absence from racing in order to try and make amends with his family. He still trained everyday, he still worked with McLaren and did Sim Racing, he just never attended any of the Grand Prixs. 

It had also been 7 weeks since Honey and Oscar had shared a bed. 

Since that night she left their room, she had stayed in her kids’ hotel room till they got home. She then packed her things and moved into the guest bedroom. Things had been far from amicable between the two parents. In the beginning, Oscar had done all he could to try and make up with Honey but when she continued to give him the cold shoulder, he had given up and reciprocated her attitude. The children, about to turn 4 years old, didn’t know the full extent of what was happening at home. They knew that when they would go to their parents’ room in the morning, only Dad would be there, but this was easily explained away when Honey told them that Oscar snored too loudly and it kept her up at night.

They had of course also noticed how different their parents had acted towards each other, and how often their father was home now, but they just didn’t question it because at the end of the day, they were too young to begin to understand, and they still had two parents who loved them as much as they could.

Since the fight though, it was clear Oscar was making much more of an effort to take his kids out to do activities. At first it was nice, Honey got some time alone, something she rarely got anymore, but the more Oscar took over planning activities, the more she began to hate being alone. After three, almost four, years of being around her kids almost 24/7, the silence started to eat away at her. And in turn, her kids started to miss their mom more. 

Finally though, Honey had put her foot down, after a long conversation, ending in a fight, Oscar had agreed to more full family activities, even if it meant having to pretend with Honey that they were still the happy and perfect family. 

While their kids loved going to the park as a family, any parent around could see that the two parents watching their twins on the bench were fighting but trying so hard to conceal their whispered harsh words behind smiles. 

With the twins' fourth birthday coming up on June 8th, Oscar and Honey had been stressing on how they were going to plan their birthday while they couldn’t get through a conversation without being at each other's throats. They also had the kids’ first day of camp coming up May 29, a day that may seem insignificant to most parents, but as the kids had never been to preschool, nor a daycare, camp was their first introduction into that whole system. It was a big step for everyone.

Honey had been trying to prepare the kids the best she could for their first day at camp. She knew they didn't fully grasp the concept and she was nervous about leaving them alone, scared they would feel abandoned as child-care with non-familial adults wasn’t something they had experienced with their mother being a stay at home mom, only ever enlisting help from grandparents, cousins, and even ‘honorary uncles’ such as Logan and Lando. She had to keep telling herself that in the end, they will at least have each other. 

Oscar and Honey decided to make a day of it. Camp wasn’t until 9, so the pair took the very excited Hudson and Frances out to breakfast where the 3 year olds managed to cover themselves head to toe in maple syrup and chocolate from their pancakes, causing them to have to rush home to change, thus leading the family to a late arrival to the preschool building that the camp was held in. 

“We are so sorry, oh my goodness!” Honey said to one of the two teachers who were clearly waiting for them outside the door to the classroom.

“We decided to take these two to breakfast and they got more food on their clothes than they did in their mouths. Which reminds me, I added two extra changes of clothes to their bag in case they need it.” Oscar added, causing Honey to shoot him a glare that was luckily not seen by the younger of the teachers, as the younger teacher was too busy ogling at Oscar to notice. It was her that added the clothes to their bag, it was also her idea, he was being petty by taking credit.

After a few moments of silence as they waited for the woman’s reply, she managed to snap herself out of whatever daydream she was concocting only minutes after meeting the young father in front of her to reply with a quick, “No problem! We know how these kids can be.”

The older woman next to her clearly could sense her coworker was a little two focused on one of the parents and pointedly urged her to take their bags to their cubbies while she sorted the family out, which Honey was grateful for. She may have not been with Oscar anymore but that lady didn’t know it and had no right to eye fuck him in front of her and her children of all people. 

“Why don’t you all say goodbye out here, we are just about to start morning meeting with the other kids.” The older woman said as she stepped to the side to give the family privacy, thought she was close enough to hear all they would say.

Oscar and Honey both felt tears begin to form as they squatted down in front of their kids. 

“Alright, Mommy and Daddy have to go now, but you both are going to stay here and make some new friends. I know this is new and might be a little scary but if you guys get through today, we can all go get ice cream later. How does that sound?” Honey asked, nervous one of her kids was going to break down in tears at any moment. 

“Okay! Bye Mommy, bye Daddy!” Frances yelled as she ran through the open door to the classroom, clearly ready to get started.

Oscar and Honey weren’t necessarily shocked at what their very clearly extroverted daughter had just done, but they still had expected a little bit of pushback from her. They could see the older woman by the door laughing softly to herself at that interaction. 

Their son, Hudson, was less enthusiastic. He didn’t cry, which they had fully expected him to, but he gave them crushingly tight hugs, or as crushing as he could manage, and a quick kiss on the cheek before following after his sister.

Wiping away tears, they both stood up and laughed once they looked at each other's faces, realizing they were both far more of a mess than their kids.

“Wow, maybe we should have been giving ourselves pep talks for weeks instead of them” Oscar joked. Honey laughed, it was the first normal interaction they had had in what felt like forever. 

The older woman, still by the door, quickly joined in, “Oh don’t worry, we find parents are usually the ones with the most trouble at dropoff, but that moment they find you both after a day of camp or school, you will feel just how much they missed and love you. Plus you two are young, you’ve got plenty of more time to make more of those babies. You have grown yourself a real sweet family by the looks of it. Relax for a few hours! Enjoy the time off, maybe even add to your family.” The woman said, laughing, as she closed the door.

“Did she really just suggest we go make more babies?” Honey asked in disbelief.

“I think she did, yeah.” Oscar answered, just as confused as she was. 

The air felt light as they both walked to their car, relishing in how nice it was that they weren’t arguing, realizing how miserable they had been.

But that didn’t last long. 

“Come on, Oscar, you can’t be that dense! She was so clearly eye fucking you!” Honey argued. The conversation in the car had been light for a few minutes until Honey made a comment about the younger teacher and unintentionally started an argument.

“She was not! And if she was, who cares? We aren’t together anymore, you can’t get jealous over something as trivial as someone who thinks I am attractive. Sometime in the future I will get a partner so you better learn to stop being jealous.” Oscar yelled. He didn’t mean it of course, he knew even if he and Honey never got back together, he would remain single. She was the only one for him.

But what he had said, wording it in a way that made Honey fully think about their situation really tore her apart. Yes, they were separated, but she never felt like they were fully broken up. And from what he said, it sounded like he planned on moving on much faster than she ever would.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, she decided to not dignify his comments with a response. Once exiting the car, she swiftly went to the guest room she had been staying in since the separation and slammed the door.

After a few minutes in the car, Oscar had mustered up the courage to apologize, knowing what he did was uncouth. Hearing her cries as he walked up to her door made him stop just short of knocking, deciding maybe it was better to give her a bit of time for now and come up with a way to make it up later.

After two hours of contemplation, Oscar had decided to get a lunch reservation at her favorite restaurant that always had a live band playing. It was impossible to get a day of reservations but with a bit of bribing, he had managed to pull it off. What was also nice about the band was that they could sit and eat silently without any awkward silence. If they were going to fight, they didn’t need to speak. 

She wasn’t crying when he knocked on her door, having managed to seemingly get all her emotions out in the two hours by herself, then clean up to look presentable for pick up. But now she felt empty, like a shell of a person in a house with a man who once loved her to pieces but now seemed to despise her, and no kids because they were away at camp. 

“Come in.” Was all she said.

“I um, I got us a reservation to your favorite place. I understand if you aren’t up for going- or if you’d like to go alone, but I did kind of bribe them so one of us at least has to go, I fear.” Oscar muttered out fast, clearly sensing the awkward energy between them, not knowing whether they were going to ignore the fight or not.

But Honey’s heart burst at the idea of him trying so hard to get into her favorite place. She always urged him to use his name to get into places, like Lando loved to do, but he was always too humble to do it, so it meant even more that he had this time. 

“That… sounds wonderful. Thank you, Oscar.” Was all she said as she started to tear up again but quickly turned so he wouldn’t see. “Let me get my stuff and I can meet you in the car.”

The energy in the car wasn’t light like it was before, but it also wasn’t heavy. A comfortable silence stayed between the two until it got too much for Honey and she burst out into tears, seemingly unprompted. 

“Darling, what's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Oscar asked, openly concerned for her well being for the first time in what felt like years.

“I c-can’t take it, Oscar! We used to have so much love for each other, god, you used to look at me like I hung the stars in the sky, now you can’t seem to look at me for more than a second without realizing how much you hate me now. Then after saying you are going to move on to someone else- you do this really sweet thing and I am- I am so confused and hurt and don’t know what to think or do!” Honey rambled, everything truly coming to the surface. Everything she thought, everything she felt, everything she had tried too hard to push down and pretend wasn’t there.

“Honey, I have never hated you for even a second,” was all Oscar was able to reply as he registered everything she had just said.

“What?”

“I don’t think I am capable of it. Truly. I have tried so hard to be the best I could be for you after the fight. I stopped racing, I planned more activities with the kids, but I couldn’t do anything right. I let rumors continue about you making me stop racing, which I wanted to stop but was told to leave alone. I took the kids to do activities and left you out too much. When you continued giving me the cold shoulder, I gave up when I should have kept fighting. I then tried to love you less, to make it hurt less, but I couldn’t, even if I acted like a dickhead to you. I am so sorry, Honey, and I would never in a million years be with someone else, even if you had an entire other family and were happily married. You are it for me, always have been, always will be.”

With all finally being said, the two went to lunch happier than they had been in weeks, ready to work on their relationship. It was surely not going to be easy, but how they had been these past two months had broken them enough that they were certainly willing to try. 

Near the end of the meal though, things once again got tense. These two couldn’t catch a break it seemed.

Zak Brown, CEO of McLaren, called Oscsar out of the blue and as the phone rang, Honey’s heart sank, awaiting Oscar’s reaction.

“Shit, I should get thi-” 

“It's okay. I promise.” Honey said, already feeling doubt beginning to creep in.

She couldn’t hear much of the conversation as Oscar quickly walked out the door to talk to Zak. He was also turned away from her so any chances of learning information by reading his facial expressions went out the window.

Finally, he returned to Honey biting her nails waiting for what he would say to her. She already started to panic thinking he could have to go to work, race again, and this vicious cycle would never end, that nothing would ever be right between them.

“What did he want?” She asked.

“Asked when I would be ready to come back to race. I said I didn’t have a date in mind. He told me to come in next week for a meeting on it, but I said I wouldn’t make a decision without talking to my family. I am not going to lose you all over this.” He reassured her. 

Honey smiled, doubt leaving as quickly as it had come. Until she herself got a phone call, this time from the camp her kids were at. Stressing that they had missed pick up, she realized after checking the clock that they still had an hour and a half. Confused once more, she answered the call.

Being told on your kids' first day away from you that there was an issue you needed to go deal with immediately, that you needed to fill out both incident and accident report forms wasn’t something that the young parents had envisioned for themselves. 

Rushing to the classroom, Oscar and Honey saw both of their kids crying in the hallway with the older teacher when they arrived, accompanied by another mother and her upset son. Concern laced their features as they took in both their kids, looking for any hints of injury on the two, but they seemed fine, apart from the crying.

“God, don’t tell me these two kids are the parents, no wonder this happened.” The other mother muttered under her breath. Before Oscar could question her, the older teacher spoke up.

“It seems there was a problem between the kids today.” She began, clearly trying to mediate the situation before it got ugly between the parents. “Mattias here stole a toy Hudson was playing with and pushed him over when he tried to get it back. In turn, Fraces bit the Mattias. It didn’t even leave a mark so I know it wasn’t hard, and both kids got a talking to as well as exchanged apologies, but it seems that they might need to go home early for the day to recuperate. We will certainly work on sharing and using our words tomorrow.”

Both Honey and Oscar were shocked. While Hudson was quiet and they had been worried it would make him a target in the future, and they knew their daughter was fiercely protective of her twin, they didn’t think she would result to biting.

“Wow, alright. You two, let's discuss this in the car, yeah?” Oscar said, ready to leave the place as he felt the wrath of the other parent glaring at him. “Really? You are just going to walk away without so much as an apology to me and my son? Unbelievable.” The mother scoffed. “This is why young people shouldn’t be parents. Clearly you two need to grow up just as much. I pray your already terrible daughter grows out of this and doesn't end up like you, spreading her legs too young and becoming up a teen mom because of it.”

Both Honey and Oscar were stunned. They had faced backlash before, sure, but never to their face, and never from someone so clearly in the wrong.

“Excuse me?” Honey asked.

“Oh, you heard me.” The mother replied.

“No, I don’t think I did, because what it sounded like was you were asking for an apology for something your kid started, because I am sure as hell my kids do not have sharing problems. Then when my three year old daughter retaliates to seeing her sweet and vulnerable brother being so blatantly bullied, even though she apologized, you believe you and your snot nosed brat deserve anything else. Guess what, we don’t owe you shit. And while you are so worried about how our kids will end up, why don’t you worry about your own child, who clearly takes after his bully of a mother. Grow up, asshole.” Honey retaliated. She shouldn’t have sworn in front of the kids but damn was it wonderful to see the look on that lady’s face. 

Oscar had never been more turned on by Honey in his life.

After the fight, the family of four got out of there as soon as they could, stopping for ice cream on the way home. They hardly scolded Frances more than a “If someone does something mean, you can’t bite them, use your words” to which she replied “Like Momma did with that lady?” 

The kids were playing quietly in their room once Oscar got alone time with Honey. 

“That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” He said, arms circling her waist.

“When I went full bitch mode on that lady?” She asked, laughing at the desire so evident in his eyes.

“When you stood up for your family, and cursed that dickhead out.” He replied as he started kissing her neck.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, I liked it too but in a different way than you did.” She laughed.

Laying on the bed, cuddling as they basked in the love they still had for each other. Oscar managed to ask the question that had been plaguing him for weeks.

“Honey, will you please move back in here and be with me again? I miss you too much.” Oscar pleaded.

“Fine, but you need to work on another proposal. It is only fair since this all kind of started because of you.”

“Deal, this time I will knock your socks off with my proposal, but first I intend on showing you just how much I missed you.” He said as he began to kiss her deeper and more passionately.

Life was starting to get much better. 

[thoughts-of-bear]

The birthday gift

A Halsin x reader fanfiction | Explicit, 18+ | 7k words A/N: Okay since the Halsin brainrot has had its hold on me for ages, I started this fic on my birthday in december, not expecting to ever finish it because I have literally never finished anything I've started writing before- until now. I got inspired to write this by this post (for the birthday part, the smut part is my own horny imagination) and well, this is the final product. Since it's my first time publishing any of my writing and writing smut at all, please be kind with me XD Summary: Your companions prepare a surprise birthday party for you, Halsin sees you in your new dress, you two dancing leads to him confessing his feelings for you and a very happy ending... CW: halsin x f!reader, virgin reader, halsin eating pussy, fingering, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex i guess, halsin being the man he is, all that stuff idk what to write here really

I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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You and your companions had finally reached Baldur’s Gate. It’s still morning when you enter Rivington that day and the streets are busy with all kinds of people, many seemingly refugees from Elturel and farther away, here to find shelter in the city. As you continue down the road to the village in front of the city gates, you are stopped by a little red-headed girl.

“Erm. ‘Scuse me, I can’t find my mum.” She looks worn out and as if she has recently been crying.

“Where did you last see her?” you ask as you bend down to her, smiling to show you want to help.

“She went to go get some herbs - for her spots” she gestures towards her face. “She was sick. And she was supposed to come back the same day.” She pauses before adding, “That was last tenday though.”

“Let’s go find a guard. They’ll be able to help you”, you propose.

The girl shakes her head. “Guards blow like petards. They don’t help us.”

Your heart sinks at these words. It seems all these people were here because the city wouldn’t take them in. And the guards are no help either, apparently. You wonder what happened to your city, where once everyone was welcome.

Halsin sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “This city is a poor place to be in need of help. Even the guards can’t be trusted to protect the most vulnerable.”

You silently agree and think of how you could help that girl. You decide to spare a few coins, so she can buy herself some food.

“I don’t know where your mum is, but here - take a few coins”, you offer her, not able to tell her that her mother is most likely dead. Halsin smiles at you warmly as you shoot him a quick glance, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh - erm. Thank you so much! I don’t have anything and you can’t do anything without any coin”, the little girl exclaims, bobbing on her toes and suddenly looking a little less tired. “I’ll pay you back. When I find my mum.” She turns around and bolts. “No need, it’s a gift!” you call after her but she has already vanished in the crowd.

You finally arrive at Wyrm’s Rock Crossing in the evening, after you had snuck past one of the new city guards - the so-called Steel Watch - and promised to investigate the murder of the local Ilmater priest. Another incident that seems to fuel the hate towards the refugees.

And that isn’t even all. The city is closed, even for you as a Baldurian, and to get in you’d need an Admission Pass - or wings. You sigh. You just want to get into the city, rent a room in the Elfsong and think about what to do next, now that the Absolute’s army must soon be upon the city.

It’s all too much and too little time. And you can’t just turn away from the people you met in Rivington either, they need help just as much as you need to find out how to beat the Absolute’s Chosen and get rid of the tadpoles.

When you make your way around camp that evening, checking up on your companions, Halsin notices your exhaustion, the way you slump your shoulders and how your usually impeccable stance falters. He wants to relieve you of at least a bit of the tension, so when you walk over to him, he offers you a massage. The things he wants to say to you can wait until tomorrow.

“Thank you, Halsin”, you accept, his hands turning you around and gently pushing you down to sit on your knees before him. You sigh as his broad hands knead the tension from your back and by the time he is finished, you feel like a sleepy, boneless lump of flesh, muscles completely relaxed. You thank Halsin again before you retire to your bedroll, the hopeful thought that the offer might’ve been more than Halsin’s usual kindness crossing your mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next evening, you were finally inside the city walls. You consider the new information of the day. How you got your hands on an invitation to the celebration at Wyrm’s rock fortress, your disbelief to see that it was Lord Gortash’s coronation as Arch Duke, how he made the tadpoled Duke Ravengard give up his power and how Bane’s Chosen then proposed an alliance against Orin, the shapeshifter that had already approached you in Rivington. You had agreed to kill her, but you definitely wouldn’t leave Gortash his Netherstone. But that is a problem for another day. You had managed to get a room in the Elfsong Tavern and as usual you make your way through it to hear what your companions think of all that had happened today. Most approve of your decision. Halsin is the last person you speak to and as always, he has just the right words to ease your worries. For now, at least.

“Wait-”, he grabs your arm before you can leave. “I didn’t thank you yet.” His large hand is warm and makes your skin tingle where it touches you.

“Thank me? For what?” He chuckles at your puzzled look. “For all that you did in Rivington yesterday. You have so many worries and yet you still go out of your way to help those in need. The way you made that little girl smile, or how you didn’t hesitate to investigate what happened to that Ilmater priest.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as he continues. “I’m afraid Nature’s balance can never be restored in a city like this, but seeing what you do every day without expecting anything in return gives me hope. And for that I thank you.” You smile up at him, lost for words with your heart beating fast.

“I appreciate you saying this. I wish I could to more, to help everyone, but if I can at least do a little good, it’s worth the exhaustion at the end of the day”, you eventually admit with a smile. Halsin grins. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are.” Your cheeks blush an even deeper red at those words and only when you retire to bed for the evening does your heart resume its normal pace again. But the warm feeling Halsin’s presence gave you remained for the night.

After you had the first proper breakfast since your crash with the Nautiloid, you feel ready to explore the city and find out how to best deal with all your problems. You hadn’t particularly missed the bustle and noise of your old home, but you can’t help feeling safer now that you were in familiar surroundings again.

Gale proposed to go to Sorcerous Sundries, both to find out more about the Elderbrain’s crown and to see what the wizard there wants with your companion Nightsong. Since you don’t have an idea where to find Orin yet, you figure that this is as good as any other thing you could be doing. 

The way from Elfsong to the magic shop isn’t far and you still have some time before it opens, so you decide to stop by the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette to update yourself on any news you had missed in your absence and struggle with the Absolute.

Scanning the title page, you notice the date in the corner and your brows shoot up in surprise. Noticing this, Gale asks if you found anything important in the newspaper.

“No, it’s just that I realised today is my birthday and I've completely forgotten about it. That means we have been on the road for more than two months already”, you wonder aloud before you add, “It doesn’t feel that long.”

“Well, then we have to celebrate of course!” Gale exclaims happily. You smile at his enthusiasm but shake your head. “We have bigger problems for now. Let’s see what this Lorroakan wants with Dame Aylin and then get on with our business. Besides,” you shrug, “we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my monastery anyways so I won’t miss anything.”

“If you say so,” Gale replies and you turn your attention back towards the page you were studying before.

You had already forgotten about the conversation as you come into your chamber in the Elfsong, grateful for the few minutes alone during the bath you had taken and the respite for your tired body.

But the moment you enter the room, Karlach and Shadowheart drag you to a set dinner table, laden with the most delicious food you could imagine. There aren’t your ordinary fish heads and the mouldy bread you usually have to call supper, instead delicious smelling pork roasts, pies, glazed carrots and potatoes, deep red apples and more pile atop the table, all lovingly placed around a huge flower bouquet in the middle of it.

You are so overwhelmed by the amount of work your friends must’ve put into this, that you can only stutter a ‘thank you’ before Karlach announces, “Happy birthday soldier! Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart here told us that today is your birthday and you never had a proper party before, so we decided to prepare you a little something!” With a grin she gestures from the table to one of the unoccupied beds, where a few packages are placed.

“You brought me presents too? You really didn’t have to!” you exclaim in surprise. You are so touched that your friends -among all the trouble- still found time to prepare the presents and this party for you that you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Darling, no need to cry,” Astarion laughs as he pushes you onto your designated chair. “This is a party and not a funeral! Go ahead and enjoy yourself, it’s your special day after all!”

With a sniff and a small chuckle at Astarion’s words you sit down properly. He is right, of course, and you all clearly enjoy having a small break from the worries you faced at the moment.

Smiling hesitantly, you grab some meat and vegetables and start to eat - it really is delicious. You revel in the laughter and conversations with your friends, your weariness from todays fight forgotten for the moment.

When all of you can’t possibly eat any more, Karlach drags you over to the bed with the presents. You can tell she is excited to see if you like the few things your companions managed to get you in the time they had for preparing, so you start unpacking.

The first present contains a book on the monastery you were raised in, with a handwritten note from Gale:

“I’m sure you already know most information this book has to offer, but I thought it might still bring you comfort and remind you of home.” You thank him with a tight hug and carefully place the book into your bag.

The next package is a bottle of the finest liquor of the Elfsong Tavern, plus a sparkler for every one of your companions which Karlach sets of immediately.

Laughing at her shenanigans, you reach for the last and biggest present. It is wrapped in red paper and decorated with a little white bow. You wonder where your companions had managed to find all those things while you carefully pull the paper open. Soon a dress falls out of the packaging and you gaze at it in awe. Your fingers trace the deep forest green fabric, intricate silver and gold patterns weaved into it.

“This is beautiful, thank you, truly!” you say earnestly. You still can’t quite believe that all this should be for you. “I thought you would like it”, smiles Shadowheart. “And I’m certain it will suit you beautifully. Go now - try it on!” she urges you.

You walk to the bathroom which still smells of the quince-scented soap you had used for your bath a few hours before. While changing, you bask in that warm feeling in your chest these moments among your friends always grant you. Whatever problems you had encountered, in your opinion they have all been worth it just for the people you found and let into your heart along the way. As cheesy as that sounds.

You regard yourself in the mirror. The dress is cut low and close-fitting, capturing your cleavage in a very flattering way. Maybe too flattering, if you think about it too much. This isn’t something you’d usually wear, but you have to admit that you like the way the dress looks on you. A bit insecure you go back into your room, where you are greeted with approving cheers and whistles from your friends.

“You look absolutely stunning”, Shadowheart admires. “I knew it would look good on you! Turn around please”, she commands. You do what you are told, with red cheeks at the compliment.

When you face Shadowheart again, you notice Halsin gazing at you with pure admiration - and something else you can’t quite place. You think you notice a golden shimmer in his eyes, but that could be a trick of the light considering all the candles in the room.

“I must admit, your neck looks very tempting in that dress but I know someone who is a lot hungrier for you than me right now”, Astarion remarks with a wicked grin and a sideward glance. You frown at him, though you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at these words. Could he possibly mean Halsin?

“Now, what would a party be without some music and dance?” Wyll interrupts your thoughts and as if these words have summoned her, the bard the party had met in the druid grove appears in the doorway.

“Alfira!” you exclaim happily and immediately rush over to hug her. “I’m so glad you got to Baldur’s Gate alright!”

Alfira grins at you. “Yes, thanks to you and your friends here. When they reached out to me today and told me it was your birthday, I just had to come! Wyll organised everything.” You nod to him in thanks. “Now, I don’t have anything to give you but just tell me what you want to hear and I will play it for you!”

“Thanks, Alfira, that’s more than enough for me”, you beam and lead her into the room towards your group. “Wyll, now is your chance to show me your dancing!” You say as you take his hand and pull him into the middle of the room, then you grab Karlach and Gale and start to move to the tune Alfira started to play. Karlach swirls you around and Wyll shows you the dance moves from court, which -to be honest- remind you a bit of the mating dances you had seen with a few bird species.

Out of breath from all the dancing and laughing, you request a slower tune from the tiefling bard. You manage to persuade Shadowheart to put away her wine for a moment and start to waltz around the room with her. She is quite the good dancer and you wonder where she had learned it, with her being raised in a Sharran temple and everything.

At the next tune, you approach Halsin. With your head light from the wine, you have finally gathered the courage to ask him for what you have secretly thought about the whole time.

Still, you can feel your heart beating in your throat. “Erm…Halsin, w-would you honour me with a dance?” you eventually manage to mumble out shyly.

“Of course, little flower. Whatever your heart desires.” That particular heart skips a beat at his intimate tone. “Although you might wish you hadn’t asked me that once you’ve seen my dancing”, he adds with a chuckle as he takes your hand.

He leads you into the room and starts to swirl you around to the melody of Alfira’s lute. He definitely isn’t as graceful as Shadowheart but certainly not as bad as he has made it sound. But even if he’d had the dancing skills of a bugbear, you wouldn’t have noticed. His large and warm hand around your waist and the smile with which he regards you sends your pulse through the ceiling. His smell of pine and honey and fresh air intoxicates you and it is hard to keep your feet from getting tangled in your dress.

When he leans down to you, you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. “Before you go and mingle again, I still have a present for you. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it”, he admits, “but I have decided to give it to you anyways.” When the tune ends, he leads you to the space in your room where his bed stands and bends down to search his pack.

You think about how long it took you to realise how attracted you are to the druid as you admire his strong back before you. Of course, you have noticed his kindness and compassion and you have always marvelled at the way he drew strength from nature. But only since you had some kind of break these last days have you begun to understand the depth of your affection for the man before you. It runs deeper than mere friendship and the echo of his hands on your back have awoken a hunger inside you that only grows stronger the more you look at Halsin. How desperately you hope that he feels the same way about you…

When he stands up to turn around, you quickly brush away the thought that has sent the heat into your cheeks again.

“You’re the only one who knows of my secret passion”, he begins jokingly, “so I thought you might accept this as my present for your special day.” He hands you a small whittled duck he has apparently made in the hours you were away from camp. You can’t help but tear up at the thought of how much effort he has put into all the details he has carved. There are even small webbed feet on the underside of the little duck.

“Thank you Halsin, this is an amazing gift!” You smile down at the little duck. “You are amazing”, you add quietly.

“With all that you have done for me, I should be the one thanking you night and day.” As you look into his eyes again you see that his gaze is now very solemn. “There was another reason for wanting to speak to you privately. I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” Your heart flutters in recognition of his words, the confession sending sparks across your skin.

“I want more than to fight at your side, or to sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin’s gaze on you is intense, filling your chest with a burning heat that slowly spreads lower into your belly, as if the wine you have been drinking suddenly caught on fire inside of you.

Halsin continues, “I think you feel the same way - but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

You stare at him for a moment before you realise that he waits for your answer.

“Y-you’re not wrong, far from it”, you whisper. “I would like that very much.” You smile up at him and he takes your hand in his.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes out, relieved. You nod and he bends down to gently press his lips on yours.

His hand slides up your arm and to your back while he places his other behind your head, gently pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

You feel his tongue prodding at your lips, demanding entrance and you happily oblige. The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends you spiralling and you can’t stifle the small moan that escapes you. Halsin sends out a silent prayer to Silvanus - if that is all it takes to make you moan, what sounds do you make when he finally gets to taste you? Groaning, his hand on your back slowly wanders lower, a silent question of permission in his eyes. You press your body against his as an answer, feeling the heat radiating off his chest … and lower.

Halsins hand grips your ass firmly, making you gasp, the other joining in and hoisting you up on his hips, turning you both around and pressing your back to the wall. You cannot stop the surprised squeak that escapes your lips at the sudden movement and Halsin presses his mouth on yours to stifle it.

The feeling of the growing bulge in his pants between your legs and the low moan Halsin utters before kissing you even more vigorously sends a shiver down your spine, pressure starting to build between your thighs.

In a desperate attempt to pull him closer, your hands grip Halsin’s hair, arms, everything you can reach. But before you can lose yourself in him, Halsin releases your lips, panting, and rests his forehead against yours.

“I would very much like to continue”, he whispers, his breathing ragged and voice hoarse with desire, “but the others will expect us back and I think you would probably like a bit more privacy.” He sighs and softly kisses your hair. “I will come to your bed when the party has ended, little flower. But don’t expect much sleep”, he adds with a wicked grin. You can only nod as he gently props you back on your feet.

With your head spinning, you get back to the others, averting your eyes from the knowing smirks of Astarion and Shadowheart noticing your ruffled hair and flushed cheeks. You ignore them, trying to engage in some more conversation and one or two dances while the thought of what awaits you won’t leave your head.

When the last of the party finally bids you goodnight, you hurry to bed, awaiting Halsin. You can’t get away from the echoes of his hands on your body, heart already racing again and warmth blooming in your belly. Even if he hadn’t promised you he’d come tonight, you would’ve been unable to sleep.

A soft rustle next to your ear startles you from your thoughts and as you turn your head, you could make out Halsin’s large figure in the dark, crouching beside your bed.

He cuts you off from what you wanted to say by placing a finger on your mouth, his other hand sliding under your back and pulling you into an upright position. With your heart beating into your throat, you take the hand Halsin offers as he gently beckons you to follow him into the corridor outside of the room the party shares, then further into a small but cosy bedroom on the next floor.

The door closes with a click and before you can say anything, Halsin sweeps you up into his arms, pressing you flat against the door and capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like it burns you from the inside.

Halsin’s fresh, earthy scent floods your senses as your tongues intertwine and your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at his braids. You whine when Halsin lets go of your lips, only to gasp as he starts nibbling and placing searing kisses on your jaw while his hands squeeze your ass firmly, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You moan at the growing ache between your thighs but plant your small fists against his shoulders anyway, gently pushing him away a bit. Halsin’s eyes, pupils wide and dark with desire, find yours.

“What is it my heart?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?” You see no disappointment in his gaze, only worry and your heart swells at how selfless your lover is. You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed to tell what troubles you.

“I- I j-just wanted t-to say that … um … well, I- I have never been with someone before”, you mumble eventually, averting your gaze as you blush furiously.

“Silvanus, preserve me”, Halsin groans out before almost dropping you and stumbling backwards, trying to steady himself on the small desk opposite the bed. With wide eyes you regard what is happening before you. Halsin drops to his knees, a deep animalistic growl coming from his lips as his eyes fill with golden light and he transforms into his huge bear form.

You gasp and nearly trip over your feet in an attempt to make room for the bear before you, but the animal fills almost the entire chamber. After finally regaining his composure, Halsin manages to change back into his elf form, with a snarl and a ragged breath coming from his lips.

“Forgive me. I- lost the run of myself.” He shakes his head in disgust at his outbreak, terrified that he has ruined this precious moment with you before it could properly begin, and slowly gets back to his feet. “Sometimes, when blood runs hot enough, it’s difficult to tame the beast. And the thought of you trusting me enough to share your first time with me … well, you saw what happened”, he smiles tentatively, slowly approaching you again with hesitation in his eyes.

“Don’t apologise”, you assure him with a shy smile. “I like it.” If possible, you blush even harder now. “Maybe for another time…?” you add, fidgeting nervously with the front of your dress.

A relieved grin spreads over Halsin’s face. “You like it..?”, he chuckles. “You are full of surprises, little flower.” As he steps forward, he bends down to gently plant a kiss on your cheek, only to proceed to bite at your earlobe which elicits a delicious moan from you.

“I’m glad you think so, but now you’ve made it even harder for me not to outright devour you”, his low voice whispers in your ear. “Nevertheless, I will be gentle. Or at least I’ll try to be.” You swallow hard, arousal sending shivers down your spine.

Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist again as he kisses your jaw, your forehead and nose, until eventually his lips find yours again, his tongue ravaging you like a man starving. His hands, this time directly shoving under your dress, firmly grip your thighs. He ruts against you, growling, his now rock-hard cock pressing against the confinements of his clothing.

His fingers trail higher up, kneading your ass, then stroking the soft skin of your back before slowly wandering even higher. His touch sends jolts through your body and you can feel the heat between your legs, already nearly too much to bear.

His eyes hold an unspoken question and when you nod, Halsin lifts your dress off and brings his mouth down on one of your breasts, the hand that’s not on your back now gently kneading the other, massaging the hardened nipple between his fingers. You mewl at the sensation, impossibly more pressure building between your thighs. Halsin gently bites down at your breast, only to run his tongue over it afterwards to soothe the mark he made. You moan and arch your back, desperately trying to press closer against Halsin’s still overly clothed erection, wanting to feel everything of him.

He growls and his mouth begins to place kisses down your front, between your breasts, on the soft flesh of your belly until he is on his knees before you, his warm breath fanning over you and flooding you with heat.

“More?” he asks, his pupils blown wide with lust, as his thumbs brush the soft skin between your legs. “Please”, you whine, knees almost too weak to stand and your underwear already embarrassingly soaked.

Halsin wastes no time, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs, his one hand holding you in place and his other slowly -too slowly- sliding your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare and dripping with need before him almost makes him lose control again, makes him want to take you, devour you, fuck you, mark you and then fill you to the brim with his cum but with a groan he wills himself to calm down and be gentle with you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.

He exhales deeply, lifting one of your legs up and slowly swiping his tongue through your wet folds, which earns him a choked gasp. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue starts stroking, slowly at first, then faster and with more pressure. You can’t help the way each expert swipe of his tongue makes your hips buck into his mouth as countless moans and sighs fall out of your mouth. Halsin growls in response, the vibrations around your sensitive bud making your legs shake. You can barely keep up and the coil in your belly is tightening ever faster with Halsin’s mouth sucking your clit and his tongue inside you.

“You are sweeter than honey, my heart”, he groans as his tongue presses flat against you. “Let me taste you as you come undone on my tongue.” With your mind clouded with lust, all you can do is moan out Halsin’s name and press yourself further against your lover’s mouth.

He understands anyway, now slowly dragging a thick finger through your dripping folds until he stops, teasingly pressing against your entrance. You whine, begging him to fill you, to do anything to release the overwhelming pressure between your thighs. When he finally thrusts into you, you can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth. With Halsin’s finger now working your cunt open, his mouth continues its ministrations, licking and sucking your clit, soaking your legs with your slick.

With a wicked grin, Halsin inserts a second finger into your quivering hole, pushing inside over and over again, holding you firmly in place as you try to writhe away from the intense pleasure. His fingers coil upwards in response, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Please Halsin…”, you beg, toes curling and legs shaking, “I’m close- I- Oh!“

Moaning into your cunt, Halsin picks up his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue swipes over your clit again and again, bringing you closer to your end.

One more thrust with his fingers and a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive bud between your legs is all it needs to send you spiralling over the edge. “Ha- Halsin!” you cry out, hips jerking violently and fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you with the force of a lightning bolt. He moans at the sensations of your walls contracting around his fingers, the urge to take you and feel you squeeze his cock with your needy cunt almost overwhelming him.

You whine when he pulls his fingers out and stands up, bringing you in for a passionate kiss as you still struggle to regain your breath. Tasting yourself on Halsin’s tongue pulls a small moan from you and an embarrassed heat creeps up your back at the thought of how aroused you already are again.

With a smile, Halsin pulls away. “You are amazing, little flower”, he whispers breathlessly as he picks you up and gently places you on the bed, admiring your flushed body.

If Halsin’s tongue hadn’t just turned your mind to goo, you might have been able to return that compliment, but alas-

“May I go further?” Halsin asks and when you nod he swiftly discards of his clothes, you licking your lips at the sight of the elf naked before you. Your eyes take in his form, from his muscled arms down to the soft curve of his belly and- oh gods. Your eyes widen. You didn’t think he would be that big and the thought of him filling you makes you gulp down a mixture of fear and arousal.

Attentive as always, Halsin notices your insecurity and bends down to press gentle kisses against your ear. “We don’t have to do this, my heart…”, he whispers while he rubs soothing circles into your hips. He looks at you, his expression earnest. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before answering. “N-no, I want this”, you assure him, your voice still weak but pleading now. The way you look so sweet with your little fangs on your lips makes Halsin feral and he kisses you again, desperate and more passionate this time. He groans into the kiss as he gently spreads your legs for him, lining up his tip with your dripping slit and sliding through your soft folds before stopping just at your entrance. The sensation of his hard length so close to entering you is enough to make your head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “If it’s getting too much, tell me and I will stop immediately”, he whispers soothingly. “Now relax for me, little flower.”

All thoughts leave your head as Halsin slides in, agonizingly slow. The stretch would be painful if your lover hadn’t prepared you so thoroughly beforehand, but now you only feel pure bliss. Raising your head, you can see that he isn’t even halfway in but gods, you feel so full already that you can’t stifle the choked gasp that escapes your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my heart. Just a little bit more- mngh-!“ Halsin’s growl sends jolts through your spine as he finally bottoms out. You can see just how much effort it takes him to hold back by the way his jaw tenses and his chest is heaving.

“By Silvanus, you’re so tight-!“ A shiver crawls down his back, carrying a wave of soft golden light with it, as Halsin’s eyes light up with his magic for a moment. The thought of how you are able to bring your lover to the precipice of losing control is extremely flattering and you feel yourself clenching around Halsin’s cock, making him grunt in response. Finally somewhat accustoming to his size, you arch your back into the mattress below you. The new angle makes you moan in pleasure as you grip the sheets for support.

“Are you still feeling good, little flower?”, Halsin asks as he slides a hand from your hip under your back to support you. You can only form one thought. “More- please Halsin!” you whine desperately. You don’t have to ask twice, with a low growl he slides out - just to knock the breath out of you with his first, hard thrust. He sets a steady pace, one that leaves you moaning and gasping out his name. Halsin takes your small hands into his, pressing them into the bed beside you to pin you down, pushing into you deep and slow while he places bites and kisses on your throat and chest that will surely leave marks come morning.

Gods, Halsin thought. The sight of your small body sprawled beneath him, split apart by his thick cock while he fucks into you relentlessly is driving him insane. He is growling with every thrust now and each one of them makes you cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long until he has you on the precipice of release again, your cunt fluttering around Halsin’s length.

“H- halsin- please! I’m so close!” you can only beg, not sure if you can take much more, your body feeling like it might explode. “Come for me, my heart”, Halsin demands in a gravelly voice before pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing and massaging until his name leaves your lips in a hoarse cry as your orgasm hits you with full force. Your hips jerk upwards, walls clenching around Halsin as you notice the tears from the overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. He continues to pound into you, prolonging your release and muttering praises for you under his breath.

Through the fog in your mind you wonder how Halsin still has the energy to keep going, his pace unwavering while you are completely spent, gladly accepting whatever your lover has to give you as long as you’re not required to move.

So, you do not see it coming when Halsin suddenly pulls out of you, the unexpected emptiness making you whine in displeasure, only for him to flip you over and press your chest into the soft bedding while he gently raises your hips.

“I know it’s a lot right now but I need you to cum for me one more time, my heart”, Halsin huffs with a strained voice, pushing inside you once more and grabbing a fistful of your hair to keep you in place. The new position lets him slide even deeper than before and you can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you when Halsin starts pounding into you again, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back with blinding pleasure.

“’s too much- please-!” you sob, your poor overstimulated clit still trying to recover from the last orgasm. But Halsin doesn’t relent and you can feel sharp pricks on your hips where his hand grips you, fingers partially wild-shaped into claws and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Seeing just how feral you drive him makes your hole clench around his shaft, the squeeze causing his hips to stutter as a grunt leaves his lips. “Silvanus preserve me”, Halsin pants as he fucks into you even faster, “if you keep squeezing me like that I will not be able to stop myself from claiming you completely, from making you mine and filling you up with my seed.”

You whimper at the image of Halsin pumping his cum into you, fucking it deep into your womb until he is sure that it has taken hold. You cannot pretend you haven’t thought about it before, the idea usually sending an embarrassed heat into your cheeks, but now - gods, now you needed it.

Completely breathless you moan, “Halsin I- ah-! please-! Fill me with your cubs!” These words were the last needed for Halsin to lose himself completely in you, driving himself into you with punishing strokes that cause you to arch yourself into him while moans and whispered curses fall from both your lips. The coil in your stomach is so tight again and when Halsin takes the hand from your hip to softly press on your lower belly you see stars. Your walls clench around Halsin’s cock and you feel him twitch inside you, a sign that he too is close to release. All it takes to send you over the edge is his finger pressed against your clit, your body shaking violently beneath him, toes curling, while waves of ecstasy course through you and you cry out his name.

With a last snap of his hips and a low moan, Halsin comes as well, twitching cock releasing hot spurts of cum inside your still fluttering walls. He continues to pump into you until the aftershocks of your shared orgasm have subsided, before he slowly pulls out. You collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion settling over your overstimulated body.

Halsin gets onto the bed with you, gently gathering you up in his arms and placing your head against his broad chest. “You’ve done so well for me, little flower”, he whispers into your ear, placing soft kisses on your face before he looks your body up and down. One of his hands comes up to stroke a strand of hair away from your damp forehead and to gently lift your chin in order to look you in the eyes. You note worry in his gaze, his brows furrowed in remorse when he plants a feather light kiss on your lips.

“I’ve hurt you”, he states. “I’m so sorry, my heart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

You smile up at him and cuddle deeper into his arms before you shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I loved every second of it. There is no birthday present in this world that can ever match this”, you confess with a shy grin. “Although I have to admit I’m a little sore. You sure did your best to make sure I’m unable to walk tomorrow.”

Halsin chuckles. “I can help with that”, he answers with a sly smile, his free hand sliding down your body to stroke through your soft folds, muttering an incantation under his breath. As the familiar glow of the healing spell engulfs his fingers, you feel a rush of warmth where he touches you. A moan escapes your lips before you could stop it, eliciting a mischievous smirk from your lover as you hide your face against his chest in embarrassment.

“I’d be happy to go again, my love, but I think you need some rest first. Besides, we still have an Elderbrain to kill, so we’ll need our strength tomorrow.” You nod at that, the tiredness in your bones leaving you unable to object, even if you had wanted to. But you know he is right, so when Halsin wraps a blanket around you to carry you to the bathroom, you just relax into his chest, the sound of his steady breathing soothing you.

When the bathtub is filled with warm water, you are already half asleep, barely registering that Halsin is gently cleaning you up, rinsing the sweat from your hair and body and rubbing salve over the bite marks and the bruises on your hips once you are dry again.

You can hear the soft snores and deep breathing from your companions when Halsin brings you back into the room you share, all of them already fast asleep. Absentmindedly you wonder how long you and Halsin have been away, but the thought is gone as soon as Halsin places you on your bed.

“Goodnight, my little flower. Sleep well.” He gives you a kiss and turns to leave. You manage to grab his hand before he does, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay with me tonight?” you mumble sleepily. Halsin smiles, warmth and adoration filling his chest as he carefully climbs next to you, the bedframe creaking slightly with his additional weight, and wraps his arms around your smaller figure. The thought of how your companions might react in the morning seeing you two in one bed briefly crosses your mind, but Halsin’s steady breathing and the soft pulse of his heart against your back soon drown out anything else as you drift to sleep in his warm embrace.

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Part 2 is here now!

[ma1dita]

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

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solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 

“Holy shit, you scared me!” 

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.” 

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, Trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans? 

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 

Gods. 

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, Trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—with you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday!! Harry Potter or Percy Jackson please!!

a continuation of 1 2 3

There's something off about Percy.

Actually, Thalia should rephrase - there are several things extremely off about Percy. It's not worth repeating, and barely worth saying, because they're all just that obvious.

They're sitting around a fire in the middle of the woods, Luke cooking the several fish that Percy had managed to spear onto his sword, which was ridiculous for an entirely different set of reasons.

"Are you a god?" she asks suspiciously.

He makes a choking sound that she thinks might be a laugh and he gives her a grin that she refuses to be charmed by. Luke is doing that enough for all of them. "Oddly, not the first time I've been asked that, but I'm just as much a demigod as you are. My mother's mortal."

"Present tense," Annabeth says, her little face screwed up into a scowl. "She's not dead, then. Is she mean?"

"Annabeth," she and Luke say at the same time. One day they're going to teach this girl tact.

Percy shakes his head, leaning back on his hands, completely unphased by Annabeth's directness. That's a point in his favor. But only a very little one. "Nah, she's great. Best mom there is. But she's mortal, and I'm," he gestures to himself.

A demigod as powerful as Percy must attract a lot of monsters, ones that he can apparently deal with, but would be deadly to his mother. Thalia feels a twinge of sympathy. It's one thing to have the messed up family dynamics that she, Luke, and Annabeth do, and it's another to have a mother that he loves and cares for and who he can't be around with endangering her life. "How long have you been on your own?"

His gaze goes distant and maybe she could learn some tact herself, but she thought it was a simple question, just factual and not personal. "I haven't lived with my mom full time since I was twelve, but I wasn't exactly on my own."

"Camp," Luke says, a hardness to his gaze.

Percy's lips twitch. "Chiron doesn't know who I am. But almost everyone who trained me did come from Camp Half-Blood."

"Including who taught you how to use a sword?" Luke asks. Thalia knows he takes pride in his swordsmanship, and she also knows that Percy is better than he is. Part of inviting him along was probably to get Percy to teach him, which Thalia can stomach a bit better than Luke getting distracted by a pretty face.

Percy goes quiet again, gazing at Luke with an expression that makes Thalia shift closer to Annabeth. "Yeah. They were from camp too."

[its-avalon-08]

why did you leave me (cl16)

part2!

multipart story! prev || next

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Y/N sat alone in her room, the soft glow of her laptop screen casting shadows across her face. She had made the decision to distance herself from Charles, but the weight of that choice pressed heavily on her heart. She opened her photo gallery, scrolling through the countless pictures she and Charles had taken over the years.

The first photo she stopped on was one of them as children, covered in mud after a day of playing in the rain. Charles' bright green eyes sparkled with joy, and Y/N's face was lit up with a wide grin. She remembered that day vividly.

"Come on, Y/N! Let's see who can make the biggest splash!" Charles had shouted, his laughter infectious.

They had spent hours running through puddles, completely carefree. Y/N wiped a tear from her cheek, her heart aching with the memory of simpler times.

The next photo was from their high school graduation. Charles had his arm around her, both of them wearing their caps and gowns, faces beaming with pride.

"We did it, Y/N!" he had said, his excitement palpable. "We’re finally free!" He hugged her and spun her around as Y/N giggled.

"Yeah, we are!" she had replied, feeling a mix of happiness and sadness at the thought of their lives changing.

She continued scrolling, each photo bringing back a flood of memories. There was the picture of them at his first major race win, where she had jumped into his arms in celebration. Another showed them sitting by the campfire during their family camping trip, the warmth of the flames reflected in their eyes as they shared stories late into the night.

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she relived each moment. Her silent sobs wrecked her delicate frame. She came across a photo from the night they had celebrated her birthday. Charles had surprised her with a cake, a beautiful pendant and they had spent the night dancing and laughing.

"Make a wish, Y/N/N!" he had said, holding the cake in front of her.

She had closed her eyes, silently wishing that they would always stay as close as they were then. The irony of that wish now felt like a cruel twist of fate.

Unable to hold back her emotions any longer, Y/N began to sob openly. The realization of how much she loved Charles and how much she would miss him was overwhelming. She was losing her best friend and it was all her fault. Her tears glistened and she tried to silence herself but all the memories came rushing back. Every hug, every time Charles made Y/N feel loved, every fight, every milestone. Her large golden retriever, Elvis, sensing her distress, jumped onto the bed and nuzzled his head into her lap.

"Oh, Eli," she cried, wrapping her arms around the dog's neck. "I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know how to let him go."

Elvis licked her face, his warm presence offering a small comfort in her despair. Y/N buried her face in his fur, her shoulders shaking with the intensity of her sobs.

"I love him so much, Eli," she whispered. "But I can’t stand the thought of being so close and not being able to tell him. I don't want to hurt their relationship. She is so lovely and he is so happy. They deserve this and here I am, making this about me. But I can't do it. I can't stay close because it just hurts too much."

She looked back at the screen, her vision blurred by tears. The next photo was one Charles had taken of her when she wasn’t looking. She was sitting by the water, lost in thought, with a serene smile on her face.

"He always captured the best moments, Elvis," she said to the empty room, her voice breaking. "He always know how to make me feel special."

Max whined softly, pressing closer to her, and she stroked his fur, finding some solace in his loyalty.

"I wish things could be different," she continued, her voice barely a whisper. "I wish I had the courage to tell him how I feel. But he’s happy with Camille, and I can't ruin that for him."

As she scrolled further, she found the last photo they had taken together, just a few days before he told her about Camille. They were sitting on his couch, watching a movie, their heads leaning against each other. It was the last time things had felt normal, the last time she hadn’t felt the crushing weight of her unspoken love.

"I’ll always cherish these memories Charles," she said, her voice trembling. "But I have to let you go. It’s the only way I can protect my heart."

With a final sob, she closed her laptop and buried her face in Elvis's fur, letting the weight of her decision wash over her. She knew it would take time to heal, but for now, all she could do was grieve the loss of the closeness they once shared.

taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercover @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @f1luvUr @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstuff

[modawg]

i feel like if rick keeps saying the timeline just goes with whatever timeline it is irl (more or less) so the characters don’t age outside of cannon then annabeth would be the biggest slooth and knew everything abt percy before he even came to camp using that computer they have in the back

if we’re saying technology ages with the irl timeline yk

like i just know pre tlt the moment annabeth found out abt that prophecy and chiron told her they might’ve found their guy she was looking that kid up IMMEDIATELY

like she was looking up first name last name middle initial school records public court records everything abt his mom his step dad yada yada yada like genuinely i just know she would’ve looked into all that shit

like she probably went to luke after chiron told her abt percy and was like “they think they found the kid from the prophecy”

“oh shit fr ?? when are they gonna bring him to camp?”

“oh idk..”

“damn well-“

“but his names perseus jackson he lives in manhattan new york he’s been kicked out of 5 schools so far- he’s my age his birthdays coming up pretty soon, august 18th, so he’s a leo- his moms sally jackson she married his guy gabriel ugliano a couple years ago and hes currently going to boarding school called yancy academy which is where grovers at rn and where chirons going tomorrow. his public records say he’s pretty small too i could prob pick him up, shorter then me by 2 inches😌”

“oh-“

“nothing abt his dad tho chiron won’t tell me :/“

“and when did he tell you all that??”

“he told me his name last night i’ve been at the computer all day there aren’t many ppl by the name perseus lmao”

“cool..so when perseus-“

“chiron said grover calls him percy”

“ok so when percy comes to camp how abt we make sure he doesn’t think ur a creep ok? and we’ll keep this all to ourselves”

“:/ ok”

“ok..cool..”

“do you wanna know his blood type? i already told the apollo kids :)”

“please no”

logistically ik you can say “mo she can’t do that bc the monsters >:(“ FUCK THOSE MONSTERS

their protected by thalias tree at this point and i feel like she’d be one of the only ppl with access to that computer anyway like they keep that thing pretty lock and key so i could see annabeth sticking her hat on and creeping her way to the computer every other night before percy came just so she could know exactly who they would be bringing to camp

hc that annabeths a freak and we love her for it

i will forever believe annabeth has a scary “percy” folder hidden under her bed with a bunch of shit abt him in there

emails he sent her ? printed and annotated check

anything written/drawn by him ? check

anything medical just incase ? check

random facts abt him she probably wrote when he was gone to make herself feel better ? check

your honour she’s a menace and she loves that boy

[achenetype]

Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday. 

You think you’re going to die. 

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

[eyesxxyou]

" Tender Peaches " ( j. miller )

rating. m

word count. 3.4k

synopsis. you've longed for Joel since you were young but being Sarah's best friend meant he was entirely off limits. until sarah invites you to the millers spring break camping trip and you finally get to have your way with him

warnings. No outbreak!, controversial age gap (reader is 19, Joel is nearing 40), implied fem reader, pining, predatory behavior (from reader), maneater reader, reader really can't take no for an answer, betrayal, guilt, tent sex, wilderness sex, kinda exhibitionism, oral (m. receiving), intercourse, cumshot on back, not proofread, not edited

It wasn't Joel's idea for you to come along on the Millers family camping trip. Sarah had insisted that you, her best friend and college roommate, be included. “They’ve been my best friend for years, since highschool. They’re family too.” You’ve been coming over to their house since you met Sarah at 16. You’ve been invited to every barbeque, every “family” outing, and have had countless sleepovers, giggling in Sarah's room into the late night about relationships and celebrity crushes. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to come with them to their camping trip.

If it had been any other time, Joel would have said you could come and that would have been the end of it. But it wasn't too long ago, on your 19th birthday, when you came on to him. You found him while Sarah was in the bathroom and admitted to him boldly that you’ve had a crush on him since you and Sarah became friends but you never said anything. Wanted to wait until you were all grown up before you did.

Joel didn't know what to say. He had never initially thought of you that way. You were too young. His eyes simply glazed over you and wrote you off entirely. But now you weren't so young, coming to him with all the tenderness of a lovesick girl. So when you kissed him, he did not refuse you. Your lips were soft and tasted fruity, like sweet peaches.

You broke away from him quickly when you heard the bathroom door open. It's been months and neither of you had brought it up, not even a peep.

But how could he say no to his babygirl who pleaded with him and begged like a puppy. So Joel conceited, agreeing that you could go with a kiss on her forehead that sealed his fate.

You were at the Miller house late the next evening with a bag slung over your shoulder. You hugged Sarah tight, chin resting on her shoulder, your eyes trained on Joel who tried his hardest not to catch your gaze. You watched him swallow hard, adams apple bobbing under the thin skin of his throat.

Tommy came from outside. “Here, darlin’, lemme grab your bags and toss ‘em in the back.” You broke from your hug with Sarah and handed him your bags. “Thanks, uncle Tommy.” You were so integrated with the Millers that you even called Tommy your uncle. Joel, however, was always “Mr. Miller”. What always used to seem so respectful and innocent now held a predatory, seductive inflection to it.

“Let's hit the road.” Joel brushed past you, his arm grazing yours. “Wanna get to the camp ground before dark.”

You and Sarah were in the backseat together, giggling and whispering amongst yourselves while Joel and Tommy sat in the front. The campgrounds were an hour and a half drive out of the city, all of which were spent with the sweet background noise of youthful laughter.

Joel glanced into the rearview mirror to look at you. You had your head tossed back, giggling at something Sarah had told you. Your smile was gleaming, your skin glowing under the broad sunlight. You were dressed in little shorts that hugged your hips and the curve of your ass right as well as a black tube top that showed off the straps of your red bikini top. Sarah had told you there was a lake and you planned on taking a swim.

You brought your head back down and managed to catch a glimpse of Joel’s gaze in the mirror. There was a subtle shift in your smile, one only Joel could recognize. It changed from carefree, childish joy to something far nefarious. He turned his head to face the window and you took the time to admire him, his scruffy brown beard and messy curls on his head. You liked his soft, down-turned eyes and his large, hooked nose. His lips which you once briefly tasted pressed into a thin line.

Arriving at the campground, you and Sarah hopped out of the back of the truck and took off running towards the lake in a fit of laughter while Joel and Tommy got to work unloading everything and setting stuff up. You stripped down to your swimming suit, a two-piece bikini tied at your hips and around your neck. You ran off the pier and jumped into the water with a scream while Sarah sat at the edge and dipped her feet in the water.

Spending around 20 minutes in the water with you, Sarah let out a sigh. “I’m bored. Gonna go help Dad and Uncle Tommy set up. Don’t drown while I'm gone.” 

You smiled. “Won't make any promises,” you teased, laughing as she splashes you with her foot before standing. She slipped her feet into her sandals and gave you one last glance and a grin before walking uphill towards your campsite to help set up tents with the Miller boys.

You swam about by yourself for a few minutes, floating on your back. Your mind swam with thoughts of Joel. You’ve been dropping hint after hint that you would, at any moment, give yourself over to him if he so desired. Maybe he was getting them and just ignoring them; you were his daughter's best friend after all. What kind of father fucks his daughter's friend? What kind of friend tries to fuck their friend’s dad?

You perked up at the sound of footsteps. Over the hill came Joel with his booted feet and lumbering steps. You swam to the pier to meet him as he squatted down at the edge. “Sarah wanted me to make sure you hadn't drowned.” That was a real, but feeble, excuse.

You put your arms up on the pier by his feet and looked up at him through long, wet lashes that clung together. “That so?” Joel hummed. “What else would I be here for, peach?” He’s called you “peach” ever since you kissed him, a wink and a nudge, a sweet callback, a sign that maybe this wasn't all one-sided.

“I don't know. You tell me.”

“I'm not playing this game with you.”

“What game?” You asked him with a few bats of your eyes, playing innocent. Joel’s jaw tightened as he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming down the hill or within range to hear him growl at you. He grabbed your arm and leaned in close. “You shouldn't have kissed me that day.”

You pouted, bottom lip jutted out dramatically. “Why not, Mr. Miller? I thought you liked it.”

“I-” Joel sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples. He did like it, too much maybe. Maybe he thought about it more than he should have, maybe the lingering taste of peaches on his lips made him hard. You could see it all over his face. “It’s wrong,” he tried to explain to you. “And I’m not doing this with you.” It’s the first acknowledgement you both have ever given to the situation since you kissed him.

You know if Sarah ever found out about your obsession with her father, she’d drop you fast and hate you forever. That should be reason enough for you to drop your crush on him all together. But you just can't, not when you know that a small part of him wanted you to.

“I think I’m done swimming.” You got out of the lake and hopped up on the pier, allowing Joel to step back before you stood up, dripping wet. Droplets cling to your body, rolling down the curves and valleys of your skin. You are no little girl, not with that body, not with the tenacious hunger you possessed for him.

You took your clothes and walked back to camp with Joel trailing behind, stealing shameful glances at your body.

Camp was mostly set up by the time you were done swimming. The tents were set up, Tommy was working on getting a fire going while Sarah lounged in a fold up chair, snacking on a bag of chips. “Me and you are sharing a tent.” She pointed to the gray one to the side.

“I’m gonna take this stuff off and change. I’ll be back.” You glance back at Joel, watching the way he purposely ignored you to go help Tommy who was struggling with the fire.

You were in the tent for only a few minutes before coming out in the same tiny blue, jean shorts you were wearing before and a crimson red camisole top. You had tied your hair back to expose your supple neck, stepped out in strap sandals. You were pretty.

Joel could just light himself on fire to avoid this mess you’ve created for him. You were far too young for a man his age. Even if that wasn't a problem, Sarah loved you like a sister and would be heartbroken if she knew he had done anything with you. She'd hate the both of you forever. God, why must you do this?

Night came fast over your campsite. The fire crackled and popped before your eyes as you roast marshmallows for s’mores and reflect on past memories spent together. Sarah leaned up against her father who kept his arm around her and kissed her head tenderly. Her eyes weighed heavy with sleepiness.

“Go to bed, baby.” Joel nudged her softly. You decided you’d take her to your shared tent and tuck her into her sleeping bag. It would get her out of the way temporarily. It’s easier to get at Joel when Sarah isn't keeping you apart.

You stayed with her in the tent with her head in your lap while she slowly fell away into slumber. You waited, listened to the fire and the soft murmuring of Joel and Tommy. You were sure Tommy said something about heaving off to his tent to get to sleep and that him and Joel would go fishing in the morning. Old men.

You waited, hoping, praying that Joel hadn't gone to his tent as well. And when you were sure Sarah was fast asleep, you slipped out from under her and left out of your tent to go back to the fire. Much to your relief, Joel was still there, roasting a single marshmallow crispy.

“You waiting for me, Mr. Miller?”

Joel put down his stick slowly and laced his fingers. He didn't look at you, his face firm and stoic. He wouldn't give himself away. He couldn't. He said nothing to you, not even as you came over and sat down beside him. You pressed your side to his, looking at him with your doe-ish eyes and tonguing at your fiendish lips.

“Please don't tell me I’m crazy.”

Joel finally looks at you, his eyes softening. He ran a hand down his face with a stressful sigh. “You’re not crazy, peach. You’re very pretty and as much as I’d like to show you a good time, you’re too young.” You move closer to him, pressing your whole body to his. You took his hand in yours and slid it under your shirt, bringing it to your bare chest where you were very well-developed.

You leaned into him, your nose grazing his. “I’m old enough to know how much I want you. Old enough for you to not get in trouble for ‘showing me a good time’.” You were so soft. His hand groped at you, your softness. Joel knew he should stop, rip his hand from you and tell you off for good, but he wondered if your lips still tasted like peaches.

Lips so close, he could almost taste you, Joel whispered, “but Sarah.”

“Sarah doesn’t have to know.” 

You leaned in and pressed your lips to Joel’s. You liked the way his lips fit with yours, all soft and sweet and timid. All he could think about was how your lips still tasted the same and you still kissed him with the eager zeal of a young girl with her long time crush. You pressed yourself into him and slid your hands into his hair, burning your fingers in the thicket of his loose curls.

You pressed your tongue to the seam of Joel’s lips and he offered no resistance as you pushed into his mouth and felt his tongue on yours. His hands gripped your waist under your shift and pulled you ever closer. You let out a muffled gasp into his mouth as he stroked his tongue against yours. It was a messy affair, desperate, quiet gasps between hushed whispers about being quiet.

“We should go to your tent.” You murmured against his lips, breaking away from the kiss. You let his hands slip from under your shirt as you stood. With a smile, gleaming and mischievous, you backed into his green tent and slipped away behind the door flap. You coaxed Joel in with your promise of young, thoroughly athletic sex, and like a fish to a hook, he took the bait.

He followed you into his tent, zipping up the flap behind him before turning back to you. He could barely see you, just your silhouette pulling off your shirt over your head and fiddling with the button to your shorts. Joel took the time to find his flashlight and turn it on, setting it to the side.

By the time his eyes adjusted to the light, you were topless, in just a pair of white, cotton panties. You were the prettiest little thing Joel ever did see. He coaxed you towards him, made you sit in his lap, and kissed you with his fingers playing with the band of your pretty, little panties. You kissed him hard, hips rolling against the fly of his jeans.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head and tossing elsewhere in the corner of the tent. You kissed at Joel’s neck. “Lemme suck your cock. Please, Mr. Miller?” You whisper into his ear, licking the lobe as your hands rub across his thick belt, slowly working it undone.

Joel was salivating, breathing hard and heavy. He nodded slowly with a sigh and watched you slide off of his lap and onto your knees between his legs. You could see the growing outline of his cock pressed down the pant leg of his jeans. He let you work his restraints free and pull out his cock without so much as a moment to stop you.

You were licking in no time. His cock resting on your face as you licked a single long vein that led from his heavy balls to the leaky tip of his cock. You look him in the eyes through the dim lighting as you take his tip into your mouth and suckle sweetly, tongue stroking at his slit. You take a sick pleasure in watching Joel struggle to keep quiet, biting his lip as he glares at you.

You let your mouth fall open slack and pushed your head down. Your throat was open to him, taking him in with quiet gurgles and choking. Joel placed his hand on your head and tossed his head back against the fabric of the tent. “You keep it up, peach.” He hissed through his teeth as you took him further and further with a few ‘gluck’s and teary eyes. You were far too good at this as you pressed your nose into his bush and swallowed his cock down like a bad girl.

You’re too good at this, too good. A skilled little minx with that tongue of yours with doe eyes that don't seem so innocent anymore. You were lying on your stomach, kicking your feet in the air, glucking down his cock like it was your favorite flavor of lollipop. You were taking too much joy in this. After all, you’ve been dreaming of doing this since you met him at your childish age of 16, the blooming of your adolescent sexuality all focused on him.

And when you took him from your throat, stroking him in your hand, you got up from your lying position and kissed Joel again, all tongue and teeth and peachy lips. You hummed into his mouth, tasting like fruit and precum. 

Leaning back, you parted your legs and slipped off your panties, tossing them to him with your foot. Joel caught the cotton in his hands and swiftly tossed it to the side as he came crawling towards you.

You both were naked in no time, kissing too much to know the difference between his lips and yours. Joel flipped you over so you lay with your face pressed into his sleeping bag, back arched perfectly to lead to your temping ass waving so deliciously in front of him.

You looked back at him, begging him to take it, pushing yourself into him to feel the thickness of his length tapping against your ass. “Come on, Mr. Miller. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

Joel couldn't waste any time easing his way inside of you, nice and slick. You were nothing short of pure heaven, all nice and tight and perfect. He stifled a groan as he pushed into your little paradise and found serene salvation as he bottomed out. It took everything within him not to groan out as he gripped your hips and pulled your ass into him.

You giggled into his sleeping bag that smelled so much like him it made you dizzy. He stretched you out good, like you've always dreamed of. This might not have been your first time fucking but this surly might be the best. Joel stroked your sides as he rolled his hips into your ass and told you, “be quite now, peach.”

You take over all the control, pushing your ass back into him before pulling yourself off and repeating the whole deal all over again. Barely hanging by a thread, Joel met you in the middle with shallow thrust and roaming, groping hands. He gripped the pretty fattiness at your hips with an iron-clad grip, his only semblance of control over himself, while you fisted at his sleeping bag.

His fat cock bullied its way into you, stretching and claiming every square inch of you. You whined, pressing your face into the sleeping bag to keep quiet. “Oh– Mr. Miller!” You pushed back and fucked him hard and he fucked you back with just as much zeal.

“You better keep quiet or one of ‘em are gonna hear us.” Joel hissed, his hand on the back of your skull to keep you pressed into the ground, the other in your hip to keep you moving even as they suffered uncontrollably.

He touched just the right spots to make you cum fast and hard. You were seeing stars, blotty spots in your vision made you feel lightheaded. Your body trembled in an uncontrollable fashion, the sweet relief of an orgasm right on the cusp. You were a squealing, whining mess all tangled up in nylon fabric trying your best to keep quiet while you take the first dick you’ve ever wanted in your life. It was a dream come true.

Joel pulled his cock out of you fast, before he could cum inside. He stroked his cock against the curve of your ass until he came along your spine in wet, white splatters. It was warm against your back. You giggled to yourself, curving your back and wiggling your ass against his softening cock.

Joel knew this was bad, so very bad. But something about its inherently taboo nature made the orgasm all the better. He’d have you for one night, indulge himself just this very once, and then he’d never look at you again. You’d go back to being Sarah's best friend, he’d go back to being Sarah's father, and everything would be as they should be.

You used your shirt to clean off your back, murmuring something about changing into your spare one when you get back to your tent with Sarah. Joel was silent, unsure of what exactly he should say as you slip your clothes back on. He was shell shocked, worse than a world war 2 veteran.

And if all things, you kissed him, gently, like you knew this was a hard thing for him to swallow. All the while, you tasted like tender peaches, blushing with shame.

[madwomansapologist]

in the afterglow (of an orgy) | bg3 companions x tav

cw: i'm not catholic but i feel like i sinned with this. gangbang turns into a orgy: the most dangeous polycule in the making. established relationships/developing relationships. m/m, f/f, m/f. cum swallowing. i am just a whore for tavrem.

an: happy 1th bg3 anniversary! i already love those characters more than i love my brother (wink wink). a bit late, my mom's birthday was my priority, but there we go!

They almost broke you.

You could still feel it all. A sort of discomfort that can only exist after immense pleasure. Those lingering touches on your burned skin. The deep bites collaring your neck, scratches on your back and nape. Dried tears staining your cheeks. Raw lips, just like the insides of your thighs.

Will you still feel it all tomorrow? Will their kisses, bites, slaps, hands, still be covering your body once you have to come back to old harsh life? Oh, yes, it will. That pain and pleasure inflicted on you won't suddenly dissapear. It will fade eventually, but you will still have bruises to gaze upon for some time. You prefer it that way. Everytime it aches, you'll think about them.

But not now. For now, there is nothing on your mind. Not a worry, not a memory, not a dream: all you have is moonlight's embrace and the warmth of the bonfire.

Such a loud silence took over the camp. As if it could even be called silence. Heavy breathing and soft whimperings. Moans so loud they still eccho into their heads. Such a filthy harmony.

"Hells", Wyll was the first to speak. He couldn't say much more than that.

Karlach groaned, her throat let out a sob almost palpable. Her whole body burned hotter. Smoke came out of her mouth, and Wyll wondered where she found the cigar. When. If she had more to spare. "More like heavens."

It wasn't planned. It wasn't expected. It was a hard day, and it turned into a cold night. In some moment in between those two, someone had to start it. This. Not that any of them could remember who did.

It was normal for you to kiss one of them when surrounded by the others, but you were always aware of the weight of their gaze. Some prefer to pretend it wasn't happening—Gale and Karlach would suddenly find something so interesting in their hands to look at. Others would enjoy it—Shadowheart and Wyll know how the other taste, and have shared a fair amount of wine watching you with Astarion.

And still, there was a line you decided to not cross. A point where you would stop, no matter with who you were, no matter who surrounded you. They all respected it, just like you did theirs. Shadowheart would tease, some would pout, but none would make you feel less than safe with them.

But then, someone had to start this. They really can't remember, the beggining of the night dizzy and so far away, but somehow they know who decided to do that. You. It could only be you.

Gale put on his navy robe, his cheeks burning brighter than the bonfire. Once he disappeared inside his tent, Astarion rolled his eyes and went back to watch the stars.

He knew it would make things too complicated. Shit, he knew it, but he wanted it. Wasn't it already difficult to be with you? It took him too long to understand you, to trust you, and now because of a night he might have weakened his bond with all other companions.

Not that they even matter that much. You're the strongest between them. Astarion needs to be safe, and you proved again and again that you can do that. Let the others suck on their own insecurities. Astarion will make sure to have you by his side when he avenges himself.

Lying to himself won't change the fact Astarion chose to do everything he did. It was all a choice. Every kiss, every bite, every thrust. And so did that damned wizard. Astarion will keep on lying to himself, pretending not to notice as his heart shatters once more.

Then he felt the blanket over his skin. Astarion opened his eyes, and this time he couldn't look away from the mark on Gale's neck. "Oh, darling, you can be sweet", Astarion bit his tongue. "Unlike your blood."

Gale sighed. He kneeled besides you, covering your body. You were already dozzing off, but he saw a tiny smile spreading across your face. "How you feeling, my love?"

"Gross", you whispered. Gale chuckled, his thumb carressed your lips. You knew your whole body was covered in cum, but you couldn't care less once he licked his finger. "I can still feel you inside me. All of you."

A cold hand touched yours. Shadowheart was the last to get tired enough to stop. Her leg is intertwined with yours, now covered thanks to Gale, her knees stiff against your core.

"You've been so good", her voice, so soft, felt like a lullaby. You gazed at her lips. Such tender words for someone who rode your face calling you a whore. "What do you want, lover?"

Supporting yourself on your elbows, you tried to get up. Once your clit brushed against her knee, you whimpered. Shadowheart stared at you, and Gale held your arms. "I'll get clean", you said, waiting for them to give you space to move.

"Not so fast, dove", Shadowheart sat, the blanket falling and revealing her beautiful body. She was as burned as you. "You took all of us. If you can walk, then I will be scared."

Gale sat besides you, supporting you on his chest. You were sat now, but not any closer to getting up. "You are a sight", he whispered against your ear. "Let us care for you."

"I feel dirty", you said. "I just want to get clean."

Wyll raised from his spot, and Karlach watched as he walked away from her. She felt the lack of his weight on her chest.

She still burns. Less than she used to, but she does. And yet, there is not a person without the markes of her hands and lips. Karlach burned every single one of you, and no one wanted her to stop.

Karlach is used to feeling cold. It was so lonely and for so long. That's the first time in a while she feels hot and it isn't a bad thing.

"Is that a pout?" She teased. You wanted for her to be closer to you, but by the way her legs tremble you knew Karlach couldn't move. So did you. "Don't make me bite it out of you. Sit down and relax. You fucking earned it."

Wyll came back carrying towels and soap. Watching him, you relaxed against Gale's body. He kneeled in between your legs, and the first thing he did was to kiss your forehead.

"They are right", Wyll joined them in this little quest of preventing you from moving. "You've been so good. For all of us. Now let us take care of you, doll."

Wyll then kissed your knuckles, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. As if you both didn't knew his cum was deep inside your ass.

"Astarion, get her something to eat", a voice from behind you made you shiver. "Gale, we need a bath. You can warm water, can't you Shadowheart?"

"Oh, dear Lae'zel, I fear I can't." Shadowheart rolled her eyes, moving her hands as a rune appeared on the floor.

They can banter for however longer they want it. Everyone knows how long they spend fighting one another to ensure they would be on top. Between the two of them, it was more a battle than sex.

Exactly what you said they needed.

A purple glow you saw by the corner of your eyes worked as a telltale of Gale's magic. Only when you saw the bath floating until it reached the runes you understood it. They were about to bath you.

The camp was no longer silent. Watching the chaos of it all, Astarion chuckled to himself and went after something for everyone to eat.

Nothing changed.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

baldur's gate 3 taglist: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[hrtsdevils]

dog-eared. | jh86

summary reader and jack broke up before he was drafted to the nhl. after years of watching from afar, jack finally sees y/n in person. past feelings are brought up to the surface.

pairing jack hughes x fem!reader

wc 2.6k

an my lovers… also another gracie fc sorry idk what to tell you! also for the sake of the plot pretend that the devils play the ducks on tuesday instead of vancouver thanks!!! loosely based off of everywhere everything by noah kahan ft gracie abrams

It had been years since you’d seen Jack. You broke up right before he started his NHL career as it seemed like your plans didn’t align. You’d be going to college in California, as USC had been your dream school your whole life. You dreamed of living somewhere where it was sunny and it was never freezing, unlike the weather in your hometown of Toronto. He dreamed of making it big in the professional league, which he was so close to achieving already.

The breakup between you two was mostly mutual. It happened in your 2005 Honda Civic, in the parking lot of a gas station after you had gone to buy soft drinks. The two of you could feel the breakup impending, and it felt as if the weather channel told you a meteor would be hitting Earth within minutes. As if the sun was about to collapse. The silence was deafening as you started your car, putting your drink in the cup holder. He followed suit.

“I..” He started before you cut him off.

“You think we need to break up?” You asked, giving him a soft smile. It wasn’t genuine, it was quite the opposite. You just didn’t want him to feel guilty, you thought it was the right thing as well.

He nodded softly, “I just think we’re on two separate paths… you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Your hands tensed under your thighs, as you were using them as hand warmers. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttons.” That had been his nickname for you since the 8th grade. You had a perfect little button nose, and it quickly caught on and everybody would use it for you as well.

The drive back to his parents’ house was in silence, as neither of you had much to say to each other. In about ten minutes, you were parked in front of his house. “You’re still going to come to my birthday party, right?” You asked. You were turning eighteen in a few weeks, June 7th.

“Yeah, I will.” He smiled sadly, “It’s not over. We’re just separating until we get brought back together.”

You huffed, “When’s that? Whenever fate decides?”

“Precisely. Call it a dog ear.. you like to read, right?”

“Yeah, I would never doggy ear my books though.” You giggled, “Bye, Jacky.”

That was the last you talked formally. He never did come to your party, texting you an excuse about how he had a training camp that day. You didn’t believe it, but you never said anything about it. It had been years, you watched him succeed from your dorm room and then to your small apartment couch. Your roommates never understood your love for the sport, but you always attributed it to being from up north.

That was a reason, but not the only one.

Every year you anticipated the Devils coming down to Anaheim to play the Ducks. That was practically the only time you watched Jack in person. You were particularly excited this year, as his little brother Luke would be playing too. You adored Luke, he was so sweet and well-mannered, especially to you. Trevor would also be there. He wouldn’t be playing as he was injured, but you’d caught him after a few games to catch up and he was your little piece of Michigan in California.

It was a Friday game, which met that the tickets were slightly higher and there were fewer of them. You finally got your good friend, Cecilia, to agree to go with you. She was familiar with your love of hockey, and she knew you went to a lot of games. She didn’t know you knew two players on the ice, and two players up in the press box. As you were buying your tickets with her, you got a text from Trevor.

trevor zegras 🐣 : hey buttons r u coming to the game? idk cause jacks playing

You hastily replied, trying to shield your phone from Cece in the most subtle way possible.

y/n buttons : yeahhhh i was jst about to buy my tickets bahaha

trevor zegras 🐣 : don’t buy them ❌❌ i have a club ticket right above the benches if u want it

y/n buttons : usually yes i’d love to but i’m bringing my friend cece

trevor zegras 🐣 : i have 2! i’ll send em to u later

y/n buttons : thanks trev i appreciate u ☺️

You put your phone down and closed your laptop. Cece was a couple feet away on hers, but looked at you when your laptop snapped shut. “Did you buy them?” She questioned, scooting closer to you. You shook your head.

“Kind of? Well, one of my friends is on the team and he’s injured, he offered us seats right behind the bench.”

Her jaw fell slightly, “You never told me you had connections!”

You smiled, “I don’t really, I usually buy my tickets. This was a first time thing, I think he might be drunk.” You tried to explain it in the least suspicious way possible. You didn’t want to seem boastful, but an explaination had to come from somewhere.

You two discussed the arrangements for a couple minutes longer. From outfits to hair to transportation, you were more excited for this game than you had been for any others. Maybe it was because it was Jack’s team, or maybe it was because someone finally seemed to share your admiration for the sport.

Who knows, it was probably the latter.

The day came quick, as it was only a day or two out from your initial conversation. The tickets usually dropped in price right before the game, but luckily you didn’t have to spend the money on it regardless. You lended Cece a Zegras jersey that he got you, while you chose to wear an unnamed 30th anniversary jersey. You still had a few hoodies with Jack’s last name on the back, from his time with USNDTP, but you wouldn’t be wearing those tonight.

You arrived shortly before warm-ups, but when you looked at your section and seat numbers you realized Trevor wasn’t lying about you being right behind the bench. He just never mentioned that it was the away bench. You watched from your seat as the boys entered from the tunnel. They weren’t facing you, but you watched to make sure they didn’t turn around at least not now.

You managed to go a little while without being seen by Luke or Jack, that was until Cecelia got extremely into the game. The Devils had a goal in the late first period, opening up the scoring. Luke was sitting on the bench about a foot to the left of Cece, and once they scored she started banging on the glass.

As he stood up to cheer, he turned around due to the banging. The first thing he did was make eye contact with you. His eyebrows raised, and he blinked as if you’d disappear when his eyes opened. He didn’t say anything as you tried to avoid his gaze, and simply turned back around.

The game continued on, and you didn’t see him say anything to Jack. Soon enough, it was intermission and you felt safer. Like eyes weren’t on you anymore, even though they never were. It went by fairly quickly as the two of you watched the silly halftime games that usually were played by young children. As soon as the Devils came back through the tunnel, Jack turned around and looked at you. He kept sneaking glances as they warmed up again before the start of the second.

The rest of the game wasn’t as fun, as the brunette kept staring at you. As if you couldn’t go to hockey games, his hockey games. As if he couldn’t help looking at you. As if he missed you.

It didn’t help that Cece kept shouting at you, telling you that the cute one kept staring at you and that he wanted you. You knew her best interest was at heart, but she had no idea the magnitude of your situation with said cute one. You entertained her teasing of you, and how she kept pointing at you everytime Jack glanced your way.

By the end of the game you were over it. You wanted to escape and go home before the off chance that you ran into Jack actually happened. It was relieving when you got into the car, but startling when your phone lit up with a single message from Jack. Cece was giggling to herself, looking up one of the cute guys she saw on Instagram. She was oblivious to the situation

jack hughes : hi why were u there

You tried to think of an excuse, but eventually you realized it wouldn’t matter if you told the truth or not.

buttons 🩷 : because i was given tix my trevor.. and i go to a lot of ducks games

jack hughes : oh no other reason?

buttons 🩷 : u think i went for u?

jack hughes : maybe a little. sorry for bothering u buttons.

buttons 🩷 : don’t be sorry. how long are you in anaheim?

jack hughes : tonight n then flying up to seattle

buttons 🩷 : where r u staying?

It was a twenty minute drive back up to your apartment, but with your speeding it was around seventeen. Cece didn’t question your urgency as you dropped her off at your shared apartment, and left immediately after. She was a little bit tipsy. As you drove to the Marriott in Anaheim, you thought about what you were doing.

Throwing away years of peace for the same boy who disrupted it all those years ago. If you started to have feelings for him again, who knows how much you life could be uprooted? Everything could be ruined. All the progress and the getting over Jack. Your Jack. You knew you were risking your own personal journey by going to see him, but at this point you didn’t care.

The hotel receptionist was reluctant to let you up, as she knew who was staying there. The skepticism on her face was present from the very moment you walked in.

“Look, I know him and I know his room number, so can you just let me go up?” You pleaded with hed. Going to a room usually wasn’t necessarily an issue, the issue here was that a sports team was staying. She might’ve thought you were a crazy stalker fan.

As she was about to answer, Jack exited the elevator and spotted you talking to the receptionist. “She’s with me.” He told her, as he walked up to the desk. “Thanks, though.” You had texted him a minute prior about the receptionist, but you didn’t expect him to rush down.

“Hi.” You breathed as you made your way toward the elevator, “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good.” He stopped before the elevator, “Would you rather go for a drive? I’m sharing a room with Luke.”

Your story paused in a car, so you were unsure how this would turn out. Maybe it will be different this time. “Sure.” You replied softly.

You two walked to your car in silence. You were about to get in the driver’s seat, but he insisted on driving. “You should drive slow around here, there’s a bunch of cops at night because of drunk college students.” You chuckled, “I’ll tell you when you can speed.”

You buckled up, and he started your car. It was an upgrade from your Honda, being a more recent model of a Nissan. “So, why’d you come to the game?” He asked as he pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot.

“I go to a lot of Duck’s games. Trevor plays, of course I go watch him.” You started, “He offered me club tickets, and I figured they were behind his bench. They weren’t, obviously.”

“So you didn’t go for me?” He questioned once again, “I don’t believe that, Buttons.”

You rolled your eyes, “I kind of did. I’ve been while you were playing for the last three years, but I still like hockey in general.”

“I’ll believe that.” The silence sat for a little while as he drove 25 down the city roads, the radio wasn’t even playing. “Do you think we could’ve done long distance?”

You shook your head, “No, not then at least. That’s why we broke it off. Maybe now.” You said the last part quieter, just enough so that if he wasn’t paying attention he wouldn’t have heard it.

But of course he was paying attention. You were his everything before, and possibly even now.

“Now?” He questioned, “What do you mean by that?”

“When we broke up, you said our page was dog-eared. Bookmarked. It was more like a pause until we were ready and mature, or at least that’s how I took it.”

He smiled, “I remember that. Do you think we’re ready and mature?”

You shrugged, looking at him. “Maybe, just this semester and then I’m done. I chose to graduate a semester early. I could move back east, we could be closer. Even without I think we’d be mature enough for long distance.”

The chances of this moment happening just weeks before you graduated was an alignment of the stars in itself. This could be everything you wanted, without disrupting your peace.

“If you need a place to stay, you can always stay with me and Luke.” He offered, “To get on your feet, if you come back.”

“Maybe.” You hummed. His hand was resting on the gear shift, even though it was an automatic. You made a move to lay your hand on top of his, squeezing it gently.

It was a soft step in the right direction. A step to getting the love of your life back, which is what you’d wanted since the minute you broke it off. It’s been a long three years without him, he was your best friend and you intended to make up for the lost time soon enough. You wouldn’t bring up how he never contacted you either, because it was far in the past. You were both kids at the time and you can’t hold a grudge about that.

As he re-entered the hotel parking lot, you smiled at him. Your hands were now intertwined on top of the cup holder region, and you never wanted to let go. His hand was more rugged than before, matured and weathered, but it was still a comfort you had missed. He dropped it to shift the car into park.

“So, I’ll see you soon then?” He asked, as you got ready to get out. 45 minutes had passed between getting into the car and now. You conversed about your current life and your future. Your future together.

You nodded, “Yeah, hopefully. Keep in touch, okay? No ghosting me.” You stepped out of the car and walked around to the driver's side as he got out as well.

The two of you shared a hug, but exchanged little words. You could hear the cars around you, and the sounds of the city were still alive. “Bye, Jack.” You released him from your embrace.

“Bye, Buttons.” He smiled, “I’ll text you.” He turned around and walked back to the hotel as you watched, a smile gracing your features as well.

You’d love him forever, whether you got back together or not. You believed he felt the same. You were glad that Trevor had known about the seating on the tickets, and made sure they got to you. You were also glad Luke saw and recognized you. You were excited to see him. The end was over, and the new start was just beginning.

[wosoamazing]

The Transfer

Summary: You move to Barca.

Warnings: None I don't think

A/N: Google translated Spanish so I apologies if it is incorrect, hope you like it. Also as usual feel free to send requests, whether it is for this Series or for kid!readers, or something else. Hope you like it.

You run to Leah when you see her, and give her a massive hug, you missed her, camp was hard, especially the second last day. There was a conversation you needed to have with her, you didn’t want to risk her finding out from someone else, so you decided to just start it right there and then in the airport.

“We need to talk about something, Le.”

“Go to Barca.”

“What?” you exclaim looking up at her, surely you heard her wrong.

“Go to Barca, you deserve it Bug, you’re amazing, go to Barca, you can always come back, Arsenal will take you back in a heartbeat, any club would take you back in a heartbeat, but you’re not going to want to come back, and I’ll visit I promise, and we can put daily facetime calls in our calendar for the first few weeks. Call me whenever you need, I’ll pick up the phone. But the girls are lovely there, and you will have Lucy and Kiera.”

“Wait, so you’re saying go? How did you find out?”

“Of course I’m saying go, it’s Barca, and the finding out part, well Alexia messaged asking if I knew anything I said no, asked Lucy and Kiera and they were like ‘yeah she spoke to us about what the people were like, and the environment etc we thought you knew’ Millie then walked in and was like ‘Guy’s shit just went down at the Matildas camp, might want to check your sister is okay though Leah’, Millie than told us what Sam told her and yeah”

“So, you’re not mad I didn’t ask you first?”

“No, I’m proud, you asked the right people the right questions, you stood up for yourself, you manage to do some pretty hard ball negotiations, and you didn’t let anyone make the decision for you, you stayed true to yourself, and I’m proud.”

_____

“Ready to go?” Lucy asks as your suitcases are loaded into the back of the car, you nod you had just played friendlies against the Lionesses in England, so at least the travel there was short, however the travel back to your club was going to be a bit longer, as you weren’t returning to Arsenal but to Barca.

“I feel sick,” Kiera moaned as she came out to join you and Lucy.

“Yeah, I told you to stop drinking, why do you think we didn’t drink.”

“Ah because she is still a week and one year underage, and you I don’t know, because you don’t know how to let loose and have fun,” Kiera replies. Last night some of your national and club teammates as well as some Leah’s national teammates had a party in your honour, to celebrate you going to Barca and to celebrate your Birthday, which was in a week.

_____

It was your first night staying at Lucy and Kiera’s and somehow it was conveniently team bonding night at their place. It didn’t seem like a coincidence at all. You were really nervous to meet the team, they all knew each other already, this was the first time you were joining a team that you were completely new in, when you joined Arsenal you already knew the girls really well because of Leah, and then when you joined the Matildas you had Steph, Kyra and Caitlin, but this was different.

You had stayed quiet for most of the night, watching the game, trying not to draw attention to yourself, however that was all unravelled when Mapi sighed “Estúpido Àrbitro. Eso fue claramente una falta.” (Stupid Referee, that was clearly a foul)

“Casi fue tarjeta amarilla.” (almost was a yellow card)

Everyone heads turned to you, and their jaws dropped. “You know Spanish?”

“Ah, well a bit, mainly to do with the game, one of my Friend’s Dad’s is Spanish and they talk Spanish at home, especially when he is watching the game.”

“Leah never told me that,” Lucy remarked, “Leah doesn’t necessarily know” “oh, so is this a friend or a friend.”

“Lucy leave the poor kid alone,” Kiera told her off.

“So it is a special friend,” “Is she, or he, cute?” “Do you have a photo?” the girls all asked at once.

“Girls, as Kiera said, leave the poor kid alone, she just got here” Alexia told them, they all shut up immediately.

_____

“Oh, Bebita, what’s wrong?” Alexia asks you as she walks into the locker room, you were slumped back in your locker, leaning against the wall, “come here”, she says as she drags you up and brings you in for a hug, in which you broke, tears start to stream down your face as you try to get out of Alexia’s grip, it was only your third day at Barcelona and yet here you were crying in front of your new captain. Alexia only tightened her grip at your actions cooing “It’s okay, I’m here,” rubbing your back slightly. “How about we sit down,” she sat down and pulled you into her lap, you rested your head on her shoulder, giving into her.

“I-I miss Le,” You sobbed into her shoulder.

“I know, its okay Bebita, we’re here,” Alexia could never understand completely how you felt but she could imagine, she could see how close you and Leah were which wasn’t surprising considering you had been living with her for the past six years but leaving her and only seeing her through the phone was something you were struggling with, and the team had started to notice it, you were always slightly sadder when you re-joined the team after being on the phone with Leah.

_____

You woke up and looked at the clock, it was 9:00am, ‘shit’ you mumble to yourself, you sprung out of your bed before flopping back into it, after having the realisation that you didn’t have training today, you had a game last night, which you played in, it was much tougher than the games at Arsenal, so you were exhausted.

It was only then that you took in your surrounds, there were balloons scattered around your room, and on the floor, there were little present signs with arrows. You quickly got yourself semi presentable before following the presents, they lead you into the living room, all your new teammates were there. “Surprise!” they all yelled whilst someone exploded one of those confetti guns, you were in fact surprised, you had been at Barca a week, you were expecting something low key with Lucy and Kiera not a whole team affair, “Come sit,” Lucy said tapping the empty section of couch between her and Alexia, as you walked over you couldn’t help but notice the pile of presents on the coffee table, you had already received gifts from your family and arsenal teammates, so these had to be from your Barca teammates but you couldn’t really believe it.

“You got these all for me?” you questioned in disbelief.

“Yes, they are all for you,” Alexia tells you before handing you a gift, “here open.”

You eventually finished making your way through the present pile and thanked everyone profusely.

However, while you thanked everyone Alexia walked in with three more presents, these ones were quite heavy. “Don’t open them yet, I just need to call someone,” whoever she was calling answered, and then she handed the phone to you, it was Leah and Lia, “Happy Birthday Bug! We may have some surprises for you, open the skinny rectangular one first. It’s from Katie, she wanted you to have it on your actual Birthday, make it more special” you opened it up and grinned it was a whoop, “tell her I like it please, and that I said thank you.”

“Will do bug, now the smaller of the two remaining was Lia’s idea, but both presents are from us” you opened the two gifts and at the sight of them tears left your eyes, “T-thank you,” your sister and Lia had just gifted you a new Mac Book Pro and a new iPhone. Ingrid moved closer to you and hugged you, knowing it was what you needed. After getting ready the rest of your morning was filled with fun festivities as the girls made sure to spoil you, however it was time to start getting ready to go out for dinner, so everyone returned to their own homes in agreeance they would all meet there, waiting for everyone to be there before they went in.

As you walked into the restaurant with the team Lucy whispered to you, “there may be one more surprise,” she gestured her head over to the massive table in the restaurant, where two familiar figures sat, you couldn’t control yourself and run over to them. “Hi Bug, glad you’re happy to see us,” Leah said hugging you “we missed you” Lia said now hugging you.

“I missed you too” you said before you sat down between them, you were grinning from ear to ear. “How are you here?” “Oh, this was all Alexia’s doing, she planned it all.” You looked over to you captain who winked at you, maybe Barca wasn’t going to be so bad after all.