#sunshine!verse

Part One Part Two.

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: underage alcohol use, minor injuries, angst, denying feelings, surprise kisses

Summary: you and Luke go to a party and some things happen while you’re under the influence.

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.

And then the fun would begin.

The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.

Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.

He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.

You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.

How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.

Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”

He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.

He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.

But instead you kissed others.

Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.

His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.

You stayed still.

Still.

Still.

Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.

“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“

You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.

And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.

“Get some, Castellan!”

“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”

And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-

He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.

“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.

——————————————

So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.

He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”

“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”

“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.

“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.

“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.

“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.

The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.

“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”

“What?”

You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.

You met him once again.

It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.

You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.

He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.

But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.

“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”

“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“

No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.

He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.

Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.

————————————————-

The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.

He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.

And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.

The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.

He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.

That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.

He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.

“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“

“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.

What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.

Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.

“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.

You wouldn’t even meet them.

“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”

And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.

Part Two Part One

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: character death, depression, lots of crying.

Summary: you’re still feeling awkward about what happened that night with Luke. And then you get the news that changes everything.

Days passed, days since your ki- hang out with Luke. 

Hang out? Who were you kidding? It was clear it wasn’t him. 

But you’d laid yourself bare to him, been about to confess all your feelings and he had just shut you down and run away. 

Of course you didn’t wanna talk about it in the morning. 

The tragedy was he did. 

And just when you were feeling better, and your conversations weren’t so awkward, fate tossed you to the ground again, as it often did. You still didn’t really believe it. 

Cecilia, your cabin counsellor, your beloved older sister had died on the road to college. It seemed impossible. 

Of course, they’d had a brief ceremony, a burning of a golden yellow shroud weaved with her own fingers. And then they’d appointed you as cabin counsellor, announced a bunch of new kids had arrived and everyone forgot. 

It made you sick to think people would forget Cecilia. That the three Apollo kids your cabin had greeted would grow up without her and never know of her presence.

Obviously, your cabin was upset, but they didn’t make it so as Aphrodite always did. The sun keeps shining, and Apollo kids kept going, laughing, training, even if muffled sobs could be heard the first few nights. They never talked of her, and after the first week, she was a sad little scar that had scabbed. 

It still hurt a little, but the memory was what hurt the most. 

Except for you. She was still a mortal, lethal wound for you. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure and pretend everything was okay. 

Shortly, it all cracked and spilled out from you. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault really. Chiron was just trying to be supportive to little Will, but when he praised enthusiastically that he was the best archer he’d scene for 300 years, tears seemed to burst from you. 

Because that had been Cecilia’s title. She had been the best archer, training all the little ones supportively and making people gasp with the precision of her shots. 

It seemed Chiron had already forgotten. Everyone had. 

It was like losing her all over again. 

No one saw the little sun cracking on the archery field. They just noticed you disappearing behind some clouds. 

You didn’t pay attention to the stares and whiplash glances of some, as you ran back to your cabin with tears streaming, and your heart in your throat. 

Didn’t notice as a tall brunette boy on the sword plains spotted you, dropped his sword immediately and with a shouted apology behind him began to sprint after you. 

Your bed was warm and comforting, the covers swaddled around your shoulders in a safe cocoon as you sobbed your heart and soul onto your pillow. 

Cecelia was dead. Dead. This is what you would deal with every day for the rest of your life, she was dead and she would be replaced and forgotten and no one would even know her and-

The door creaked open and immediately you stilled, pretending to be asleep. 

“Y/N?” It was Luke. 

Not the timing, you thought to yourself miserably. 

“Y-yeah,” you tried for a sleepy yawn, but it came out cracked and pained. Ugh. 

“You ok?” He asked quietly, and you heard his footsteps approach. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just woke up.” But your voice was hollow and very much awake. 

He sat softly at the edge of your bed, and for a while you were both still. Only your breath was audible. Then, tentatively and slowly, you began to feel his warm fingers slide through your hair. It was so comforting and lovely that you had to swallow down the wave of tears that surfaced. 

“It’s okay, you know,” he murmured, your hair in glorious tangles around his knuckles, “to cry. You don’t have to pretend. Especially for me.”

“Yeah, I know,” you whispered back, “it’s just-“ you hesitated. 

I love you. 

I don’t want to burden you with all my stupid problems. 

“You probably don’t want to talk about this to anyone, right? Me included.” He guessed, and he began to retract his fingers and you felt like screaming at how utterly wrong he was. “I’m sorry, I should give you space.”

“No, you don’t have to. You can stay here.” You tried not to beg, but you were inches from clinging onto him to stop his departure. He understood. 

“Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Then here I’m staying. In your bed.” He reassured comfortingly, “I mean, on.” 

His flustered stuttering made you smile weakly and turn to face him. 

His whole face softened, lost all his fluster and stress when your eyes met, but you were too busy setting your head into his lap so you faced up at him to notice. 

He traced your tear tracks, brushing any remaining ones away with his thumbs. 

“I know the pain feels awful,” he said suddenly, “but if you ever feel bad, like you can’t breathe or you’re about to burst, don’t keep it in y/n, come find me. I’m always here for you, always.”

“Thank you.” You said near inaudibly. 

“I hate seeing you cry,” he confessed, his forehead crinkling, “or being sad. It just hurts me. But I love making you feel better, I’d do anything in the world to make you happy, I promise.”

“Thank you.” You said louder this time, your cheeks beginning to heat up. 

It was a peaceful few seconds you gazed at each other, smiling. Then you closed your eyes, comforted. 

You felt warm hands lift your body, and your eyes fluttered open. But it was just Luke lying down beside you and repositioning yourself on his chest. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, “just figured we might be here for a while.”

His arms encircled you, and even in your drunken state of misery, your heart rate sped up. You turned your head slightly, so you could hide your bashful grin in the orange folds of his shirt. His chest was warm, comforting, and you could feel every deep breath he took. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, facing up once more, “your shirt’s probably going to be all soggy after this.”

“I don’t mind a soggy shirt if it makes you happy.” He breathed, and your heart was bursting from the love that statement invoked when you saw his eyes flicker. Your eyes. Your mouth. 

Could he really-

Surely not-

Eyes. Mouth. 

The air was electric, as if Zeus himself was in the cabin. The space was getting tighter and smaller and everything was so close and dizzy and what in the gods before you knew it you were nose to nose and you could feel his warm breath and he was leaning down to kiss you against the pillow. 

It might’ve been the best kiss you ever had. With salt on your tongue, and sweetness from his lips, the tastes of all your emotions were combined, giving way to the most passionate and fantastic kiss you’d ever had. Your head was pressed to the pillow, and he was moving above you, warm, soft and pouring his heart out to you, the gateway his lips. It seemed every single ‘I love you’ either of you had ever been too afraid to say was expressed strongly now, each drop of attraction and love and feeling was encapsulated between the movement of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” he breathed, against your lips, when you finally pulled apart, both of you panting, “I didn’t want to do anything while you were drunk. But of course I wanted to. I wanted you. I have for so long.”

“It’s okay. I have too,” and you laughed, all those emotions and secrets finally free. You were so giddy with joy! But Luke remained tense, nervous for a reason you couldn’t determine. You calmed down, scared it was all about to come crashing down. 

“It’s- it’s not just that, y/n,” he paused, sitting up further away, eyes still looking profoundly into yours, “I love you. I love you, all of you, and you should know that to me you’ve never been a burden, only a miracle to have been with.” 

Your breath was caught in your throat, blown away by his confession. You were expecting he might’ve been crushing on you? But loving you? You’d never dared to consider that as an option. And you were beyond thrilled. 

“Now would be a great time to say anything,” he laughed nervously, fingers brushing over your shoulders restlessly. You immediately felt awful for keeping him waiting. 

“I love you too.” You blurted, letting silence ensue. “You make me so happy every time you make a joke or take care of the new unclaimed kids. I’m just in shock.”

And then the pair of you were laughing together, foreheads pressed together before you were tangled in an embrace, that led to another heated kiss on your bed.

You knew soon other campers would arrive to see two head counselors kissing, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. In fact, while Luke’s like we’re on yours, you couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts at all. 

In the back of your mind, you were still sobbing over Cecilia. Deeply, you knew you always would. Your heart would always be chipped in that way, the missing fragment forever in her fist as she wandered Elysium. 

But you also knew how happy she would be to see you thriving, dating and loving Luke, a boy she had always suggested and approved of. She imagined her now, giggling in delight and grinning at what had transpired. And slowly, the pain began to lift. 

Maybe a scar would be okay, as long as you loved and remembered it. 

Most of all, you knew that for as long as you required a shoulder to make soggy, Luke would always be there to be your comfort person. 

taglist:

@lifeonawhim

@sflame15-blog

@star611

Based on Moth to a Flame by the Weeknd & Swedish House Mafia

Post-tlt!Luke x Apollo!fem!reader

3.1k

warnings: suggestive themes, angsty, Steve is a warning 💀, reader is cheating with Luke, SPOILERS FOR THE LIGHTNING THIEF AND A TINY BIT OF SEA OF MONSTERS.

It wasn’t him. 

That was all you could think about as your boyfriend kissed you passionately in front of the whole camp. Sure, he was an excellent kisser, but it wasn’t as nice as it could’ve been. 

If it was him, he would’ve known to leave the breathtaking kisses for private. Known that you hated to make a scene. Would’ve put your comfort before his lusty need to kiss you-

You couldn’t think that. He was evil. And he had hurt your terribly. You refused to say his name even now, six months after his departure. He had left you and betrayed the whole camp and was conspiring with Titans, trying to start a war. 

Steve…. Wasn’t like that. 

You liked him. He was nice and treated you like you should be treated. He was a spectacle to be around. 

You still remembered all the drama from when he’d first asked you out. It was a story, all right, just like Steve liked.  

You hadn’t been in a great place then. You cried every night over him - you still did - you avoided the Hermes cabin like it was a plague, and you just felt numb and empty every day. 

And then he’d asked you out. Steve was from the Ares cabin, and after he had left, the red team had been having a lot of luck with winning Capture the Flag. 

It had been another one of Steve’s victories, and he’d been triumphantly waving the flag around before he passed it to his teammate, and drew the camp’s attention.  

“So, thanks to me, we get the best chores, best privileges. Thanks Chiron.” And Ares cabin roared as Chiron nodded awkwardly. “Still, I want one more thing. I have to have one more prize. Her. I’d like to ask y/n l/n to be my girlfriend.”

And your friends had talked about this for a while before, how they seemed to just know Steve had a crush on you - even though you couldn’t see it - and how they thought you guys would be perfect together. And how it would help you get over him. 

You said yes. 

And it was a fairytale from there. 

Every time he won Capture the Flag, (which was every week just about) he’d pick you up and spin you round, kissing you. It became a tradition, a victory kiss. And they were long, burning, breathless kisses, and he would continue even when you tired and stopped. He was passionate that way, all about making your pulse quicken. But not as much as did when he-

At dinners in the pavilion, you would share a peck before every meal while you queued. He was always next to you, and although it was kinda dull having him dismiss your friends so he could talk to you privately, at least you had the company right? And you always shared your extra food with him when he was hungry, and sometimes he would try to feed you sandwiches teasingly, which everyone cooed at. You wished they wouldn’t-

On weekend nights, you’d come back with him to Ares cabin secretly, and he’d make out with you in his bed, telling you he deserved his girlfriend after a long and hard week. And you would kiss and kiss and kiss and your lips would be swollen, your head would be spinning and people would roll their eyes and talk about how stupidly in love the pair of you were. 

Like a fairytale. 

Except, it had a bit of a twist. When he finally tired of your body and lips, and let out a few gentle snores, then you would escape. 

You started the habit the first time you couldn’t sleep after one of your make out sessions. 

It was idiotic, but you couldn’t fight the way you were still loyal to the traitor you had called your lover, how you felt sick to the stomach each time you felt Steve’s arms around you, tighter and more cage-like than his had ever been. You couldn’t fight the way your mind flitted between the two boys, comparing and contrasting between them to the detail, draining you of your sanity as the night stretched on. Hypnos didn’t bless you with rest, and you cursed the god that had ever created overthinking. 

You’d walked out, your arms huddled around you like his should be, and you stumbled in the cool darkness all the way to the beach. 

And in the obscurity of the night, you would let your heart break properly, as completely as it needed to. You would sin, become the villain of your own fairytale. 

You would whisper his name, over and over and over, as you would tell him everything that had happened to you. Every event that had transpired since he left. Eventually, you’d bring old Polaroids of the pair of you you’d hidden away, and an old flickering torch to view them with. A lot of the time you simply sobbed your heart out, whispering his name again and again into the sands, this beach the only place you could ever continue to love him. 

Usually, you were out for a while, bathing in your midnight misery, sometimes until Apollo deigned to let the Sun give light to the sky. 

It wouldn’t make you happier. 

Once everything was visible, occasionally you stared at the ocean, spotting the distant specks that were ships. You wondered if any of them were his, stupid Princess Andromeda, with all the horrifying monsters aboard you’d heard about. 

It was torture, thinking like that. That he was one call away, that you might scream across the waves and he would hear, and yet you were worlds apart. 

Once the sunshine heated your skin, you would drown your love in the daylight, and head back to Steve, your… lover. 

It was an awful, unhealthy routine. You knew that, and felt so many tremendous ways about it. 

But it was also beautiful in a painful way you’d grown to love. 

It was much the same tonight. 

Relief like a tsunami washing over you, as you began to feel the sleepy inhales and exhales of your boyfriend. The fifteen minutes it took you to softly slip out of his embrace unnoticed, and how they dribbled by slowly. A quick check for harpies, a speedy walk to the beach down the faint path your careful steps had created. 

Than the silence. 

Agonising, serene silence. 

The stars would hear his name again, as you spoke, the only witnesses to your traitorous actions. 

You’d only said his name once, listening as it faded into the sounds of the night, the chirping of insects and breeze in the trees. 

Crunching footsteps disturbed the peaceful aura. 

Instantly, you were on your guard, cursing yourself for lacking in a weapon. No matter how heavy the clunky torch was, it would be no match for fangs or talons. You held it up regardless, circling around on your feet as you searched for the source of the sound. 

“Is that a torch? Man, I’m outta here.”

You might’ve died. Your heart stopped. Your breath caught. Everything inside you froze. 

It was him. 

Him. 

Your torch lowered as he approached, the moon casting a holy glow on his face and distinct scar. 

He looked exactly as you remembered. 

Tall, lean, eyes deep, dark and entrancing, curls the rich colour of cocoa. 

Handsome as Adonis-

No. You raised your torch again, as you reminded yourself who this boy was, what he had done to you. No, you did not trust him, even if you missed him. 

“It’s me. I’m not here to hurt you,” he reassured, approaching you softly as if you were the dangerous one, “you don’t have to be on guard.”

Being you isn’t enough anymore, you wanted to scream. 

“What are you here for then? Are you planning some attack at camp?” You asked instead, horrified. 

“What are you out here for? Are you planning to join me?” He whispered back, smirking. 

“I- no, no. I could never do what you’ve done- what you do, no-“

“Yeah, yeah, I’m horrendous, I get it,” he interrupted, impatient, “but you’re still out here. And you were saying my name.”

The last sentence was almost… sensitive and hopeful. You didn’t like the way that vulnerability made you feel. 

“I did not. I have not said your name since the day you left, the day you betrayed us.” You denied, shaking your head and backing away from him. He followed you, even as you feet moved left and right. 

“Please, stop,” you begged, scared now as he continued to step where you stepped. 

“No, I came back for you,” his expression and voice changed, no longer smug and smirky. He was desperate, genuine. “There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought of you. I still love you, y/n, and the biggest mistake of my life was leaving you here.”

Your eyes welled at his words. This was all you’d ever wanted to hear. 

“You can’t just say that, you- you-“ your voice broke, and you finally stopped your retreat as your back hit a tree. “You left me for six months. You can’t just come back randomly, if you loved me you wouldn’t have left and-“

There was only a foot between the two of you. And it was rapidly closing, each steady footstep bringing you nose to nose. You couldn’t stop it, and you didn’t want to. 

“I-I- what are you doing, I can’t do this, whatever this is- I have a boyfriend and um, what-“

Your foreheads were almost touching. He was frowning, your guess was at the mention of Steve. Your eyes met, and you glanced away, knowing if you met his gaze once more you would give into anything he requested. 

“If you loved your boyfriend,” he breathed, each word becoming hotter and breathier as it neared your lips, ”you wouldn’t be out here crying and saying my name like a prayer.”

It was impossible to resist. Your eyes met again, and it felt as if you didn’t have a choice as he leaned down to kiss you. Your body was just following what it yearned to do. 

It was just as fantastic as you remembered. 

Blazing, spectacular, thrilling fireworks all through your body. On both of your lips burning and tingling with electric attraction, as they moved at a seamless speed. On your shoulders, as he massaged the bones, his hands brushing the length of them. In your blood as every particle of you seemed to hum in joy and satisfaction. It was an eager, sweet kiss, and it was precisely what you’d been missing. 

Why had you been trying to be a princess in a fairytale?

It was one of the only things you and he agreed on. You hated fairytales. 

You preferred thrillers. 

In sync you drew apart for breath, panting hard and grinning. After a short pause, you couldn’t hold it in anymore,. 

“Luke,” you said.

It was like saying a dirty cuss word that held powerful meaning. A secret no one wanted revealed. This was the loudest you’d ever said it in months, and you felt glad at the release of his name from your heart. 

It was the magic word for Luke. 

Immediately his lips were on yours, and there was no restraint this time. If that kiss had been hungry before, these were starved. 

Every ounce of anything either of you had felt was developed into that kiss. It was a myriad of different emotions, conflict and similar feelings rebelling and intertwining as your lips and tongues danced. I love you. I hate you. All I want is you. I’ve missed you. All I think about is you. I’ll never love someone how I love you-

“Come with me,” he begged, breaking apart as you shuddered for breath, and how could you refuse if he looked at you like that?

Luke beamed at you, seeing as you weren’t rejecting him and eagerly took your hand in his. The familiar warmth almost caused you to faint. 

And then he was leading you swiftly away from the beach, into the woods, and towards another part of the shoreline. 

You were almost giggly, as he pulled you along, over logs and past dense patches of lush shrubbery. It was like you were sixteen again, sneaking away from harpies and head counsellors so you could stargaze and kiss. 

You made it to his ship soon enough, the Princess Andromeda.

It was certainly fit for royalty. 

The style and size of the boat caused you to stop a moment, your jaw dropping. 

Luke continued to tug at your hand, pulling you along and towards the deck before you could reconsider. You figured you were too far gone to turn back now. But you didn’t want to either. 

“C’mon,” he urged, as you rapidly ascended the steps onto the ship. He led you inside, and down a few corridors, before he opened a door to what looked to be his room. 

It was grand, stylish. A double bed stood in the centre, a desk and ensuite to the left, and a wardrobe and bedside table to the right. You knew then that this was probably bigger and better than anything he’d ever had in his life. You wondered if he ever got lonely in the large space, or simply always felt like a king. 

Your thoughts were removed almost violently out of your head as Luke kissed you abruptly, pushing against you and using your back to close the door behind you. 

“I missed you,” he muttered against your lips, his arms twisting around you and hoisting you up, as if you were a bride. 

You laughed then, giddy, and said it back to him. 

He placed you on the bed softly, grinning and giving you time to shift about and be comfortable before he climbed over you, hovering above. 

The romantic assault ensued soon after. He tasted and smelled the same, and even though you were in new surroundings, it was like coming home. 

 “Your boyfriend,” he panted, laying heated kisses like freckles down your neck, “does he kiss you like this?”

“No.” The answer was breathy but definite. 

You could feel his smirk on your collarbone. “He doesn’t know, does he? About what you do out there. Try and talk to me, look at photos of us, cry. I’m your secret.”

And he was exhilarated to be your secret it seemed, because the kiss he gave you then was heart-stopping and sped up, like all the love scenes in thrillers. 

 And then the kissing stopped, because you both stupidly needed to breathe, and he lowered his head to your neck, his nose brushing the hollow of it as he regained oxygen. 

You sat up yourself, and while he continued panting, reached for the hem of his shirt. He froze, his eyes meeting yours in shock. He nodded insistently. 

It wasn’t the worn edge of his camp t-shirt you were used to, but the smooth fold of a new, better-fitting, more expensive one. 

You pulled it off, slowly, your fingers scraping against his sides in ways that made him shiver. It finally travelled over his head, and you tossed it somewhere on the floor, before cupping his face in your hands. 

“I’ll never get over you. I never have. Steve is just Steve and you’re you.” You whispered, lovestruck. 

You were sure he would’ve answered back something just as personal and romantic, but your fingers had found their way to his scar, the ridged line he’d loathed and you’d come to adore. All the words seemed to have evaporated from his mouth. You traced the length of the scar softly, before kissing every centimetre of it. His eyes had fluttered closed, and he was still. It was one of the only times his face looked so delicate. 

He sank down into the mountain of pillows,  yanking your shirt off and tossing it, and you hovered over him, tracing and smoothing your hands over the tense planes and valleys of his chest and shoulders. He inhaled and exhaled sharply, and you knew how much your care and adoration of him and his body meant to him. 

He was even more muscly than before, somehow, and you marvelled at the strength and might of your beloved boy, as you began leaving a burning line of kisses from the hollow of his neck to his navel. 

He shuddered, making little noises at each touch of your lips to his chest. 

Once your lips had finished that journey, up and back, you settled into his side, tucking your head under his chin and on his chest. 

His heart was racing, and as was yours, and the close, intimate feeling of it all was enough to make you beam. He turned his head to face you. His eyes were earnest, shining with clarity and joy. 

“You’re the only good thing in this world. I love you.”

And the world seemed to stop once your lips met again, because everything was perfect. 

Your heart, mind and body, all in the right place, cradled in his arms. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thrills only last so long before they wear off. 

The sunshine that streamed in through the porthole was like a warning from your father, a reminder that your actions were against everything you loved. Everything you believed in.

A reminder that while you loved Luke, you loved Camp Half-Blood more. 

You left your heart there, tucked between his sheets, nestled in his warm embrace. The loss of it tore your chest, as you tiptoed through the corridors, gasping at the monsters you could now see and swearing at yourself as tears flooded your vision. 

Maybe you should’ve woken him, you thought, given him one final kiss. 

You never would’ve been able to leave. 

You settled for leaving a note. 

You will always have my heart. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was awake. 

Of course he was. You’d always been restless, while you overthought and he’d woken as you tossed and turned softly. 

And he knew. 

Knew then that you were going to leave him. 

It was all over. 

He’d wanted to hold tight then, keep you as his, and never be parted from you. 

But he couldn’t. 

He knew he couldn’t even though he wanted to, even though he had promised himself he would never lose you again as you fell asleep entangled with him. 

It was the hardest thing in his life, feigning sleep as you silently slipped away, as you brushed his cheek in goodbye. 

You will always have my heart. 

They would always love each other. 

Always be torn apart. 

Upcoming....

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

i was supposed to be sent away but they forgot...

I love you, it's ruining my life

-> (Conrad Fisher x older Conklin sister!reader)

How dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

-> (Luke Castellan x apollo!reader)

Messy top lip kiss and moonlit trysts

-> (Conrad fisher x oldest!conklin sister!reader)

You're the loss of my life

-> (Sirius Black x reader)

I cry a lot, it's an art

-> (Luke Castellan x apollo!reader)

Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

-> (Steven Conklin x fisher!reader)

note: all these fics will be with fem!readers, because that is what I feel comfortable writing with at the minute.

I don’t think you guys understand how much I love this song. So here’s some fluff, which you guys wanted most in that little poll.

Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader

warnings: brief mentions of Luke's quest ptsd, nightmares, mentions of death by monsters.

summary: you and luke have known how nice it was to have a friend for years. And then it becomes something more.

Based on 'It's Nice to Have a Friend' by Taylor Swift.

winter of meeting (fourteen years old)

It was the first time you’d ever seen snow.

As the final conch horn echoed throughout camp and activities ceased, you’d exchanged the friendship bracelet you’d been making with Luke, giggling at the messy pattern he’d made.

You’d only known each other for a little while, but already you could tell that arts and crafts were not his strong points.

“Whatever,” he was grumbling, although he was also grinning as the two of you ambled out of the craft cabin. “Woah.”

You felt it then, the cold flakes fluttering on your skin, causing hairs to raise all over you. The pair of you stood, shivering and in awe as you faced towards Olympus, watching as the white flurries swirled down through the grey sky.

“Let’s go,” he urged you, throwing a jacket on, “this barely ever happens they say. We’ve gotta savour it while we can.”

“I-I haven’t got a coat with me,” you pointed out awkwardly, cursing yourself for not noticing the cold temperatures beforehand.

“Oh,” and he immediately ripped his coat off and placed it on your shoulders before you could protest. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your cabin for your coat and then we can have some fun.”

Slipping and sliding through the snow you went, reaching your cabin in no time. Already the snow had grown thick, and you took advantage of this, making wonky snow angels and pelting snow balls at each other. This fun and mania continued until others joined and it became so violent and competitive, Chiron had to intervene.

To appease everyone, however, he promised a night of camping on the beach in tents. You remembered how you’d stayed up so late that night, talking and talking and talking. You never got sick of it, and in the close and fun atmosphere, it was so nice to have a friend.

summer he came back (seventeen years old)

The pink sky was so spacious and beautiful from up here. It was many a night you’d ascended up onto the Hermes cabin roof, but you didn’t think it had ever been so scenic.

You hoped your dad was giving a fantastic sky show to Luke after all the shit he’d been through.

“You guys have gotta get dow-“

“We’re literally counsellors too! Go away!” You screamed at the pesky Demeter counsellor, glaring at him until he left you in peace. Couldn’t he take a hint? Couldn’t you guys be left in peace for a fraction of a second?! It wasn’t like you guys had a curfew anyway.

To break the tense silence, you decided to play twenty questions. It was a tradition of yours, and you couldn’t exactly remember when you first played it, just that it was a game you played often. You hoped it would cheer Luke up from the miserable place he had been since he returned to camp from his quest.

“What was…. The goofiest thing you saw on your quest?” You asked, smiling.

He grinned weakly, seeming to rack his brain as he gazed at the sunset. “Um, oh! Probably this guy we saw on the bus. He had these maroon gloves, and uh, a completely orange jumpsuit thing and all he did the whole trip was eat celery.”

“What? No way.” You said in disbelief, shaking your head.

“No, he was insane, just like crunching away at these sticks of celery for about an hour, I swear.”

You continued like this for a while, asking silly questions and snickering until your stomachs ached. But the deeper questions came too.

“Do you still have nightmares?” You were scared to ask this question, scared that it overstepped. Sure, you were best friends and you’d talked about these deep, close and personal things many times before, but Luke had changed when he came back. He was more sensitive, more traumatised. He hadn’t cracked with you, but he had with Chris, and that was still saying something. You didn’t want to fracture the shaky relationship you’d fought to rebuild.

“Yeah,” he replied, and you drew closer as he let out a shaky exhale, “they keep coming, and I just can’t get away from them.”

“What’s in them?”

“It starts off pretty normal. I’m usually with you somewhere and we’re doing something for camp. And then-then this gap opens beneath your feet- and you fall, and, and you’re screaming the whole way down. And then this evil, dark voice comes out and sometimes I can hear it, but usually it just mutters all these weird phrases I can’t understand.”

“What does it tell you when you can hear?” You were both curious and concerned.

“It’s weird. That if I follow it, it can show me a world where no one I care about gets hurt, and I can protect them all. Sometimes, I get these glimpses of this warm, golden place and everyone’s happy and safe. But then I’m just scared again.”

There was a brief silence, allowing both of you to mull over the words just spoken.

“My go,” and his eyes were soft when he faced you, “Apollo been answering your prayers?”

You shook your head, blinking back the tears in your eyes at the thought. Of course he knew. He was Luke Castellan.

“I thought so. You deserve so much better than him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a god, right?” You said weakly, brushing tears, “bad parenting is part of their jam.”

You fought the tears that continued to build, thinking of a way to change the subject. “This questioning is getting so depressing, geez.”

“Well, it’s your go. You lighten the mood.” He offered, leaning back on his elbows.

“Ok. I can’t think of anymore! Uhh, on a scale of 1 to 10 how important am I to you?” You joked, covering your mouth as you chuckled quietly.

He wasn’t laughing back though. In fact, his face was earnest.

“10.” He replied softly, and his hand reached forward and brushed yours.

And you treasured that evening in your memory. It was so nice to have a friend.

spring of new beginnings (twenty five years old)

The clanging of bells signified both your successes as you’d reached the adult years of life. Even at 25, you and Luke were lucky to be alive.

You both didn’t want to waste anymore time.

Laughter erupted from you, as he scooped you into his arms, carrying you away from Big House and the cacophony of ricocheting metal courtesy of the Hephaestus and Hecate cabins, and the grass strewn with snow flake like rice grains.

You’d had the celebration at camp, but you were planning to drive back to your home - a new apartment in New York.

And here you were. Humming along to the high notes of a nostalgic song on your playlist, waiting for Luke to come back with his take out, and drumming your fingers on your cream skirt. Despite the fact that he’d stuffed his face with entrees that Demeter kids had lovingly and tediously created back at camp, he was still starving by the time you’d spent a while on the road. Truth be told, you were too, but given the fact you were still in your wedding dress, you didn’t want to risk any stains.

The loud and cheery tune of your ringtone distracted you from your thoughts, and after a bit of scrambling, you picked up, noticing it was Luke.

“Luke, babe, I swear I gave you the credit card, it isn’t in here.”

“Uh, ouch, no there’s no problem with that,” he explained, chuckling. “That creamy sauce is still your favourite, right? With wings?”

“Yeah?” you said, confused. “But I’m not hungry remember? Just buy food for yourself, and get outta there before we hit peak hour traffic.”

“Oh yeah, I just noticed it’s a few cents cheaper than normal sauce.” You could hear him munching softly now, so you assumed he was on his way out. Thank the gods.

“Ok?? And you seriously called me for that?” You asked, more amused now, but still very confused.

“Ooh, you’re right, I better watch my step, any more communication and my wife will divorce me.” He teased.

You sputtered a bit at wife, trying not to choke. You still weren’t used to it. You didn’t think you ever would be.

“I know you’re blushing in there.” He called over the phone, except now you could see him exiting the store, boxes piled in his arms.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, hanging up and trying to calm your burning cheeks.

When he entered the car, the sucker still had that grin on his face as he passed you a box of wings and a little tub of your favourite sauce.

“Huh?” You asked him, a smile spreading.

“Y/n, I think even Mr D. has enough intuition skills to know you were craving some wings. Let’s eat.”

And you beamed at him, because of course your Luke knew when you desperately wanted food and would go and procure it for you.

The car trip was a lot shorter when the both of you were licking your fingers and passionately singing your favourite songs off-key. It seemed only moments had passed before you were turning into the parking lot underneath your apartment, stacking any box you could carry in your arms, and sandwiching bags between each limb.

Thankfully, the elevator wasn’t broken, and you were able to take that up to the three floors it took to reach your apartment. Outside the door was your landlord, a steaming coffee mug in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

You bit your lip anxiously as he scanned his eyes over you, his lips twisting in amusement at your dress.

“Nice outfit,” he sniped, taking a sip of the hot black liquid.

“I certainly thought so.” Luke chimed in, taking the keys from the man and unlocking the door. He led you in by the shoulder. “She looks beautiful, just like always.”

And then the door was shut, and you were bent over giggling quietly, casting grateful looks at him while Luke side-eyed the door.

You’d barely been a moment in your new place, but it already felt like home with him. As you personalised the place further and more and more of your belongings from camp hung on the walls, lay on the floor and were tucked into corners, a sense of belonging crept into your heart. You loved this place. You loved Luke.

Walking swiftly into the bedroom, you collapsed onto the mattress he was setting up, tugging him down with you.

He groaned happily, as you carded your fingers through his hair.

“Let’s just lie here for a while and not do anymore unpacking,” you whispered to him breathily, as you settled into his side.

“Mmmm, not a while. How about the whole weekend?” He mumbled, as his arms snaked around you, pulling you in closer.

And in the warmth of that bed it was the same comfortable feeling you’d felt with him all those times before.