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hittmeandtellmeyouremine · 19 hours ago

Text

found ittt

you don’t know me

pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.

synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.

warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k

a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭

♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier

1:33am

it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.

he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.

“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.

“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”

“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”

“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”

“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.

but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.

“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.

“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.

you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.

“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.

“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.

he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.

“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.

“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.

you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.

his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.

“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.

“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.

his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.

but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.

he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.

tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.

“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.

he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.

“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?

“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”

his throat dries, “yeah?”

“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.

he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.

“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”

“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.

“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.

“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.

“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”

you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”

4:56pm

you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”

you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.

he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.

as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.

“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.

“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.

“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.

thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.

“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.

“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.

“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”

he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.

“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.

you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.

luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.

your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.

“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.

his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”

“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.

“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.

“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.

“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.

his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.

“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.

“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”

“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.

you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.

“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.

“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.

#𝗰𝗲𝗹'𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘀◛#luke castellan #luke castellan au #luke castellan x reader #spidey!luke castellan

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cobrakaisb · 2 days ago

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i think about this fic everyday and the fact that people did not eat it up the way i did 😔

get'cha head in the game

summary: you’re a star basketball player, destined for a life of greatness outside of the walls of camp half-blood, but the only thing you want is confined to cabin eleven.

word count: 2.95k

featuring: nike!reader, mention women’s basketball players, talk of college recruitment, me being a proud member of uconn nation 🤝 , and fluff

🎵 get’cha head in the game by zac efron

fake right, and break left

“it can’t be that hard,” travis gloats, standing in front of you as you dribble the ball between your legs casually.

you shrug. “play me and find out,” you reply, throwing up a perfect three pointer.

“i just mean that you spend all summer being a demigod, your skills have to be a little rusty,” he exclaims, throwing up a hand too late as the ball has already swished through the net.

connor, his younger and just as sassy brother, grabs the rebound and bounces it to travis, saying, “that’s true. you’re here, picking strawberries and flirting with luke.”

your cheeks flush at his comment, and there are several laughs from your friend group. you risk a glance at the head counselor, who’s sitting with clarisse, silena, chris, and charlie on the sidelines. his shoulders are shaking with laughter, but his cheeks are just tinted a bit red from the teasing. although, there really is no need for it; there’s nothing more than a flirtationship and occasional make out between you two.

“but i could still beat you,” you say, effortlessly stealing the ball from travis and sinking the layup.

“that’s what, five to zero, not that we’re keeping score,” you add tauntingly.

“settle down nike, you haven’t seen nothing yet,” travis says, and your friends ooh at his words.

“okay fine. first to twenty one wins. and to make it fair, we’ll play loser’s ball,” you say, passing the ball to him as you take a defensive stance.

travis scoffs at your words, opening his mouth to protest, but luke cuts him off, “just take the deal trav, she’s saving you from further embarrassment.”

you smirk at your friend’s words, pulling your basketball shorts up your thighs as you crouch down and get in travis’s face. he gulps, a nervous sweat breaking out on his forehead, but doesn’t say anything as he tries to formulate a plan. you watch his eyes dart around the court, and know exactly what he’s going to do. it’s almost too easy.

one. two. you count the dribbles before you swipe the ball from his hands. you take it outside the three-point line, per the rules, and take the shot.

grabbing the rebound, you hand it to him, “like i said, loser’s ball.”

don’t be afraid to shoot the outside j

“one of these days the harpies are going to get you,” luke says, making his presence known.

you turn away from the basket, smiling softly at him as the ball soars through the air and into the net. he’s in his pajama pants and a black hoodie that’s a little too small on him.

“i can’t help it,” you explain, holding the ball between your palms at the free throw line.

luke sighs. he can’t imagine the pressure to be great. “what drill are you running?” he asks, stepping beside you.

you smile. “make ten free throws, in a row. then i’ll hit the elbows, and after that three’s,” you explain, dribbling the ball three times before shooting.

you don’t miss. he doesn’t expect you to.

“well how many have you made?” he asks.

“twelve. but you watching always makes me nervous,” you say, trailing off towards the end.

his eyebrows furrow at your words. you’ve always been vulnerable with him, but that usually takes coaxing. this was an easy admittance; it makes him nervous.

“why?”

“don’t know. i always want to play good for you, for all of you guys i guess,” you say with a shrug.

luke crosses his arms at that, a serious look taking over his face as he observes you. he’s trying to process what you’re saying, read in between the lines. you’re sure of it, the small furrow in his brow giving him away. you go back to your shooting drills, his gaze burning deep into your skin is too much for you.

“you always play good though. and i know that because the apollo and ares boys talk about how teamed up they still can’t beat you,” luke says.

you flush at his words. you’d hoped he didn’t know about your games with them: you versus two boys. it made you feel superior to them, all the campers here, and you felt guilty for it. you’d never been on a quest, and you never would. your mother wasn’t one of the twelve olympians, so you didn’t even have a cabin to call your own, just a bunk in the middle of the hermes cabin. at the same time, she hadn’t given you a special gift or anything noteworthy, just her competitive spirit. something which you’re sure was passed down to you and your siblings, not that you had many.

“i’m not supposed to be a star here, luke. the whole reason i came to camp was to get a some sense of normalcy, and i can’t even do that right,” you mumble.

he grabs the ball from your hands then, forcing you to look at him. “nothing about you is normal. neither your parentage nor basketball skills. and especially not your fancy sports school, but we don’t hold it against you. we all have our quirks,” he says, a lopsided smile on his face, one you easily reciprocate.

“yeah i guess you're right.”

“i know i am, nike,” he answers, surprising you with a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “let’s head back,” he continues, lacing your fingers with his, giving you no other option but to follow.

cause when we get it then the crowd will go wild

“and you got more mail today,” your dad says over the iris message, “something from the coach at princeton and one from quinnipiac.”

you nod your head, humming softly to show that you heard what he was saying.

“i think you should come home, sport,” he adds, and your eyes widen at his words.

the protests are on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to it, “i know. i know, but this is your future we’re talking about. i mean, some of these coaches are inviting you to a practice and a meeting.”

you understand what he’s saying, really you do. the opportunities coming your way are endless, but how can you give up summer when it just started? this year is your senior year, and once you commit, you know there will be no more summers at camp half-blood. you’ll be giving up frolicking in the strawberry fields with katie gardner and sneaking out to bonfires with clarisse and silena. next summer, there won’t be pick up games with travis or training in the late hours of the night while luke grabs the rebounds.

“can’t i just have one month?” you beg, finally meeting your dad’s eyes.

he hesitates, you can see that he’s leaning towards no, but you interject, “please dad. it’s my last summer here. we all know it.”

he sighs, mumbling something about sending emails, but replies, “one month. i’m coming to get you right after the fourth, no ifs ands or buts. got it?”

you nod excitedly, smiling as you wipe at your cheeks, which you didn’t even notice were damp. “thanks dad,” you whisper.

he smiles, nodding his head, “you got it.”

the two of you sit in silence for a minute, and as you move to disconnect the message he says, “i’m proud of you, sport, always have been.”

you smile again, shyly this time after hearing your dad’s praise. “thanks dad. love you.”

“love you too,” he answers, before swiping his hand through the mist and ending the call.

you take a breath, shoulders dropping with relief. you have one month left of summer before it’s back to the grind, and you know exactly what you need to do; who you need to talk to. turning on your heel to leave the cabin, you collide with somebody. looking up at them, you realize that it’s luke, and the apologies die on your tongue when you notice the far away look in his eyes.

“hey. you okay?” you ask, giving his biceps a squeeze.

he swallows, meeting your eyes as he asks, “you’re leaving in a month? i thought we had the whole summer?”

you bite on your bottom lip, regret pooling in your stomach as you answer, “yeah. a lot of colleges want me to play for them, so i need to go talk to some coaches.”

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he steps away from you. you frown, reaching out for him, but he holds up a hand, effectively warding you off. the distance between you two makes you uncomfortable, and you gnaw at your lip as you wait for him to gather his thoughts.

“how many schools?” he asks.

“what?”

“how many schools are looking for you?” he says, stepping closer to you again.

the question is unexpected, and throws you off balance for a second. “oh. um a lot. there’s a ton of them,” you say.

“like?” he probes, waving a hand for you to continue.

“well, there’s usc, but they have juju watkins so i don’t think i’m really needed there. uconn, with paige bueckers and azzi fudd, plus they’re looking into sarah strong so i don’t know how much time i’ll get there either. kim mulkey from lsu and dawn staley from south carolina have both reached out. princeton’s given me an offer, and so has michigan, but i don’t really know about those two. some smaller schools too, like quinnipiac and uri want me to play with them. i think fau and a couple massachusetts schools have reached out too, but everything is still really up in the air,” you ramble, feeling nervous explaining it all to luke.

“geez nike, those are a lot of schools,” he says with a proud smile on his face.

you smile back, “don’t i know it.”

it’s quiet between the two of you, and he finally opens his arms. you walk right into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck where it smells like sweat, pine needles, and irish spring soap. you’re a bit more relaxed now, the threat of leaving camp for good pushed back in your mind. then again, being luke’s arms always relaxes you.

“i can’t wait to get a uconn jersey,” he whispers, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he guides you out of the cabin.

you raise a brow at that, “who said i’m going there?”

he gives you a look that reads ‘seriously’ and replies, “the best of the best go there, nike. and you’re clearly one of best.”

you laugh at his words, throwing a playful elbow at his ribs, but he just pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head. you lean into him, wrapping an arm around his waist as the two of you walk through camp, searching for your friends.

should i go for it? better shake this, yikes!

“i can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” silena pouts, looking at you over the rim of her cup.

“i know! i feel like summer is just getting started,” you reply, smoothing out your beach towel as you take a seat next to her and clarisse.

“maybe you’ll have a weekend off to come back and visit,” clarisse says, and silena nods her head excitedly.

you know the odds of that happening are doubtful, but you nod and reply, “yeah maybe.”

the mood turns somber then, and the three of you sit in silence. nobody knows what to say as you wait for the fireworks to start.

“you know what, we can’t be sad. it’s your last night, and we need to come up with a plan for you to confess to luke,” silena exclaims, a determined look in her eyes.

you freeze mid-sip, and cough up the liquid. “what?”

“oh don’t play dumb, we all know you have feelings for him,” she continues, waving her hand casually.

“i don’t. he’s just a friend,” you reply a little too quickly.

“you, you got what i need,” clarisse starts singing teasingly.

“but you say he’s just a friend,” silena continues.

“you say he’s just a friend. oh baby you,” they shout, singing together.

you can’t help but laugh at their antics, shoving silena’s shoulder as they quiet down into a fit of giggles. once you all calm down, silena takes charge again, “but seriously, you need to tell him how you feel.”

you shake your head, but clarisse interrupts, “this could be your last chance.”

you sigh. she’s completely right. the chances of you coming back to camp after tomorrow are slim to none. and while you may have convinced yourself you're okay with never knowing how a relationship between you and luke would go, there will always be a small part of you that regrets not saying anything.

“even if he rejects you, you’re leaving tomorrow, so it doesn’t really matter,” clarisse adds, and silena slaps her shoulder.

“i mean��not that he would,” the daughter of ares stutters, but you wave her off.

“you guys are right. i’m gonna tell him,” you decide, downing the rest of your drink as you stand up from your spot on the beach.

silena claps excitedly and clarisse gives you a big thumbs up as you walk towards the shoreline, where some of the boys are playing a game of football. you don’t even need to call out to him, he sees you coming and excuses himself from the game. his cheeks are flushed and he’s panting a bit as he approaches you, pulling you into a quick hug.

“you good?” he asks, giving you a once over.

“yeah just…can we talk?” you reply, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

he nods, a worried look crossing his features, “yeah of course. let’s go to the woods.”

you let him lead you to the woods with a firm hold on your hand. the entire time, you’re shaking with nerves, which is strange since you’ve never felt this nervous in your life. even the biggest basketball game can’t compare to this. he stops in a secluded ring of trees, dropping your hand as he stands in front of you. your palms are so sweaty, you realize, and try to discreetly wipe them on your denim shorts.

“you good? you look like you’re gonna be sick,” he says.

“i feel like i’m gonna be sick,” you mumble, and he tilts his head in confusion.

before he can say anything, you open your mouth and the word vomit starts. you’re not really sure what you’re saying, but it’s something about your feelings for him and how you need him to know before you leave tomorrow. when you stop, and take a few shaky breaths, you finally meet his gaze. there’s a softness in his eyes, as he cups your jaw and pulls you close to him.

“gods, nike, i’ve been waiting to hear that since forever,” he whispers, before planting his lips on yours.

you melt into the kiss, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer. he agrees, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest as his teeth nip at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. you comply, parting your lips slightly as you let him in. he pulls back, takes a second to breath, before leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. your fingers tug on his hair, and you arch your back further into him.

“gods luke,” you say breathlessly.

“we can’t all be good at sports, but i know enough to understand you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take,” he teases, kissing your chin as you laugh at his words.

“you know who said that?” you ask between laughs.

“yeah, micheal scott,” he answers, and you burst into laughter all over again.

“i’ll miss you, nike,” he whispers, once you’ve both calmed down.

“i’ll miss you too, luke,” you reply.

you gotta get’cha, get’cha head in the game

a year and a half later

“okay everybody shut up! they’re going by grade,” someone shouts, and the crowd of demigods quiets down as they sit in front of the screen.

nobody can remember how they got it, but someone convinced chiron and mr. d to let them set up a screen and projector to watch uconn basketball’s first night. connor and travis claim to have found the items buried away in the big house’s attic, and while chiron would normally question the truth behind that statement, the excitement of your basketball debut outweighed the repercussions. especially when charlie and the other hephaestus kids found a way to get access to connecticut’s local news station, in long island.

“i bet she’s next,” someone shouts, and everyone listens patiently to the music and the voice of the announcer.

“a five-ten freshman guard from long island, new york,” the announcer starts, and everyone starts screaming and cheering, “number eleven, yn ln.”

luke isn’t sure where the cheers are louder, camp half-blood or gampel pavilion, but he smiles nonetheless as he sees you skip out of the tunnel to the song from high school musical. he watches as you look at the camera, pointing between your eyes and the lens before blowing a kiss. chris shoves him gently, and luke feels himself blushing.

“why’d she pick number eleven anyways?” one of the younger campers asks.

“for luke, obviously,” another replies, and everyone turns to look at his uconn jersey with an ‘11’ printed on it.

#speaking from the heart #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan

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