#pjo one-shot

[dandelion-blues]

Fiat Lux

For my best friend, @ilikesand

For my best friend, in which I never would have understood the gravity of the misunderstood without you. Would have never had Octavian become one of my favorite characters. I hope you like it!

Also, on Ao3

Summary (PJO One-Shot):

Octavian knew the signs. He knew the gods were displeased, and still, everyone wanted to disregard the rules. So Octavian was done with sacrificing stuffed animals - the gods would no longer answer to such inconsequential sacrifices.

Apollo takes notice of his dear descendant and grants him a true vision and a choice upon Octavian's sacrifice. Well, it's not like Octavian would take the alternative of sitting back and doing nothing, regardless of what others think. He's already used to people not liking him, and bullying him for things he can't control, so he might as well play the villain if it means saving the world - if it means saving his siblings, siblings who probably don't even remember him.

Octavian

The air was biting, cold and rigid. Octavian didn’t particularly mind though — no, what he minded was the festering storm and rolling thunder clouds on the horizon. As Augur, it was his duty to divine the message the gods have sent him. The glares and spits he got as he headed up to Jupitar’s temple from his fellow comrades notwithstanding.

Thunder boomed as he entered the temple and Octavian hurried along to the altar. He didn't think about the last time Jupiter was in such a mood. The quakes of power searing through his temples as visions of lightning strikes burned villages and people to dust. No, Octavian instead thought of the boisterous laughter of his siblings as a storm boomed around them. Of the times when it was as if the storm was playing along to their childish claps with a loud quake of thunder following them.

Ah, it seems he's getting a bit too sentimental. No matter, Octavian has long since buried his heart under his duty to uphold the order and pride of Camp Jupitar. Much like his hands are stained red in the freshly dead animals offered to the gods, so too will the camp be if they don't appease the gods. Really, what did Praetor Reyna think when she sought to go to the old lands? They are forbidden for a reason.

The gods are angry. And Octavian is done playing with useless stuffed animals. He warned the senate that the old ways were there for a reason — that messing with tradition is treacherous, and yet, the council's soft palate won out. But if they won't get things done and rightfully appease the gods — Octavian will do it himself!

Thus, with a careful and quick slice, blood spilled from a young calf. The red seeped on the altar, as the animal thudded down, its heart beating its last. Octavian breathed in deeply and thanked the calf for its sacrifice on his exhale, for the spirits held in respiration — of the life taken and given. Octavian knew the gods would do much worse if they didn't get their dues.

Just as the patience began to seep away from him as the moments ticked away, the blood starting to dry, Octavian's received a vision with a searing clarity. The Earth claimed thousands of lives in her womb — the screaming and gasping as they were buried alive. The Greeks fighting the Romans in a bloody war as Terra Mater laughed.

Octavian gasped for breath, heaving and trying to calm his pounding heart.

“So, my descendant has finally decided to stop sacrificing useless pillow pets ?!” A silky voice whispered.

But even quiet the voice held power, as the once cold room became almost sweltering hot.

Octavian instantly knelt to the ground, knowing intimately who this was — his ancestor, the source of his bloodline — Apollo.

“My lord,” Octavian spoke reverently and respectfully, staring at the marble tile. Nothing more or less unless given permission.

Octavian heard the footsteps heading toward him, the steps like a tap-tap to a somber dance. The legacy didn't dare look up, even as he saw the golden sandals of the god before him.

The god knelt down a bit, reaching hand up gently but forcefully and grabbed Octavian's chin, making him stare right in the burning gaze of the god. The legacy couldn't formulate words in his mind for how beautiful and terrifying those golden eyes were. Much later all Octavian could think was that he was staring right into the might of the sun, and the god protected him from burning from such a sight.

“Yes, you will do, my favored descendant.” The god whispered in Octavian's ear, the words coiling around his mind like a snake.

And then the god whispered to his descendant a plan of power and glory, and a burning fiery aftermath or of the righteous storm that will save the world from destruction. That should the storm save the world; the son of Jupiter will pay the price of sacrifice. But should Octavian intervene and influence the path of fate… of the scorn and distrust should Octavian survive it. The legacy didn't dare utter a word about how it would hardly be different then things are now and how any price was worth it as long as he stays alive, but somehow, he felt the god knew what he was thinking. The power of the gods uneclipsed and true.

The god’s eyes impossibly softened, looking more akin to the burning embers of dusk than the blazing glory of day, “Yes, my descendant, the one who shines brightly with my gift. You have shown resolve and cunning even as others look down upon and mock you. You are the one who knew that Mors was chained and forced Mars to acknowledge it, even if others began to look at you callously. You knew that you could not spare troops to help the quest to free Death, lest Camp Jupiter would fall. Even if you had to be seen as evil in the process.”

“So, I ask of you, my dear Octavian, are you willing to do what needs to be done?” Apollo asks, his voice stern yet kind.

Octavian looks into his ancestor's eyes, those beautiful balls of flame, and says, “Yes, my lord.”

“Then rise my Pontifex Maximus.” The god commands, and Octavian does.

Even if nothing changes outwardly with the title. There is no crown or laurel Octavian now wears, he feels as if a great force is weighing him down, but still he rises.

Like always, Octavian will do what needs to be done, even if others hate and belittle him afterwards. Still, if it saves the world, if it saves his brother, then what does Octavian care that people will think him evil.

“You will save us all,” The god claims, and then the air swelters, the god burning brightly making the legacy close his eyes from the sheer light.

Then, the air grows cold as the god dreams his presence fit elsewhere, and a faint smell of laurels permeates in the temple. The sacrifice accepted and disappeared from view, even the stains of blood vaporizing before the legacy’s eyes.

All that's left is a paper floating down in the air. Octavian catches it, smudging the still wet blood from his offering on the paper. Both ends of the paper are charcoaled black and only one line can be read: to storm or fire the earth must fall.

Octavian straightens up and smiles grimly. He is the bridge between men and the gods, the Pontifex Maximus, and now has control of the Roman army. It's rather ironic that he now outranks all those that called him too weak and feminine to even wield a sword, but no matter, he knows his duty to camp and to the gods unlike them, who would rather sit by and watch the world burn. Ironic isn’t it, how the Morai twist and weave their tapestry?

Octavian may never be a good man, but he is at least a loyal one, and he will be damned to Hades if he didn’t do all he could to protect what little he has. He upheld the god's standards, even if others have faltered. He left his siblings to their father’s whims, because Lord Jupiter demanded it. Wanted them to prove themselves worthy of the king’s power and authority. Then, his big sister was mauled to the brink of death when she was twelve, and his little brother became more wolf than boy as Lady Juno demanded her prize.

But just this once, Octavian is able to uphold not just the god’s demands, but his personal one’s as well — one’s that he had to abandon so his brother grew up strong and capable. But now, with the future knowledge that Lord Apollo has granted him, Octavian won’t let the world fall to his storm if it’s the last thing he does. He will not damn his little brother to an early death, and so Octavian will brave the agony of burning alive — knowing his brother will be the one to survive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fire was the hearth and the home, safety and warmth, but it was also destruction and searing pain. Why did his kin, the son of Apollo, or anyone else for that matter not tell him he was attached to the onager — to the unstable bomb of Imperial Gold that he devised to kill Mater Terra? Octavian knew he was to be burned alive to enact Lord Apollo’s vision to save the world — to save his little brother. But Octavian didn’t know it would be like this. Didn’t know that he was to be treated like an evil monster that needed to be burned alive.

Octavian knew he acted like a madman in his plans — that no one really liked him prior to his ascension to power. But did no one, not one of his comrades that knew him for years, try and understand why?

Octavian would like to say that it didn’t hurt — that his heart was long dead to the sting of betrayal — but like an innocent “witch” set to be burned at the stake, he was unprepared for how much fire would burn.

But guess it doesn’t matter anymore. With his ancestor’s help things were put in the correct motion, and now he was hurtled through the sky.

The air whipped around him like razors, and two screams joined him.

Octavian saw a vision, like he was no longer in his body of a boy flying on a bronze dragon and the evil Earth Goddess hurtling up in the sky. He watched like the phantom he was about to become as a brilliant fire erupted in the sky — pure golden white, brighter than Apollo’s might — and everyone one down below became blinded from the light.

‘Fiat Lux,’ Octavian thought, let there be light.

But, even as the vision of the blinding light came to him, and Octavian knew he was about to face his imminent death, all he could focus on was finding his siblings in the crowd.

There! He saw them for not even a second, but it was enough for Octavian to accept his demise. They were alive!

Still, that didn’t prepare the legacy for how much his death would hurt.

The might of the inferno charcoaled his flesh and ignited his veins in its all-consuming heat. The screams that ripped out of his throat were soon gone as his voice box crumbled to ash. The ringing in his ears like a blaring siren, but left to the silence of death, just as his eyes melted and empty sockets only saw darkness.

Thump-Thump

The agony of living in a body that should have already been a corpse.

Thump

Why was he still alive? He just wanted this to be over.

…Thump

Octavian for once felt absolutely nothing. It was a kind of numbness that felt wrong, as if he was on the verge of Chaos, of the void of nothingness in which all life sprung from.

…

At last, he can rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scarred soul was taken up and examined like it was a partially interesting thing. Two pitch black eyes stared at the essence of the boy’s soul, looking down upon it from his long black beak.

“Yes, yes, you who have suffered and preserved.” The being spoke to himself, “Of the one who always kept learning, even as the wisdom of what was to come was horrid. Your ancestor has a kindness in his heart that leads to tragedy, but even then, he knew that yours was too much. Of a legacy that would be wrongly scorned, and a family that would be left aching at your seeming betrayal.”

“Well, Apollo was already to be punished he knew,” The being cackled, a trilling sound as his black and white feathers ruffled, and he examined a vial in his dark humanoid hand, “So why not have his son have two cures prepared.”

The being smiled with their beak, and the ashes of the dead was given the Asclepius’ cure for death. Nerves, organs, bones, muscles, ligaments, and flesh all brought back. The once horrifically burned and scarred flesh is now as soft as a newborn’s.

“Why hello,” the being spoke to newly opened golden eyes — eyes marked by divinity, “My little magician.”

“Who are you?” The now revived Octavian spoke, his words tumbling and unfamiliar as if this was his first time speaking.

“Why, my friend. I am Thoth.” The Egyptian God of the Moon, Magic, Writing, Learning, and Wisdom spoke.

“Why-” Octavian spoke softly, not able to bring words to his tumulus thoughts, of the memories of pain that were no longer felt as his heart beat strongly in his chest.

“-am I alive?” The god finished the legacy. “Well let’s just say Apollo had a bit of foresight, and didn’t want to lose his favorite descendant.”

The god stroked his neck feathers with his humanoid hand, “Your gods are quite possessive after all. And of course, how could I not help when he came to me speaking of a legacy of two pantheons. You are quite the commodity, practically nonexistent, so how could I resist?”

Octavian’s mind was whirling, but that’s when it clicked. No wonder he didn’t recognize the god’s name. The legacy remembered when he was very little and knew nothing of his father’s place in Camp Jupiter, when his mother was still alive and present in his life. When she brought her family to the movie’s she started in — of an ancient civilization that worshiped gods with animal heads and human bodies. A film about the Egyptian Gods that his father was none too thrilled to see, calling them ridiculous. Of the repercussions that followed as his parents started yelling and fighting and soon a little girl boy with blonde hair and electric blue eyes was born, who was not his father’s daughter son — and, thus, is Octavian’s half sister brother.

Turns out the youngest sibling born of adultery having the same electric blue eyes as the eldest sibling — a searing blue like a strike from the heavens — was too much for Father to stand.

Then, the rest is history. Father took Octavian away from his starlet mother, and his half siblings, and introduced him to camp Jupiter and all the gods they worship — and started training him for his future duty as Augur. Of the harsh words and punishments should Octavian not excel at what he was taught. Of the sparse news outlets that Octavian snuck out to watch — of his mother’s falling fame, and his older sister running away. Of the visions that started to eat away at him — of screams and suffering.

Then, the son of Jupitar came to camp — with all too familiar electric blue eyes, and Octavian knew, he knew that this boy that was more wolf pup than boy (because he was raised by Lupa, even given a new name by the Wolf Goddess than by their human mother) was his little brother. That those harsh words his father called his mother now made sense as Octavian looked into those familiar eyes, the echoes of childhood and innocence long gone. Understanding that their Father called Beryl whore for a reason, as she fell into the God King’s lust not just once but twice when she was a married woman. But the second time, Juno wouldn’t abide her husband’s transgressions and took the child as her champion — to mold him into a perfect soldier. Never having the chance to just be an innocent child, but to be a slave forced into servitude.

Octavian could do nothing but stay away as the wolf boy was turned into a perfect solider, as Jason was isolated from having a family or friends of his own! As his skin was branded at 3 years old!

But, of course, even if Jason, his little brother, was allowed to live — even if only for his potential to bring Juno glory, Thalia would not be spared, even if Juno seemed to turn a blind eye. The slight of Jupiter cheating not once but twice, was too much. And so, when Octavian was an angry ten-year-old, Thalia was just twelve, and Jason was six — his big sister was dead. And all Octavian had to show for it was the tears streaming down his face as he dreamt of his big sister being ripped apart by hellhound. No vision years later of her surviving erased the pain, knowing that he could do nothing by watching as her blood and bones became bark and sap.

“Are you alright, little magician?” Thoth spoke softly.

Octavian blinked, tasting a bit of salt on his tongue. He wiped at his face and oh, he was crying. He laughed a bit, the sound bitter and hoarse. His siblings probably didn’t even remember who he was, he was hardly in their lives after all, so what right does he have to cry over them?!

“Yes, I’m fine.” Octavian lied, his eyes red and stuffy.

The god thankfully didn’t call him out on his lie, “Well, in that case, I think it’s time I start to teach you about your other heritage. Of the pharaoh in which you and your father descended from.”

Octavian inclined his head, only a numb echo of surprise panting in his skull. He wanted to avoid his intrusive thoughts, so focusing on some hopefully strenuous tasks instead of recounting his broken family was very much welcomed.

“Well, you see, as a descendant of a pharaoh, and the deal Apollo made, you are now my host…” Thoth went on to explain Octavian’s heritage and his expectation as a host to Thoth.

Octavian took it all in clinically. Truthfully, it felt like a traded one cage for another, but at least this time Octavian’s wings weren’t clipped. In fact, he now had an avatar form that had wings, generously gifted to him from his new connection to Thoth — not that it helped with Octavian’s fear of flying when he remembered his death.

The god, his god, was surprisingly human in caring about and helping Octavian overcome this fear, but the legacy knew gods — they didn’t just help out of the kindness of their hearts. That’s just not how they work, it’s hardly even how humans work either. Octavian would know — he’s analyzed people’s behaviors constantly over the years to make sure he reacted appropriately — as people all too often liked to answer with their fists when he didn’t react the right way.

Really, Octavian did not understand why people ask how you are if they don’t actually want to know?!

That’s why Octavian liked the gods — they were true to themselves, to their essence. And Thoth, Octavian, was starting to learn was somehow a lot like him. He liked to read and learn everything he could. He was blunt and honest… and his family life was a mess.

Octavian really shouldn’t be relating in such a way to a god, but as Thoth's host he found himself learning more and more about the god. He found himself soaring through the skies and learning about the constellations with vigor, and laughing at the god’s misconceptions to modern technologies. He threw himself at his host duties, though he did avoid the other avatars that tried to contact him like the plague. And he found himself trying to forget of the siblings that thought him dead, trying to live a new life without any human interaction. Of course, like a prophecy, you can’t avoid the inevitable forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wind that tousled around Octavian felt like freedom, and he spread out his white ibis wings, soaring through the sky, while the light of Apollo gently warmed his skin. Octavian felt free, flying above the world — everything down below a spec to his eyes, and no one could reach him as he soared high above in the sky.

Well, Octavian should have known not to think in absolutes. No normal person could reach him, but well it’s not as if he was prepared for someone to literally crash into him as he flew in the cloudless sky.

One second Octavian was simply flying through the air, and the next he was hurtling towards the ground — someone screaming at him as they knocked him out of the sky.

Octavian’s heart thudded in his chest, panic beginning to take hold on in his veins, but then everything seemed to stop — the air seemed to solidify around him, and a silence took hold around the area. There was no wind, no nothing. Nothing but the labored breath of two individuals.

“Sorry, for flying into you. I didn’t expect there to be anyone else in the sky,” a voice, an all too familiar voice, spoke.

Octavian would never, could never forget that voice, even if the River Lethe took his memories, took everything that made him Octavian — his soul would recognize that voice. His little brother: Jason Grace.

Octavian spoke up trying to keep his voice from wavering as faced his little brother — facing those pure blue eyes, “It’s no problem. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here either.”

Then, his little brother smiled, pure and bright, and laughed, “Yeah, my boyfriend is never going to let me live this down. He said I needed to watch where I was flying, and I told him that there was literally nothing in the sky. Guess I was wrong.”

Boyfriend?! What, Jason is a baby — he’s only 16 why does he have a boyfriend?!

“Oh, sounds like your boyfriend cares a lot about you,” he better anyways, or Octavian will make sure that the body is never found.

Jason’s entire face lit up, an enormous grin on his lips and his eyes went fond as he spoke, “Yeah, Percy’s the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

“Perseus Jackson is your boyfriend?!” Octavian couldn’t help but shriek.

Jason's face instantly closed off, his body tensing, and he asked his tone growing harsher, “Who are you, and how do you know my boyfriend?”

“Anyone who knows a lick of the Greco-Roman Pantheon knows of Percy Jackson,” Octavian spoke, his voice wavering as Jason still glared at him with those blue eyes.

“That doesn’t answer my first question.” Jason said, his voice holding little emotion — the air seeming to tighten its hold around Octavian.

“It’s time,” Thoth’s voice echoes in Octavian’s head.

Octavian shutters, but he sighs in defeat. He knew that he couldn’t avoid this forever, but he thought, he thought he would have to to prepare for their reunion.

“Very well, but can we first land?” Octavian speaks up, and sees that Jason remains unwavering, and so he vows, “I swear on the River Styx that I mean you no harm and will tell you who I am once we land.”

An echoing boom instantly is heard, and Jason’s hold on the air snaps. The two fall through the air, and Octavian instinctively flaps his wings, but Jason is still falling.

“Jason!” Octavian yells and speeds off to his little brother as he hurtles through the sky.

Octavian catches his little brother before he goes splat, and Octavian yells, his voice worried, “Why did you not use your powers?!”

Jason breathed in deeply, his voice a bit panicked, “I was trying, but I couldn’t focus!”

Octavian sighed in relief, as he could feel his little brother once again command the air, and separated from him, “I’m glad that you’re alright.”

Jason gives Octavian an indiscernible look, and nods his head, “Yeah, let’s just land, alright.”

Octavian agrees, and soon enough the two land in some park, the autumn tree leaves falling gently around the two.

“So you wanted to know who I was,” Octavian spoke up, calling off his avatar form, the beginning of recognition and shock beginning to seep into his little brother’s form, “Well, I’m Octavian Grace …” Neither of his parents deserved to be parents, but at least with his mother’s last name he shared it with his siblings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brother!” Jason cried, instantly slamming into the older’s body, wrapping him in a hug.

Octavian instinctively hugged back, his shock delaying his reaction — Jason knew, knew that they were brothers.

“How?” Octavian could only ask, still startled as Jason held him tightly crying on his shoulder. And oh how much Jason has grown to be able to reach his shoulder — he used to barely reach Octavian’s middle.

Jason looked up at Octavian, tears streaming down his face, and sobbed “T-thalia r-remebered y-you, and s-spoke at your f-funera-al.” Jason held onto Octavian tighter, as if he was going to drop dead any minute, “And then A-apollo t-told e-everyone h-how you s-saved us. How you s-sacrificed y-yourself.”

Octavian had no words, no words to describe the complete and utter shock he was in, so all he could do was gape and say, “What?”

Then, Jason gasped, “Thalia.” He grabbed Octavian’s hand, “You need to see her.”

Octavian felt completely overwhelmed, but at the same time he felt a smidgen of hope swell in his chest as Jason led him away. He was going to see his big sister again.

Apparently, Thalia and Jason must have been having a picnic, because there she was on a blanket surrounded by sandwiches and fruits laid out before her. Octavian ignored the other person — the aforementioned boyfriend that was sitting there as well.

She still looked so young, baby fat still clearly on her face, despite the fact that she’s 21, almost 22. She’s eternally 15, never able to grow up, to mature because she’s sworn an oath to Lady Diana.

“Who’s-,” Thalia muttered as she turned to look at Octavian being dragged by Jason, but then her eyes went wide with recognition.

Her eyes were alight, like lightning striking through a storm, as she hurtled herself at Octavian.

“Tavi!” She called out trapping Octavian in a tight embrace.

Octavian held his sister closely, the nickname making him reminisce when his big sister thought Octavian was an old man's name, and he needed a name fit for being her little brother. A time before his father took him away from her.

“You’re alive!” Thalia cried, relief awash in her face. “I never thought I’d see you again Tavi.”

“I’m here.” Octavian murmured and looked over to meet Jason’s eyes, and beckoned him over.

Jason didn’t hesitate and was embraced by his two older siblings, his face held in the crook of Octavian’s neck, as the middle sibling bent down to hold the two.

Everything felt right and whole again. His family was alive and well!

Of course, Octavian had to eventually address the elephant in the room.

“So…” Octavian began awkwardly as his siblings pulled back a bit, but never far away enough to not hold onto him — the memories of his death still too fresh, “Perseus Jackson, my little brother’s boyfriend?”

Jason's face went bright red, and he averted his eyes to look at Percy.

Percy hesitantly approached the trio of siblings, standing nearer Jason, and eloquently greeted, “Hello.”

Thalia's face palmed, and spoke, “This is little brother 2.0, also known as our future brother-in-law.”

Percy and Jason both sputtered but didn’t exactly refute her statement.

Octavian just simply observed, a small smirk growing on his face, “Well, nice to meet you brother-in-law.” It feels good to tease his younger brother, after sixteen years, and finally Octavian is free to just interact with him — to finally place his family before duty.

Percy’s face went as red as a tomato, but he smiled and held Jason’s hand tight in his.

“Stop teasing us,” Jason whined, pouting a little bit like a sad puppy.

Percy nodded his head, giving a look that reminded Octavian of a seal pup. These two.

“It’s only our right to tease little brothers,” Thalia smirked, “Tavi got a lot of catching up to do, after all.”

“Indeed.” Octavian agreed.

The two teens whined no’s, but their huge smiles gave them away.

Octavian thought, ‘This must be Elysium.’

It wasn’t perfect, too many distrusted the hero people lauded him to be when he returned to see Camp, and those that shifted their stances gave Octavian whiplash. But Octavian never did what he did for glory or claimed to be a hero — he did it for them, not the world after all. Still, Octavian will take this little piece of Elysium that he’s been granted with his siblings, and make sure every breath they take will never be their last.

Notes:

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed my reading and the journey!

Through learning and re-reading about Octavian, he really is hated upon too much. Really, I view him as someone who doesn't like when other breaks the rules, as he views the rules are rigid, that they are there for a reason and meant to be upheld. Rick also describes everyone who meets him as instantly distrusting and not liking him, even as going as far as to say how is more effeminate traits are unappealing. Octavian was really just done dirty.

Anyways, Octavian's just a lil guy, who's also insanely tall, and as per my friend's head cannon, and is half-siblings with Thalia and Jason Grace. I honestly really love this, and my friend is such a good writer. I can't wait to read their Octavian fic!

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[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 cabin confessions : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

y/n loves gushing about Percy to her siblings, Percy accidentally finds out about this and he's absolutely obsessed with it.

author: i'll never get tired of cabin ten reader x percy, probs will write more abt them because ugh i just love them, also mentions of marriage!!

She sits on her bed, a brush in her hand as she gently runs it through the little girl's hair, her touch tender and soothing, pouring care into each stroke through the knots.

Her siblings sit in a circle around her on the floor, listening to her and hanging onto her every word as she recalls the time she was just friends with Percy.

"How come you two started dating?" Lacy asks, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

They already know how the story goes, they have heard about it at least twice now, but every time they look as interested on it as if it was their first time hearing about it.

"We were friends for a long time. I always thought that's all we would ever be." She starts, settling down the brush. "Percy was just... you know, Percy. All charming and brave and, well— completely clueless about my crush on him."

One of them giggles. "You had a crush on him first? wasn't he the one that asked you out?"

"Yes, he was, but it took him long enough to do it." she replies, smiling fondly at the memory as she starts to braid her sister's hair. "We kissed first, can you believe it? and even after that, Percy was still a nervous wreck when he asked me out. It was like he had forgotten how to talk and kept stumbling over his words, I honestly thought he was choking at some point."

The group erupts into laughter.

"And did you say yes right away?" Another sister pipes up, leaning forward with anticipation.

"I don't think he would've survived if I didn’t." She grins, her fingers working on the braid. "He was so sweet, he took me out for a picnic by the lake and he was honestly... just so perfect. I couldn't say no to him."

One of her brothers smirks, leaning back. "I would've made him work harder for it."

"He's worth it. He's always worth it." a chorus of 'awws' fill the room just as she's finished with her Lily's braid. "Okay, who's next?"

Lily grins at her and goes to sit down with the rest of the siblings, happy with her new braid, and the next sister in line takes her place on the bed while y/n grabs the brush again.

She knows they're not done with their questions. "And how did you two kiss for the first time?"

Beaming at the question, she tells the whole story again and again, going through the details while keeping everyone's hair knotless and braided.

Percy has always been amused by y/n's relationship with her siblings. Besides Tyson, he doesn't have anyone else to share a cabin with, so he doesn’t really get too many bonding opportunities as she does. She always tells him about the endless afternoons of talking, the movie nights, the blanket forts, and he can't help but feel just the tiniest bit of envy as he listens.

Right now, Tyson isn't even around because he's too busy to come back to camp this summer. So even if Percy's trying hard to respect his girlfriend's quality time with her siblings this afternoon, he ends up missing her too much.

Which leads him here, finally giving up on spending time by himself, he heads towards cabin 10, hoping y/n will let him crash her sleepover because he just needs to see her.

However, just when he's about to knock on the wooden door, he notices it's slightly cracked open. Laughter spills out, and he can even pick up her laugh among the others.

He doesn’t mean to pry, really, but it's not his fault that just when he's about to announce himself, he hears one of her little sisters asking. "And do you think you'll marry him?"

Percy stops right on his track, something just tells him they're talking about him. His suspicions only get confirmed when y/n is the one replying to the question. "Well, we're still young. But I can't picture myself marrying anyone else, you know?"

Gasps and excited chatter fill the room. Some of them beg for her to be flower girls at the wedding, while she tries, and fails, to get them to quiet down.

Percy's frozen in his spot. His heart skips a beat or two at her words. He leans against the doorframe, unable to stop the smile creeping across his face.

"Do you think he wants to marry you, too?" another one asks when the room finally falls silent again.

He does. Percy wants to make his presence known just to answer the question himself.

y/n chuckles softly "Well that's something that you'd have to ask him. But I sure hope so."

"You should propose to him instead." one suggests, they all break into a fit of giggles.

"Maybe I should. Do you reckon he'd like that?" She asks playfully.

Another sibling chimes in "He'd probably faint right on the spot."

Percy can't help himself anymore. Before he can think it through, his knuckles softly knock on the door. Everyone immediately falls silent, turning to look at the doorway, where he's shyly standing.

y/n's smile grows bigger once she looks up and finds him there. "Percy!"

"hope i'm not interrupting anything." he steps in, trying to keep his cool even though his heart is racing.

The Aphrodite kids exchange mischievous looks, some covering their mouths to hide their giggles. Lacy's the one to pipe up. "We were just talking about you!"

"Oh, really?" Percy has to act as if he didn’t know that already, raising his eyebrows as he glances at y/n, her cheeks are already tinted a pretty shade of pink. "Good things, I hope?"

"Of course" she recovers quickly, making some space for him to sit beside her on the bed. "What are you doing here?"

Percy carefully steps around the circle of Aphrodite kids on the floor and plops down beside her. "Just missed you." He replies simply, already reaching for her hand.

Her siblings immediately protest. "Don't distract her! it's her turn to braid."

She laughs, setting the brush down and instead taking Percy's hand, her delicate fingers lacing with his. "Don't worry, I'll still braid everyone's hair. Percy's just here to join the fun."

He chuckles, playfully shrugging. "I've always wanted to learn how to braid, I guess"

Her siblings break into laughter, and y/n rolls her eyes affectionately. That's how Percy ends up being instructed by a bunch of Aphrodite children on how to make a perfect braid while he listens to their chatter, laughing as they share stories with him.

Every now and then, y/n sneaks a glance at him, her eyes soft with affection and he remembers what he overheard. He will never forget it. But everytime she looks at him, he knows she wasn't lying just by the love he's able to see in her eyes.

Later, when everyone is happy with their braids and every story they could think about has been told, they start to drift away to their different sides of the cabin and Percy finds his perfect opportunity to mention what he overheard. He can't keep it to himself any longer.

"For the record." He starts, tugging her closer to him. "I can't picture myself marrying anyone else either."

Her breath catches and her face turns crimson. She immediately hides her face against his chest. "You weren't supposed to hear that!"

Percy laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "Just let me take care of the proposal, yeah?"

She's utterly embarrased, but she finally laughs, swatting his chest lightly as she mumbles. "Deal"

They settle back into each other’s arms, the warmth of the moment lingering between them as they think about how lucky they are to have each other. Next time, when her siblings gather around her bed asking questions, she’ll have some news to share with them.

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke x fem!reader

you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.

warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.

And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.

Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.

He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.

"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.

You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."

"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.

"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.

"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"

With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.

He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.

The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.

"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.

Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.

With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."

Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.

The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.

"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.

As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.

Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.

But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.

You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."

“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.

The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.

You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.

"We'll take them" you declared.

The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.

As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.

Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.

"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."

Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.

The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.

A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.

"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.

Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.

The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.

Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.

Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.

One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.

"Hilarious" he remarked.

Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.

The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.

The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.

As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.

Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.

Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.

There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.

He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.

“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."

Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.

"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."

You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.

Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"

You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.

Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."

“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.

You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."

Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.

Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.

"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"

"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.

A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.

Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.

Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.

A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.

“Seriously!?”

There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.

You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.

Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"

His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.

"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."

The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?

You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.

"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."

He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.

A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.

"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.

The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."

Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.

You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.

"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."

Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.

A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.

He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.

"Are you a virgin, Luke?"

The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.

"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.

Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.

His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.

He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.

You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.

"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.

Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.

"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.

The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…

"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”

Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?

Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?

But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.

"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. You began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.

His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.

"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.

Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.

Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.

But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.

Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.

You know, the classic shit.

But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.

So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.

But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.

He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.

You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.

“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.

He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.

You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.

He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.

All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.

He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?

He had to thank the gods for his luck.

“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.

He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”

Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.

“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.

You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.

“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”

Now that was new.

If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.

“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.

“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”

He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.

The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.

In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.

It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.

Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.

“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”

“What do you think?”

part two <3

[demigods-posts]

percy jackson has a driver's license. i would just love to know how that went for him. how many times he had to take the test because his instructor kept being a monster in disguise. or better yet. him making undocumented turns and routes to avoid the hydra a couple of blocks ahead of him, or the minotaur that miraculously senses anytime he's in a car and won't leave him alone since he was in sixth grade.

[ofswordsandpens]

I wish I could be optimistic about the second pjo season, I really do, but every time I see that hopeful sentiment of "maybe the show runners will listen to the complaints about season 1 and fix it going forward!!" it reminds me of another notable time that RR's work received a not insignificant amount of criticism (the Blood of Olympus), and in response he wrote a passive aggressive one-shot wherein the seven literally just sit and verbally justify everything that happened asdlfksdjfsdf

[sayoneee]

☆ POISON

“miss her, kiss her, love her, wrong move you’re dead, that girl is poison” - bell biv devoe (2.2k)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite! reader. acquaintances to friends to secretish lovers. silena + drew mentions. during tlt.

kashaf’s note: u cant tell me a group of teenagers lived together at summer camp and no one had secret parties. dont @ me for the 90s music references (+ i imagine avantika vandanapu as silena, and momona tamada as drew)

i. and if there was a problem / yo, i'll solve it

“CASTELLAN?” YOU APPROACHED him slowly, tone cautious as if you were speaking to a wounded animal, although in this case, maybe you were, as you reached for his bruised knuckles, remaining persistent, even as he tried to withdraw his hands out of your grasp. “why’d you do that?”

“did i need a reason?” there is a forced jocularity to his words, a well-practiced mask he is never seen without, and you cringe slightly, your gaze catching the grimace that twists his lips. his attempt at a ‘roguish’ grin falls flat, the expression a discordant note against the backdrop of his injuries. luke’s already busted lip splits open, a thin line of crimson carving a river down his chin. he moves to wipe it off the back of his arm, but you’ve already pulled off the bandana tying up your hair (a birthday present from a half-sibling) and begun rubbing at his face.

luke’s eyes widened at the gesture.

despite being tentative acquaintances since your arrival, you’re still annoyed that luke castellan continues to underestimate just how much of his heart he wears on his sleeve — or rather, just how well you manage to see past his facade. his blatant lie hangs in the air, unacknowledged. instead, you deliberately shift your gaze to the purples and blacks that mar his knuckles, setting about wrapping them with your bandana, obscuring the damage.

“i could’ve done that myself,” luke says, amused, his words lightly appreciative. still, at your answering glare, he tosses his hands in the air in surrender as ‘ice ice baby’ continues in the background, uninterrupted, “but thank you, though.”

“i’m no apollo kid, but it’ll do,” you shrug instead of accepting the gratitude, tugging him to his feet, ensuring to grab his uninjured hand, and hauling him outside. 

“you’re no apollo kid, and you decide to take the injured man away from where the apollo kids are actually gathered,” luke muses, once again entertained with himself (was there any other emotion this boy could experience besides amusement?), once the lights of the apollo cabin are so far behind you, neither of you could fully see each other.

“you’ll live,” you say, scowling at him through the darkness, forgetting he couldn’t actually see you.

“and you’re moody for a daughter of aphrodite,” he says, still holding onto your hand as he trails after you.

you stop in your tracks, pinch the bridge of your nose, count to three, and finally turn to luke, who still has his stupidly pleased-with-himself expression on his face. “luke castellan, if you don’t end up dying of some tragic fate or the other i will hunt you down myself.”

“duly noted.”

“holy hera, do you even want to know where i’m taking you?”

“nah, i think the mystery really adds some suspense.”

“that’s it, i give up,” you say, before beginning to drag him back to the apollo cabin, when he plants his feet in the dirt ground firmly, grinning crookedly at you as the moonlight finally shines through the clouds, suddenly bathing him in a luminescent glow.

“nah, c’mon, let’s go to your spot.”

you glare at him, watching how his stupid grin only seems to grow in size, an annoyingly endearing trait. with a sigh, you continued to drag him along, scowling each time he tried to make a quip.

“what if we get to your spot, and i find out this was all just a ploy to murder me?” luke muses out loud, looking thoughtful for once.

“do you seriously believe that if i was gonna murder you, i wouldn’t have done it by now?” you say, pausing when he shrugged in agreement, “we’re here though, whiney baby.” 

luke’s eyebrows rose as he took in the secluded area near the dunes, finally meeting your gaze again. “aw, i can’t believe you just planned out our first date.”

“i seriously don’t know what any of my half-siblings see in you.”

“so you’ve discussed me then.”

“shut up, i dragged you all the way here, because even though i know you like attention, i don’t think you wanted the attention you were getting from punching that poor hephaestus kid in the jaw,” you say shockingly sincerely, startling both yourself and luke.

luke doesn’t say anything, letting what seems like a confession hang in the air, instead, sits down near the water, and rubs a hand across his jaw, watching you as you follow suit, sitting next to him. 

after spending what seems like minutes in silence, watching the waves lap at the shore, luke finally speaks, staring out at the horizon, his tone slightly hollow, and devoid of all things you have come to label as luke castellan, looking eerily similar to the night he had returned from his infamous quest, “heroes aren’t meant to be happy.”

you drew your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head. “i know — achilles, orpheus, theseus…” you trail off.

“and hercules,” luke adds, almost melancholy. 

“i think i’ve pretty much accepted i’ll die young,” you say, your words coming out in nothing but a whisper despite the two of you being alone.

luke nods in solidarity, lost in thought. “it shouldn’t have to be like this,” he finally says, voice hardening.

ii. talking sweet and looking fine / i get kinda hectic inside

“okay, for this technique, i’ll need a partner,” luke says, looking straight at you. “can you come up here?”

deciding to oblige him, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly, smiling as you joined him in front of the other campers, who had begun whispering when he called out to you. in the crowd, just past your half-siblings looks of shock, you can see the stolls passing around a wad of cash. 

luke addresses the crowd once more, “i need everyone to be paying close attention here, we’ll be demonstrating how to parry, or counterblock for the newcomers.”

as both of you get into position, luke smiles, “don’t forget to go easy on me.”

you laughed, “don’t bet on it, castellan.”

your demonstration ends up feeling like eons, as the two of you continue to dance around each other, parrying and jabbing, and lunging, and striking, and parrying. both of you are panting, your faces flushed as you continue, and just when it seems like you have the upper hand, luke side steps, and easily parries your finishing blow, disarming you in the process.

you laugh as you yield, loving the exhilaration from the fight, but when the two of you face the campers once more, more than half of the crowd is slack-jawed. 

luke, ever the showman, can’t resist a grin, “not only was that your lesson to not underestimate aphrodite cabin, but also to show you the level we’re trying to get you guys to. now, partner up and spread out.”

before you can turn back to address luke again, drew is suddenly at your side. 

“what the fuck was that?” drew hisses, grasping your elbow and leading you away from the training session in full swing, pulling you into your cabin, where silena sits on your bed (still in her armor), clearly awaiting this impromptu confrontation.

“what was what?” you choose to feign innocence, examining your nails before glancing up to see the twin expressions of horror on both silena and drew’s faces. 

“do not act dumb,” drew eyes you coolly, “it’s so beneath you.”

“i’m not acting dumb,” you rolled your eyes at the both of them.

“yes you —”

“you and castellan,” silena interjects, “we want details, now.”

“what details even are there to give?”

silena grabs drew’s arm, pulling her back from apparently nearly pouncing on you. 

drew rolls her eyes at the hand on her arm, and then focuses on you, “you’re literally our next head counselor and you and castellan had never so much looked at each other until this week and now he’s asking you to help demonstrate training techniques, like hello?”

silena snapped her fingers in agreement, “c’mon, you can’t deny that something didn’t happen.”

“nothing did,” you crossed your arms across your chest.

“you know what,” drew says, “if you wanna be like this fine. come find me when you finally decide to — i don’t know — talk to your sisters?” she storms out of the cabin, leaving you alone with silena, who sighs, gives you an apologetic look and goes after drew. 

“well, that was a shit show.”

you whirl around to see your head counselor standing at the entry of the cabin, poised as ever, not a hair out of place as she stood, examining her manicure, looking bored, as usual. 

“couldn’t agree more,” you sigh, sitting on your bed, head in your hands. 

your head counselor takes a seat beside you, “look, i don’t care for whatever petty drama just unfolded, you’ll get over it, daughters of aphrodite and all,” she waves a hand in the air, “— but for now, we have more pressing issues. i’m gonna leave for college soon, and the entire cabin knows you’re my successor.”

you nod as she paused, meeting your gaze, and you can’t help but examine the perfect shape of her eyeliner, scanning her entire picture-perfect face in an attempt to discern her mood.

“i don’t care whatever it is you have going on with castellan, but you need to complete the rite of passage, before you become head counselor.”

“the rite of passage?” you asked, having only heard the phrase in hushed conversations around camp, the knot in your stomach tightening as she continued.

“no child of aphrodite is a true child of aphrodite without having broken their first love’s heart,” is all she offers as an explanation, completely straight-faced. “castellan is perfect for your rite of passage.”

your eyebrows furrow as you consider her words, and with a final nod, and gentle squeeze of your arm, she leaves you with both her legacy and your mother’s legacy in your hands. 

“oh, and before i forget, whoever doesn’t do it always ends up cursed.”

iii. now let me pray to keep you from / the perils that will surely come

luke’s shoulder brushing against yours has turned out to be extremely distracting, and now you can understand why your cabin is more notorious for breaking hearts, rather than falling in love. you can’t seem to focus on anything except how close his hand is to yours, even the golden hue of the fire or the sing-alongs can’t divert your attention. 

the distance between the two of you grows imperceptibly smaller when luke suddenly clears his throat, on the verge of saying something, when a twig snaps behind the two of you, causing you to jump apart and look at the intruder. 

annabeth is standing behind the two of you, looking faintly apologetic, but also terrified. “sorry if i interrupted you guys,” she offers, rubbing her arm.

you share a glance with luke, nodding at him. “you weren’t — luke can always talk to me later,” you say, offering her your trademark smile.

annabeth nodded, “thank you,” as luke gently squeezed your hand before getting up to comfort her.

“don’t thank me, sweetheart.”

you’re at your usual spot when luke rejoins you, running a hand through his curls. “sorry,” he says, “someone left a spider in athena cabin, and no one could kill it.”

you chuckled, “if it wasn’t a total accident, i’d bet money it was travis and connor.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up at the mention of his siblings, “i think you’re spending too much time around them to pick up on their habits.”

“or maybe, i’m spending too much time around you,” you offer, smirking at him, trying to ignore the funny feeling in your chest as he smiles genuinely at you.

“i like to say i’m an acquired taste,” luke shrugs, sneaking a glance at you as you laugh at him. 

“i think i’ve acquired that taste,” you say, without thinking, before realizing how phenomenally stupid that sounded.

luke smiled widely, “y’know, if you weren’t a daughter of aphrodite, i would’ve told you how corny that was —” you shoved him here, “— ow, let me finish, but i actually am really glad to hear that.”

“no wonder,” you smirked, “i can practically hear your heart beating out of your chest.”

“okay, look who’s confident all of a sudden.”

you shut him up with a soft kiss that has him seeing stars. 

iv. i know what’s weighing on your mind / you can be sure i know my part

“again, what the hell is going on with you and castellan?” silena asks one early morning before breakfast, birds chirping as she’s lining her eyes with kajal, glancing at the mirror in her hand as she sits at the top of her bed.

“nothing.”

“i literally saw you guys making out and had to scrub my eyes out with soap,” drew adds, looking extremely disgusted at the thought of relieving that experience, as she paints a fresh coat of nail polish. 

“fine, you’re right,” you concede, curling your eyelashes. 

“don’t you have to do the rite of passage, though?” drew asks, pausing to look up at you.

“i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you say slowly, setting the eyelash curler down on the vanity.

“excuse me?” your head counselor has her hands on her hips, the annoyed expression on her face marring her perfect features, towering over you as she stands in front of your bed.

“i said, i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you enunciate, looking up at her, maintaining eye contact.

the temperature of the cabin seemed to drop ten degrees, and for a minute or so, your stare remained unbroken until she shrugged. “your decision... but don’t say i didn’t warn you,” before dramatically whirling around and heading to the pavilion.

silena gave you a look as drew arched her brow, and you simply shrugged in response.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[pumpkinbxtch]

HEYY!! I was wondering if you could do a Leo Valdez x fem Poseidon reader blurb with some smut but fluff in it. It’s the two on the beach and fem reader is just playing in the water and stumbles across a baby sea turtle and just has a conversation but after it’s just her and Leo hanging out together and going back to the Poseidon cabin(Percy isn’t home yet) and they have a quickie and makeout but Percy just walks in on them making out in her bed.. and after a few days Leo would rub it in Percy’s face as a joke.

“𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞! ”

— leo valdez x f!daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings; recommended for +18, smut and nsfw things happening.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

tags; fingering, language, unprotected sex, fluff, some cringy things, sex jokes. a/n; I think I did better on this one! thanks for your request.

— Really? Oh no, but she was your friend!

The more the conversation went on, the less Leo understood what you were talking about with that turtle. In fact, he didn't even know you could talk to turtles, but the way your breasts looked in that swimsuit when you bent over was enough reason to keep watching while pretending to be interested.

You stood up slightly, and the sand stuck to your legs made him want to brush it off himself, grain by grain, just to be closer to you, or even inside you. Leo cleared his throat and tried to distract himself to avoid those thoughts, not necessarily because he felt bad having them, but because, what was worse than imagining it and not being able to have it right then? Because you kept talking to the damn turtle.

Ten minutes that felt like an hour passed, and he was getting more and more impatient to get you inside until he finally saw the oviparous creature head back to the sea. With a smile that looked more like a grimace of discomfort, Leo stood up and took you by the waist with a familiar expression on his face.

— How about we go inside? — he offered, his hands sliding down your back covered by the still slightly wet swimsuit. Your eyes curiously searched his, and seeing the way he looked at you and the warmth radiating from his body, you raised an eyebrow slightly.

— For something special, Valdez? — you teased, and he smirked sarcastically while intertwining his fingers with yours as he began to drag you to cabin three. — But, what about Percy? Uh– he could show up any moment — you stammered, and Leo turned around to carry you bridal style to avoid you stepping on anything dangerous with your bare feet.

— It'll be... quick — he murmured in your ear, and you squeezed your thighs at the hungry tone of his voice.

Quick as lightning, he pulled down the curtains, locked the door, and lifted you onto the dresser, not stopping kissing your salty skin. Anywhere your skin was exposed, he tried to leave a kiss or a bite.

He pulled you close to his body, and you moaned feeling his hardness against the lower part of your stomach, the thought of doing it this way had you too turned on. The adrenaline had you captive, and Leo was gripped by it. His hands roamed your body, and with a slap to your pussy, your breath hitched. He hummed and struggled with the elastic fabric that covered you to touch you. When he finally managed, he smiled while kissing the curve between your jaw and neck.

— It's always wet in the ocean, isn't it, babe? — his deep voice drew an unthinking whimper from you, followed by more as Leo played with your folds, making wet, slippery sounds that made you lift your hips involuntarily.

— Uh, Leo... — you moaned as he slid a finger into your pussy without warning, still kissing your neck. You impatiently wrapped your hands around him, holding on as he thrust into you, your legs trying to close until he had to place a leg between yours to keep them open.

Your juices ran down his hand, and as he felt you getting closer, he had to stop, drawing a whine from you. He gave you sweet kisses on your cheeks.

— Sorry, mi amor, but I need to feel you inside. Do you want that? — the last part came out as more of a plea, and you understood, seeing the sun setting. Dinner would be soon, and they'd wonder where you were, not to mention some of your stuff was still on the beach. With the same need he seemed to have, you nodded frantically. He roughly pulled you off the wooden dresser, turning you around to face the mirror on the bureau.

In the reflection, you saw Leo with darker-than-usual eyes and a cocky grin, noticing the blush on your cheeks at the sight of you both, hot and bothered. That tightened your walls, and you felt his long hands pushing you to lean on your forearms while nibbling your ear.

— Babe... — he purred in your ear, not taking his eyes off your figure.

One hand started pulling down a strap of your swimsuit while the other massaged your clit over the increasingly annoying fabric. Leo kissed your shoulder, quickly pulling down the other part of your swimsuit to free your breasts. He growled at the sight of your erect nipples and the remaining grains of sand on your body. If he had more time, he would have brushed them off one by one with you lying on the bed, but you were on a fast track.

— That's better — he said, pinching one of your nipples, making you lift your ass towards him, rubbing against his aching dick, already melting to be inside you.

— Damn, this damn swimsuit works wonders for your body — he mumbled, dragging the words as he pumped his dick, barely touching your ass, making you more impatient. His fingers pulled the blue fabric aside again, rubbing your entrance with his pre-cum covered tip.

— Damn, Leo, didn't you say you were in a hurry? — you complained as your hips sought deeper contact. Leo loved to tease and take his time, but you were right, time was short. He buried his length inside you, pounding his hips against yours with no delicacy.

Your velvety walls took him so well he thought he might come right then, but he tried to hold on a bit longer, watching his dick disappear inside you and the way your tits bounced with each thrust. He was on the edge.

— Uh, damn. You squeeze me so good — he growled, leaning more onto your back to get deeper. You stifled a moan, sobbing with your mouth open and eyes glassy, focused on your boyfriend, only making you want him deeper. You were close, babbling nonsense that only encouraged Leo to increase his thrusts.

— Oh, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck me.

— That's what I'm doing, babydoll.

Even in the middle of the moment, he always found a way to be funny. But when you lifted your hips higher, your pussy tightening around him, he was about to see heaven. Your release started dripping down your thighs and his shaft. With that, he painted your insides with his cum, pressing your body tightly against his, as if he wanted you to be one.

The horn signaling it was almost time for dinner sounded, and with breathless lungs, Leo found a bit of air to sigh with a tight smile against your back. Before slipping out of you, he kissed you.

You stifled a small whimper at the emptiness, and your boyfriend smiled tenderly, hugging and turning you to face him again.

— You're so damn hot — he said, kissing you and slowly covering you back with your swimsuit while gently kissing your cheeks and nose. You giggled, and he led you to your bed to sit on his lap.

— We don't have much time but — he kissed you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, making it easier for him to hold your hips. — I adore you.

You smiled, and he kissed you again until the door burst open, making you jump.

It was Percy, his expression changing from a frown to shock and then anger.

— LEO!

— Bro, at least you came when I already had my shorts on.

A yell echoed through the entire camp, and everyone knew Percy Jackson had arrived.

— Want some honey on those pancakes? — Leo asked the son of Poseidon genuinely while holding the jar with a raised eyebrow.

— I don't want anything from you — Percy said sourly, with a twisted smile. Leo grinned, seeing what this was about.

— Maybe a nephew, then.

— YOU!

[aroaceleovaldez]

mildly entertaining pjo fandom curse (mostly in that you can make games out of it):

everybody draws Piper showing skin. half the time Shel as well. literally almost EVERYBODY. go look at Piper fanart. is she wearing a crop top? i bet she is. or if she's wearing a dress hers is gonna be one of the most revealing. bonus points if they gave her a belly button piercing. and it's almost always only Piper and/or Shel. i thought we had a whole discussion about sexualizing young indigenous girls back in like 2021 but i guess nobody processed that part cause pjo fandom acts like if they dont have Piper show her stomach or have her shirt ride up they'll die.

the curse is that you will never unsee this. have fun with that.

[loverangels]

HRSJIDJE IM BACK HII 🫰😋 I HAVE SOME MORE IDEAS since exams r finally done.

What about percy x cluess!reader that doesnt seem to get all the flirty action percy has been showing and thinks he's just friendly like that. Maybe throw in a hc about reader being in an aphrodite kid, and doesnt think that anyone could like them romantically cause they thinks its just due to them being aphrodite's child, and percy tries to show them that regardless of what god parent they have, he still likes us.

Can you tell my brain is fried?

-🌸

sooner

pairings: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite!reader

a/n: I'm in love with this request you never fail to serve with your requests nonnie!!! I wish you all the best for your exams and I hope this can be a little treat since I know how horrible exam season can be! Make sure to take care of yourself love!! 🩷🌸

The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues across Camp Half-Blood as you walked alongside Percy. He was smiling in that easy, boyish way he always did, his hands casually shoved in his pockets as he glanced at you.

“So,” Percy said, bumping your shoulder lightly. “What’s the latest from Aphrodite cabin? You guys always seem to have, like, ten soap operas running at once.”

You laughed. “You’re not wrong. Yesterday, Drew tried to use a love potion on one of the Apollo kids, but she mixed it wrong, and now he won’t stop declaring his undying love for a watermelon.”

Percy chuckled. “Classic. But what about you? Any love drama of your own? Got your eye on anyone special?”

You tilted your head, considering. “Me? No, no one. Why?”

Percy stumbled a little, but quickly covered it up with a shrug. “Oh, no reason. Just curious.”

He glanced at you, waiting for some kind of reaction, hoping for even the tiniest flicker of realization. But you just smiled at him, completely oblivious. Percy sighed internally. How could you not see it? The way he went out of his way to make you laugh, the way he made excuses to spend time with you, the way he felt like his heart might actually explode every time you smiled at him.

But to you, Percy was just a friend. And no matter how many hints he dropped, you didn’t seem to noticem

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Later that evening, Percy found himself standing outside the Aphrodite cabin. Again. He stared at the door for a moment, debating whether to turn around, but then he sighed and knocked.

When the door swung open, your older brother leaned against the frame, looking completely unimpressed.

“Seriously?” he said, crossing his arms. “You’ve been here so much, we’re starting to think you’re an honorary sibling.”

Percy flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh… I just… I need advice. Again.”

The brother groaned and stepped aside, yelling over his shoulder, “Hey, lovebirds! Seaweed Brain’s back!”

Your siblings erupted in laughter as Percy shuffled in, his face red as a tomato.

“You’re still trying to get through to her, huh?” one of your sisters teased, lounging on her bed. “This is, what, the fourth time this week?”

“Sixth,” your brother corrected, smirking. “At this rate, we’re gonna have to start charging you.”

Percy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what else to do! I flirt with her constantly, but she just smiles and changes the subject. I even asked her today if she liked anyone, and she said no!”

The group collectively groaned, and your brother flopped dramatically onto a couch.

“She is so oblivious,” one of your sisters muttered. “I love her, but gods, it’s painful to watch.”

“Have you tried being direct?” your brother asked, giving Percy a pointed look.

Percy frowned. “I’ve been trying! I’ve dropped hints, I’ve asked leading questions, I’ve been—”

“No, no, no,” your brother interrupted, waving his hand. “You don’t ‘hint’ at things with her. That’s like trying to teach a rock to swim. You have to be blunt. Like, hit-her-over-the-head-with-it blunt.”

“Tell her,” one of your sisters added. “Straight up. No room for her to misinterpret it.”

“She’s gonna think I’m crazy…” Percy mumbled.

“She already thinks you’re crazy,” your brother deadpanned. “Just own it. March up to her, look her in the eye, and say, ‘Hey, I like you. I’ve been flirting with you for weeks, and you haven’t noticed, so now I’m telling you.’”

The room went silent for a beat, everyone nodding in agreement. Percy groaned. “This is a terrible idea.”

“It’s your only shot, Jackson,” your brother said, patting him on the back. “Go get her.”

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The next day, Percy found you by the canoe lake, skipping stones across the water. He took a deep breath, his heart racing, and walked over.

“Hey,” he said, smiling nervously. “Got room for one more?”

You glanced up, your face lighting up when you saw him. “Of course. You’re always welcome, Percy.”

His heart skipped a beat. You had no idea what you did to him when you said things like that.

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, watching the ripples spread across the lake. Then Percy cleared his throat, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“So,” he began, his voice a little shaky. “There’s, uh… there’s something I need to tell you.”

You turned to him, your brow furrowing in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Percy said quickly. “It’s just… I’ve been trying to tell you something for a while now, but I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of it.”

You tilted your head, confused. “What do you mean?”

Percy took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage he had. “I like you. Like, like-like you. And before you say anything, no, it’s not just as a friend. I think you’re amazing, and funny, and brave, and honestly, you’re all I think about.”

You blinked at him, completely stunned. “Wait… what?”

“I like you,” Percy repeated, his face turning red. “As in, I’ve been flirting with you for weeks because I have a massive crush on you.”

You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words. “But… I thought you were just being nice!”

Percy groaned, running a hand down his face. “How could you possibly think that? I literally asked your siblings for advice because I didn’t know how to tell you!”

“You talked to my siblings?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes!” Percy exclaimed. “Half the Aphrodite cabin is sick of me because I’ve been driving them crazy trying to figure out how to get you to notice me.”

You blinked again, the pieces finally clicking into place. “Oh…”

Percy laughed weakly. “Yeah. Oh.”

There was a long silence as you stared at each other, Percy’s heart pounding in his chest. Finally, you smiled.

“Well,” you said softly, “you could’ve just told me sooner.”

Percy groaned. “You’re impossible.”

But then you leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, Percy’s face was bright red, but he was grinning like an idiot.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Totally worth it.”

[aphroditeinthesea]

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

⚠️ fem!masturbation

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

everything about him. gods. everything.

his hair. his biceps. his abs. his smile. his scars. his eyes. his glasses.

every time you saw him, you felt an ache. that only he could fill. physically and metaphorically.

that’s why you find yourself here so often. back in your room on the argo ii. hand between your thighs, getting soaked by yourself.

your head thrown back against the pillows. you were close now. your back arched as you imagined him doing this to you.

his cock hitting every spot, balls deep inside you. the way he would sweat, his muscles flexing while his hips thrusted into you.

you wanted him to leave bruises. mark his territory. he could do whatever he wanted at this current moment.

you just wanted him to walk through that door. see you, and take over.

“y/n!”

light from the hall crept into your room. you jumped up, pulling your fingers out of your shorts.

blonde hair. just annabeth.

“hey, hi, hey,” you spoke, heavy breathing.

she raised her eyebrows, “sorry, i should’ve knocked, uhm,”

“it’s okay, i wasn’t doing anything.”

“uh huh,” she awkwardly stood in the doorway, “do you have my scrunchie you borrowed?”

you nodded, “yeah, it’s uhm,” you used your unused hand to point to your dresser, “there.”

she nodded, “okay, thanks.” she quickly grabbed the schruchie.

“hey, y/n,” oh great party in your room! yay!

you looked over. blond hair. fuck.

“jason, hey,” ugh. his sweet face. you felt gross for what you had just been interrupted doing, “what’s up?”

he was completely oblivious, “one of my shirts tore and i was wondering if you could help me sew it?”

you nodded, “of course, yeah.”

he smiled, “thanks.”

you knelt over your bed to grab your little pink sewing kit, “can you bring the shirt?”

“yeah, here,” he proceeded to peel off the shirt on his skin.

your mouth slightly gaped, “oh.”

you were fucked.

[soulofapatrick]

Kiss Me Tired - Percy Jackson x Female Reader

Summary: you can't sleep so go to find your best friend - Percy

Words: 1.9k

warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

I find myself tossing and turning, the sheets tangling around my restless limbs, as elusive sleep evades me once again. The Apollo cabin is quiet, the soft hum of night almost suffocating in its stillness. Moonbeams trickle through the window, casting gentle patterns of the wooden floors. 

Grateful for being on the bottom bunk tonight, I slide from under the covers with practiced ease. The gentle thud as my feet meet the floor barely makes a sound, but each step feels amplified in the silence of the sleeping cabin. Slipping on a pair of shoes without lacing them up, I make my way to the door, my heart pounding louder than the muted thuds of my footsteps. The door creaks slightly as I ease it open, wincing at the noise before exhaling a relieved breath as it swings shut behind me. 

Staying close to the comforting cover of shadows, I weave my way through the lingering clusters of campers, their hushed conversations mixing with the rustling of leaves in the night breeze. The children of Nemesis and Nyx, silhouetted against the faint glow of the campfire, seem engrossed in their own whispered discussions, oblivious to my presence as I navigate the edges of their gathering.

I skirt the edges of the Poseidon Cabin, a refuge I’ve often visited, and slip inside, grateful for the cover of darkness. The familiar scent of saltwater and adventure lingers in the air. The cabin is eerily quiet, echoing with the absence of Percy—the solitary presence that usually defines it. 

My steps echo softly against the wooden floor as I venture further in. The moonlight filters through the windows, causing elongated shadows that dance across the cabin’s interior. Percy’s empty bed confirms his absence, leaving the cabin strangely deserted. 

Curiosity propels me deeper into the cabin, my gaze landing on the backdoor open, leading to the pontoons. The moon’s silvery trail illuminates the pathway to the water’s edge, inviting and ethereal. The realisation settles in—Percy, the sole child of Poseidon, often seeks solace by the lake, where the water sings the tales of his father’s realm. 

The sight before me steal a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. Percy sits there, silhouetted against the shimmering reflection of the moon on the water, a portrait of quiet strength and contemplation. His unruly hair catches glimmers of moonlight, creating an otherworldly halo around him. 

As I draw nearer, the tranquility that envelopes him seems almost tangible. The lake mirrors the night sky, stars dancing on its surface, and Percy, the living embodiment of that serene beauty, captures my attention entirely. 

He turns at the faint rustle of my approach, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his pretty lips. His sea-green eyes, illuminated by the moon’s gentle glow, hold a depth that echoes the mysteries of the ocean. It’s mesmerising, the way he seems both a part of the night and a beacon within it. 

Percy’s messy black hair catches the moonlight in a way that makes it seem like constellations have woven themselves into the strands, each unruly wave a testament to the untamed spirit he embodies. His lightly tanned skin, kissed by the sun’s rays and caressed by the gentle breeze, holds a warmth that feels inviting even in the cool night air. 

As I settle next to him, a comfortable ease settles between us. Percy shifts slightly, adjusting his position, and I follow suit, instinctively resting my head on his shoulder. It feels oddly natural, as if this silent language of unspoken understanding has been written int he stars all along. The coolness of the night dissipates against the warmth of his presence. His shoulder, solid and reassuring beneath my head, carries the weigh of both the wards burdens and its beauty. 

His sea-green eyes, s deep and enigmatic, gaze out into the horizon, the mysteries of the universe reflecting in their depths. The seven expression on his face speaks volumes, as if he’s a silent guardian, watching over the secrets of the night.  The gentle breeze whispers secrets to the night, and I feels Percy’s arm, strong and comforting, wrap around my waist, pulling me a fraction closer to him. It’s a gesture of silent understanding, an unspoken invitation to share the weight of ur silent night-time musings. 

“Why can’t you sleep, Mouse?” Percy’s voice, soft and inquisitive, breaks the tranquil silence with my stupid nickname he made for me. His concern is palpable, yet I hesitate to divulge the true reason behind my sexlessness, my heart pounding against the confession I’m afraid to voice. 

I shift slightly, trying to evade the truth, the words catching in my throat as I struggle to articulate the turmoil within, “Just… thoughts, I guess. You know how it is.” 

But it’s a hollow response, a mere veil covering the truth that simmers beneath the surface. The mere thought of Percy and Annabeth together as a couple, a union so celebrated and cherished among demigods, twists a knot in my stomach, a painful reminder of my unspoken feelings for him. 

The fear of vulnerability and the ache of unrequited affection hold me captive in a silence that feels suffocating. I can’t bring myself to admit the ache his closeness evokes, the ache that surges every time I see them together, facing the world as a pair that everyone wants to see. The perfect couple. 

A grumble of protest escapes my lips, as I know he sees through my lie as he stays silent, a frustrated sound that I can’t seem to contain. I turn my face, burying it in the comforting crook of his neck, hoping to hide the turmoil that threatens to spill over. His chest rumbles with a soft laughter, a sound that’s both comforting and teasing, pulling me out of my momentary retreat. 

Before I realise it, his finger hooks gently under my chin, lifting my face to meet to gaze. The concern etched into his expression melts away any remaining resistance, coaxing me to open up even as my heart clenches with the vulnerability of it all. 

“Hey,” He murmurs softly, his sea-green eyes searching mine, an unspoken invitation tp share whatever weighs on my mind. 

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to dissipate. The urge to confess tugs at my heartstrings, a silent plea to unburden the ache that gnaws at me. But the words romain elusive, trapped behind a barrier of fear and insecurity. 

My heart hammers against my chest as his thumb traces a gentle path across my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that seeps into the cracks of my guarded emotions. I meet his gaze, sea-green eyes holding mine in a silent conversation that speaks volumes. 

I feel myself drawn to him, my eyes inadvertently tracing the curve of his lips. The soft moonlight casts an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the contours of his face in a way that feels almost surreal. 

As my gaze lingers on his lips, a surge of emotions—longing, fear, and a yearning for something more—swirl within me. Self-control wavers as my heart takes over, propelled by an undeniable urge to bridge the gap between us. 

Without warning, without calculation, I lean forward, closing the space between us. My lips meet his in a moment that feels both suspended in time and yet over too soon. It’s a soft, tentative touch, a leap of faith and vulnerability woven into the tender connection.

 For a heartbeat, the world stills around us, the air crackling with the unspoken truth of our shared emotions. The warmth of his lips against mine like a revelation, a stolen moment that lingers as a testament to the unspoken desires I’ve kept hidden. But, just as quickly as it happens, the weight of the moment hits me, the reality crashing down like a tidal wave. I pull away, breathless and wide-eyed, my heart thundering in my chest, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. 

“Perce… Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“ 

Before I can finish my stammered apology, the words tumbling out in a jumble of regret and confusion, Percy’s gentle touch silences my anxious ramblings. He leans in, cutting off my faltering speech with a soft yet determined press of his lips against mine. It’s a kiss that carries a subtle urgency, a reassurance woven into the tender connection that leaves me breathless and wide-eyed. 

His lips, warm and inviting, mould against mine in a way that feels both familiar and utterly new. There’s a tenderness to his touch, a silent promise of understanding and acceptance that sends a shiver down my spine. His kiss tastes like the promise of untold stories, of shared secrets whispered in the stillness of the night. 

My heart leaps in my chest, responding to his gentle yet confident touch. I reciprocate, tentatively at first, before letting myself be swept away by the overwhelming rush of emotions. My hands, initially hovering uncertainly in the space between us, find their place, one resting against his chest and the other timidly finds its way to his cheek, relishing the warmth and softness of his skin. 

His hands, strong yet tender, find their place at the small of my back, pulling me closer in an embrace that feels both reassuring and exhilarating. The closeness of our bodies, the shared warmth between us, creates a cocoon of intimacy that blurs the boundaries of friendship and something more. 

The moment lingers, suspended in a haze of shared emotions, before Percy breaks the kiss, his breath mingling with mine as he gently pulls me onto his lap. My knees rest on either side of his hips, a sudden rush of adrenaline mingling with the warmth of our closeness. Then, he guides me down, our bodies molding together in a dance of longing and unspoken desires. His hands, firm yet gentle, cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he leans in for another kiss.

This time, there's a hunger in his touch, a raw passion that ignites between us. Our lips meet again in a union fuelled by the unspoken confessions of our hearts. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a dance of lips and tongues that express the emotions we've kept buried for so long. His fervour is matched by mine as I respond eagerly, the longing I've harboured finally finding an outlet in this shared intimacy. The taste of his kiss is electrifying, a rush of emotions that consumes every inch of my being.

My hands find their place on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, drawing him closer in a silent plea for more. Our bodies meld together, the heat of our closeness building an unspoken intensity that blurs the lines between friendship and an uncharted territory of passion.

In the soft moonlight, our embrace becomes a symphony of desire and longing, each movement a testament to the unspoken connection we've discovered. And as we lose ourselves in this intoxicating moment, the boundaries of what we were and what we might become blur in the heat of our shared passion.

“Come on sweetheart,” Percy finally pulls away, “You can sleep here tonight.” 

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 braiding : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

percy catches y/n struggling to braid her own hair, so he learns how to do it for her.

author: can't stop thinking abt percy's love language being acts of service :,)

Percy stops at the cabin door. It's half open and a bunch of kids push past him to go out for breakfast. He waits for her to come out behind her siblings, but when she doesn’t, he finally takes a peek inside.

She's sitting on her bed, too focused on her hair to notice Percy's presence, a deep frown on her face as her fingers move swiftly through her hair, trying to braid it— or so Percy guesses. He has seen her doing it effortlessly with her sisters, but she seems to be struggling with doing it by herself.

Percy stands in the doorway as she lets out a frustrated huff and her hands fall defeatedly on her lap, it takes a couple of seconds more for her to look up and find her boyfriend there. "Percy!" she gasps, caught off guard. "For how long have you been standing there?"

"Hey, pretty." he smiles at her, his eyes softening as he rested his shoulder against the doorframe. "Not too long, sorry to interrupt your braiding session, but it's breakfast time."

"I don't want to go, my hair's a mess." she mumbles, the frustration still clear in her tone. "I don't know why it's so easy to braid other people's hair but everytime I try it on myself, I only end up with a rat's nest."

Percy finds the situation just a tiny bit amusing, but seeing the discomfort on his girlfriend's face, he immediatly pushes himself off the doorframe and goes to sit beside her.

"But your hair looks so beautiful, love." He reassures her, taking the hair brush from her hand and brushing her hair gently, getting rid of the few knots that formed in her hair because of her attempt at a braid. "You're the most beautiful girl on camp, braid or no braid."

She huffs. "You're just saying that because you're my boyfriend, you're biased." But Percy can see the moment the frustration starts to melt away, her body relaxing while she allows him to continue brushing her hair.

Percy doesn’t know much about how to do this, and he knows he couldn't pull off doing a braid even if he wanted to, just to please her. So instead, he just goes with the easy way and pulls her hair into a ponytail.

"There you go, my pretty girl." He praises once he has managed to secure her hair with the hair tie he had on his wrist, he always carries one with him just in case she needs it.

He knows she wanted a braid, but she still looks pleased enough to agree to go have breakfast, all her irritation long forgotten. Still, Percy makes a mental note to remind himself that he has to learn to do at least a basic braid.

After breakfast, Percy has plenty of time to check that off his to-do list, since y/n has to go help in the stables, he doesn’t need to make up an excuse to spend his day looking around camp for someone to teach him how to braid hair. That lands him on the aphrodite cabin, surrounded by the younger girls that happily explain the basics to him.

"Well it's definitely... a braid!" one of the girls encourages him when he tries for the first time. It's a mess but he appreciates the encouraging, so he keeps going.

He doesn’t learn that day, not even the next one. He spends hours of his time going through the basics, taking every single advince from the aphrodite girls even if it lands him a lot of teasing from Piper, using rope to mimic hair and trying to go through the motions. Again. And again.

It takes him some time, but at least he feels somewhat ready the next time he sees her struggling. This time, they're in his cabin, they've spent the whole afternoon cuddling and talking about their day. And now she's trying to braid her hair for dinner, once agsin getting frustrated.

Percy takes a deep breath before he suggests, "Maybe I can try?"

She stops her braiding attemp immediatly, turning around to look at him surprised. But then she decides, she's not going anywhere with this, so what's the damage in letting him try? "Okay, you can do it"

Handing him the brush, she turns around to allow him access to her hair. Admitedly, she doesn’t think he'll know how to do a braid, but she still smiles softly and allows herself to relax when Percy starts to brush her hair gently, he's always so careful with this step, so nurturing that it melts her heart everytime.

When he's made sure her hair is free of knots, his hands shake slightly when he reaches to section her hair. But he doesn’t want to mess this up, so after a deep breath, he calms himself down and goes over the advice he safely stored in his mind as his fingers move carefully through her hair.

After some minutes— because he's yet to be as fast as the aphrodite girls, the braid is finally secured with a hair tie in the end. It's not a perfect braid, if Percy has to say so himself, but he's proud of it nonetheless.

He's even prouder when she stands up to see herself on the mirror and a smile grazes her lips. That's all Percy wanted. And he would take about a hundred braiding practices if that meant he got to see her happy.

"How did you learn how to do this?" she asks, gasping softly and looking at it as if it's the prettiest braid ever even though it's the most basic one, and definitely wonky looking.

"I've been practicing" he shrugs, like it's nothing at all. "So, dinner?"

After that, it just becomes an every day activity. She comes into her cabin, or him into hers and they spend hours talking about anything while Percy braids her hair again and again.

When he has mastered the basic braid, he moves on to trying a french braid and when he finally gets the gist of that one, he tries a fishtail brain and when he gets it, he tells y/n it's his favorite one he has done so far— It has nothing to do with the name.

One afternoon, she's sitting cross legged on her bed "Some girls asked about my braid yesterday." She tells him as he's halfway through trying a crown braid. "I might start charging people for your services."

Percy chuckles, but he shakes his head. "You can tell them this is an exclusive service for my pretty girl."

She beams at his words, her heart racing on her chest. "Why did you learn how to braid, anyways?"

"Because" He starts, undoing the braid to start again, this one has proven to be difficult. "You wanted braided hair."

That's simple. She had wanted it, so Percy naturally went through the effort of learning because of her. And he would do it again anytime.

One morning, she's sitting on the edge of Percy's bed, bouncing her knee anxiously. Today's training is supposed to be intense. Chiron paired her with Clarisse for sparring, and even though she doesn't consider herself bad at combat— Well, she's nowhere near Clarisse's level. One bad move, and she could get sliced in two.

As pulls on his camp shirt, he catches her fidgeting. he watches her for a moment before quietly settling behind her on the bed.

"Percy what are you—" She stops herself when he reaches for her brush, softly taking it away from her hands.

"You're nervous" He points out while he starts brushing, working through any knots. "You're gonna drive yourself crazy before you pick any sword, love."

She knows he's right, but that doesn't stop her of being dramatic. "I'll die, Perce."

Percy chuckles, sectioning her hair. "You're not going to die." His fingers start the now familiar pattern of weaving strands together. "You're great, you just need to trust yourself."

She sighs, but she say anything else because she's already starting to relax as his hands work through her hair. He's gotten really good at this, and she finds it oddly comforting as she closes her eyes, allowing his presence to ground her.

After a few seconds, he secures the braid with a hair tie on his wrist and leans to press a kiss to her temple. "There. Good luck braid."

She giggles, turning to him with amusement shining on her eyes. At least, Percy thinks, she doesn’t look too nervous anymore. "Good luck braid?"

"Yes" He shrugs, grinning at her. "Now you have no choice but to win."

"That's surely not how good luck works." She points out, rolling her eyes, but she can't help the smile that grazes her lips.

"It is now." he replies, standing up and holding out his hand to help her up. "Come on, let's get you to the arena."

As they walk, she touches her braid lightly, feeling steadier than before. Maybe it's crazy, but she swears she feels a little more confident when she finally steps onto the training field.

After that, it just becomes their thing. Before any big training, when she's feeling nervous and fidgety, she finds Percy. She plops down without a word, handing him a brush and he just knows what to do.

"Percy, y/n are you guys—" Annabeth stops at the doorway, smirking at the sight in front of her. "What are you guys doing?"

Percy's halfway through a neat french braid when he looks up and grins. "Good luck braid. Very important business."

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but she leaves them alone after reminding them training starts in ten minutes. This time, y/n isn't nervous, because the braid on her head is just a reminder that Percy believes in her enough to give her the confidence to believe in herself, too.

[slu7formen]

So I got this from a book but a truth and dare game with Luke where she has to lick whip cream of him. You can do whatever you want with this prompt but like a smut could be nice.

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

this single request itself made me wanna try it, love you <3

warnings: teasing, kissing, s3xual tension, food play, drinking, oral (f receiving), mutual m4sturbation, unprotected s3x, possessive!luke at times, biting, f1ngering, chocking, also this is SO LONG, I’M SORRY

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes.

₊˚⊹♡

The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the faces gathered around the hidden clearing. You all had managed to sneak away from the watchful eyes of Chiron and Mr. D for a game night in the woods. The air buzzed with the energy of a rebellion and contagious laughter – a night of games for the older campers, fueled by salty and sweet snacks and stolen alcohol —a sweet thank you to the Hermes’ cabin—. Laughter and playful groans punctuated the evening as truth or dare, with a twist, played out. Two decks sat in the center of the circle – red for dares, blue for truth.

Silena patiently waited as Clarisse read a red card out loud. "Whoever you find most handsome, kiss them" the card declared, "or take a shot." A playful smile spread across Silena´s lips, her gaze lingering for a beat too long on Charles Beckendorf. A blush crept up her neck as the others hooted and hollered.

"Come on, Silena" Connor Stoll, Hermes' resident prankster, prodded her with a playful jab. "Don't be shy, show us who the lucky guy is!"

With a playful toss of her hair, she leaned across the circle, her eyes meeting Beckendorf's for a fleeting moment before landing a quick, chaste kiss on his lips. Beckendorf, caught off guard, sputtered and stammered, his face mirroring Silena's blush. The clearing erupted in cheers and teasing whistles.

The teasing went back and forth, fueling the already lively atmosphere. Next, it was Beckendorf's turn. He scanned the circle, eyes falling on a tall and skinny guy sipping on the last drops of his beer.

“Travis” he called. “Truth or dare?”

Travis, ever the clown, leaned back on his elbows, a confident smirk plastered on his face. "Dare" he replied, popping the r out.

Beckendorf announced the dare after picking up a card: "Take off the socks from the person on your right with your teeth, or take two shots." A collective groan rose from the circle. Lee Fletcher happened to be Travis' unfortunate neighbor.

"Come on, Trav" Luke chimed in, a playful look in his eyes. "Those feet are all fresh and sweaty for ya'." The rest of the group roared with laughter, picturing the image of Travis attempting the sock removal with his teeth.

Travis, with a grimace that contorted his face, finally managed to grab Lee's sock with his teeth and yank it free. He held the sweaty trophy aloft, earning another round of cheers and jeers.

Meanwhile, Luke couldn't help but steal glances at you, sitting next to him. The firelight cast your features in a warm glow, highlighting the soft curve of your lips and the way your hair cascaded down your shoulders like a waterfall. The scent of your perfume, a mix of strawberries and something else he couldn't quite place, filled his senses, making his heart pound a little faster. He found himself captivated by your laugh, the way your lips curved into a smile as you spoke, or the way your brow furrowed in concentration when you contemplated a dare. Sitting next to you felt like being next to a goddess, both exhilarating and intimidating, just like the rest of your sisters; girls from cabin ten.

Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, Travis scanned the circle, his eyes stopping on you. You met his eyes, a playful sparkle in your own, as if daring him to choose you.

“yn, truth or dare?”

You took a swig of your beer, the cold liquid a welcome contrast to the warmth blooming in your cheeks under his scrutiny. "Dare" you replied, your voice laced with a hint of flirtatious defiance.

A surprised whistle escaped his lips. Clearly, he hadn't expected you to choose the more daring option, you´ve been picking truth all night. He reached for a card from the red deck, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. The silence grew thick as he scanned the card.

A barely audible chuckle escaped his lips as he read the card. "Alright, pretty girl" he began, drawing out the words for dramatic effect, " 'Lick whipped cream out of the person on your left's neck, or take a shot.'"

A collective gasp rippled through the group, followed by teasing comments towards Luke. "Castellan's lucky tonight!" Connor hollered, patting his back. "Looks like you owe cabin ten a thank you, man."

Luke felt his cheeks burning like rubies. He tried to appear confident, as he always was, a casual slouch to his posture, but the rapid thump of his heart betrayed his cool facade.

You just stared at him for a moment, a nervous yet malicious smirk on your lips. You enjoyed the sight of him suddenly all red and flustered, a stark contrast to his usual cool demeanor. He looked as cute as ever. "Well?" Katie asked, shrugging your shoulder playfully. "Whip cream or a shot?"

And how could you resist the dare? A chance for your lips to brush against the warm skin of Luke's neck in a gesture that was more intimate than any game dared to be? The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a delicious mix of excitement and nervousness. Licking the sweet whipped cream off him, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your lips... it was too tempting to pass up, and the possibilities were simply intoxicating.

Ignoring the teasing catcalls and whispers, you turned to Katie with a sly smile. "Where's the whipped cream?" you asked, knowing full well that Silena had brought a large bag of candy, a can of whipped cream nestled amongst the chocolate bars and sour gummies.

Your question erupted into another wave of cheers and whistles. Luke, meanwhile, felt like his insides were about to explode. He felt like a churning cauldron of emotions – nervousness, excitement, a burning desire dancing in his stomach.

Silena tossed the can to you. You caught it in the air, the coldness of the metal a stark contrast to the heat burning in your cheeks. You met Luke's gaze once more.

"Looks like you're about to get a little messy" you declared, getting on your knees now for a better access. With a sweet but weirdly evil smirk, you shook the can, the hiss of the pressurized cream a prelude to the sweet mess you were about to create.

As Luke held your gaze, a slow smile spread across his face. He knew this was a chance, one he couldn't afford to miss. "Alright" he sighed, chest heaving up and down in one hard and heavy movement, his voice rough with suppressed nervousness but laced with an undercoat of confidence. He tilted his head slightly to the left, offering you a better angle, his final invitation. "Do your thing."

The weight of his words, the vulnerability in his gesture, sent a jolt through you. Luke's neck, bathed in the warm glow of the fire, looked impossibly inviting, the smooth skin a stark contrast to the dark fabric of his shirt.

Taking a slight breath, you placed a few dollops of whipped cream on the side of his neck. The coldness sent a jolt through him, making him flinch and hiss lowly. A wave of whispers rippled through the group, a mixture of nervous anticipation and excited curiosity.

Luke caught a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye. You tossed your hair to the side, the movement exposing completely one of your shoulders. In that moment, under the watchful gaze of the fire and their friends, he felt himself going faintly insane with a mixture of desire and nervousness.

You leaned closer, the sweet scent of your perfume filling his senses. As you both closed your eyes at the same time, the air crackled with electricity. Your tongue, soft and warm, darted out with boldness. Pulling down on the collar of his shirt to avoid a mess, your other hand flew to the back of his neck, holding him gently in place.

The gentle rasp of your tongue against his skin sent shivers down his spine. It was a slow, deliberate movement, almost reverent, seductive, as you savored the sweetness of the whipped cream and the warmth of his skin beneath it.

Your actions were hot enough for his cock to start hardening against his cargo pants, painfully. But he has to thank the gods for luckily sitting in a position in which he was covering it.

He pressed his lips together, and apparently, that made his friends laugh. He could hear the soft gasps of your breath as you worked your way around the whipped cream blob, the sound echoing in his ears like a siren's song.

Luke felt like a live wire, every nerve ending tingling with awareness. He couldn't believe what was happening. The gentle touch of your lips made him feel as if a hundred ants walked down his spine, his heart thundering in his chest. He was trying so hard to hold back a moan.

He tried to imagine something else, literally anything, but whenever he tried, the only thing he could picture was you with him in his room, pouring whipped cream all over his neck and just licking, like a cat, as he tilted his head back and you bit down on his pulse, you whispered in his ear, you moaned loudly, you let him touch you.

He was a dead man.

Finally, with a satisfied sigh, you pulled away.

"There" you said, your voice barely a whisper. "All clean"

Luke opened his eyes, his gaze lingering on your lips, cherry lip-gloss long gone, as you finished licking off the last bit of your sweet treat. You met his gaze. Neither of you spoke.

A loud cough from Connor broke the spell. "Well, that was..." he began, searching for the right words, "intense."

“Yeah” Chris joined in, suddenly grabbing Clarisse’s hand and turning to her. “Can we do it?”

The moment was broken, the playful environment resuming its place. A wave of laughter washed over the group when the night took an unexpected turn. Soon, the whipped cream became a must along your friends.

Travis´ eyes landed on a weak Lee. The following minutes were filled with chaos and laughter as Travis chased Lee around the nearby trees, whipped cream can in hand, finally managing to catch him and plant a sloppy glob of cream on his neck. Lee's retaliatory attempt at tickling Travis only resulted in both of them collapsing in a heap of loud laughs.

The game continued, couples forming and reforming with each dare. Beckendorf and Connor, fueled by a rivalry, ended up smearing whipped cream on each other's faces, resulting in a food fight of sorts. Silena and Katie shared a non-stop giggly mess as they licked cream off each other's cheeks.

Even Clarisse, despite her initial resistance, found herself cornered by Chris.

By the time everyone´s face was sticky, exhaustion had settled in. As the fire crackled down to embers, casting long shadows across the clearing, everyone decided it was time to head back to their cabins.

The walk back was filled with drunken stumbling and whispered jokes. Silena and Clarisse, whose tolerance for alcohol was notoriously low, were stumbling back to their cabins, supported by their patient friends.

You walked behind them, a smile playing on your lips as you watched the scene unfold, bag of leftovers snacks swinging on your wrist.

Behind you, Luke admired your figure bathed in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees. Your hips, swaying with each step you took, were basically asking him to be grabbed, to be pulled. So did your hair, bouncing and shining on its on and he wondered what it would feel like to have it wrapped around his hand. His mind couldn't help but flash back to the way your tongue had felt, flat and warm, against his skin. It was a sensation that gave him goosebumps even now, a memory that made his brain feel like melted butter.

He also found no way of getting rid of his boner. His pants were a little baggy, and his friends were drunk, but still, he was just walking around camp, with a boner, and the girl that gave it to him was walking just five feet ahead.

His train of thought was abruptly derailed by a booming voice. "Alright, guys" Beckendorf announced, his voice thick with concern, "I think I'm going to take Silena back to my cabin" he turned his head behind him. “She seems a little too excited, actually” he says, as you all watch Silena´s figure almost falling to the ground as she reaches the Hephaestus cabin.

The others murmured agreement, offering sleepy goodbyes and pats on the back. You joined the chorus, your voice a gentle murmur.

Unlike many of the other campers, whose siblings populated Camp Half-Blood year-round, you were one of the few who stayed all year, along with Silena some months. With the winter season in full swing, your cabin stood empty, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional curious critter.

"You alright?" you heard beside you.

Luke, walking next to you now, seemed to pick up on your quiet contemplation. He cast you a sidelong glance, his face unreadable in the dim light.

You pulled a small smile from the corner of your lips. "Yeah, just-, realizing I have the whole cabin to myself tonight."

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

"Well, then" he began, his voice a low rumble, "Want me to walk you there so you don´t go alone?"

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as Luke's offer hung in the air.

"My cabin's not too far away, Luke" you teased, pointing towards a cluster of trees in the distance. A flash of pink peeked through the branches – the lace curtains that adorned the windows. "See? I can practically see it from here. You just really wanna spend more time with me, don't you?"

A faint blush crept up Luke's neck. He wasn't used to being so transparent, especially not around you. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"Then I guess" he stammered, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. "that my company is not wanted?"

You couldn't help but laugh, a melodic sound that echoed through the stillness of the night and ringed inside Luke´s ears. Deep down, you knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. The dare had awakened something inside you, a flicker of something warm and exciting burning in your belly. Looking at Luke now, bathed in the cool moonlight, you saw him differently. The way his hair tousled in the gentle breeze, the way his dark eyes held a depth you hadn't noticed before – it all made your stomach twist and tighten.

You placed both hands on the back pockets of your jeans. “When did I say that?” you ask.

A slow smile spread across Luke's face, mirroring your own. He couldn't deny the truth in your words. This playful back and forth shattered a barrier, revealing a connection neither of you had anticipated. His gaze drifted down to your lips for a second.

You noticed. Just as you noticed his hardened dick hidden inside his pants.

As you continued walking, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. The thought of him, his touch, his nearness, sent a hot wave through your stomach. It wasn't just about his good looks, though you couldn't deny his attractiveness. It was the unexpected intimacy, which was in fact, not so intimate due to your friends’ stares but, it left you with an empty feeling in your chest. It left you wanting more. More about Luke.

And then, it all just made sense.

As you reached the front door of your cabin, you turned around on your feet towards Luke. His eyes were wide and shiny in anticipation, waiting for you to speak. "So," you began, your voice dripping with feigned innocence, "since my company is apparently so delightful, how about you come inside for a bit?"

Luke blinked, surprised by your sudden offer. "Inside?" he echoed.

"You've never even been inside my cabin, have you? Don't you at least a little bit curious about what it looks like?"

You knew your question was a blatant and dirty lie. Luke likely knew the layout of every cabin at Camp Half-Blood, even though it is true that he only took small look from your cabin when the door was open, never fully stepping inside. But it was a way to gauge his interest. You knew how to play.

Luke shifted on his feet, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He wasn't sure if you were serious or just messing with him, but the invitation, whether genuine or not, was tempting. The thought of spending a little more time with you, alone, in the privacy of your cabin, made him think twice.

"Well," he began, his voice rough with well hidden desire, "if you want me to”

The sweet, cloying scent of perfume hit him first, a heady mix of flowers and vanilla that instantly relaxed his nerves. The walls were painted a soft, rosy pink, trimmed with crisp white molding. Pastel blue and green curtains adorned the windows, their gentle hues echoing in the twin beds adorned with pale blue sheets, a stark contrast to the brown bunks of his Hermes cabin.

Instead of the communal sleeping arrangements he was accustomed to, each camper here enjoyed the luxury of their own space. Twin beds stood side-by-side, separated by a blue dresser that boasted a large mirror and neatly organized drawers overflowing with what he could only assume were makeup and beauty products. In the corner, a chest with your name painted in a cheerful font held your personal belongings, and the space above your bed showcased an assortment of pin-ups – Hollywood starts and sultry singers plastered across the wall alongside a few candid photos of your friends, their faces beaming with laughter.

As Luke took in the scene, you walked further into the cabin, the plastic bag of leftover snacks crinkling in your hand. You tossed it onto the bed, rummaging through your chest for a change of clothes.

Suddenly, a small, gushing sound startled you. You looked up to find Luke standing directly in front of your bed, eyes sparkling like a little kid. In his hand, he held the can of leftover whipped cream, a playful white dollop clinging to his finger.

"Really?" you asked, a surprised laugh escaping your lips as you watched him contemplate licking it off. The audacity of the move, the playfulness in his eyes, made your insides twist.

"Don't judge me" he said. "I didn't get to lick it off someone's neck like everyone else did"

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. His words were a playful accusation, but the way he looked at you, the way his gaze lingered on your lips for a beat too long again, it was more than just whipped cream he craved.

You stood up slowly, a smile playing on your lips. Walking towards him, you stopped just out of reach. "Because you didn't want to" you teased, your voice laced with a hint of playing.

Luke met your gaze, his smile fading into a more serious expression. "Honestly, no, I didn't" he admitted, looking down at you from his taller height. "In front of everyone, I mean."

You tilted your head, a knowing smile gracing your features. "Why not?" you pressed, your voice a gentle murmur.

"I was thinking," he began, you immediately catch up on his nervousness, "that maybe... maybe I could do it privately."

A slow smile spread across your face again. “Privately, huh?" you echoed, your voice a teasing murmur. “Who with?"

He scoffed. “Isn´t is obvious?”

A shiver danced down your spine at his words. You couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through you, the delicious anticipation that hung heavy in the air.

With a playful and exaggerated sigh, you sat on your bed, sinking down onto the soft mattress. You look up at him, resting both of your hands behind you, making yourself as comfortable as possible.

He stared down at you, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a second to sit down next to you, the close proximity making your heart beat just a little louder, and the tip of your fingers sweat. The scent of your perfume, a sweet and intoxicating mix, filled his senses.

"Can I?" he asked.

You simply nodded. “Sure” you say. Every fiber of your being was waiting for him to follow in your footsteps, to recreate the intimate touch of your earlier dare.

Bingo.

You were convinced he was going for the same part of your body that you did on his, but instead, you felt the coolness of his fingertips against your skin as he gently pulled down the collar of your tank top, exposing the delicate curve of your collarbone and the top part of your breast.

A gasp escaped your lips as the coolness of the whipped cream hit your skin. Without missing a beat, Luke took tossed the can aside and, mimicking your earlier action, swiped his tongue across the exposed skin.

The cold sensation of the whipped cream mingled with the warmth of his touch, sending a shiver down your spine. You closed your eyes, savoring the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

His movements were slow and deliberate, his tongue tracing a lazy path across your skin. It was a stark contrast to the playful swipe you'd given him earlier, a wet touch that made both of you realize, very clearly, what this whole thing was about.

A soft moan escaped your lips, barely audible but undeniably present. Luke's breath hitched at the sound, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp nip on your collarbone. Luke had bitten down slightly, the sensation sending a confusing feeling towards your chest.

"Gods, Luke, that's-" you gasped, the word dying on your lips as a wave of pleasure washed over you when his teeth grazed over it again. You didn't even care to finish your sentence, too lost in the whirlwind of emotions his touch ignited.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through you. He licked off the last bit of the sweet treat from your skin, mimicking the way you'd cleaned him earlier.

"There" he said, his voice thick with mockery. "All clean."

You stared at him, your eyes glazed over with a desire that mirrored his own. You felt like a wild animal, unleashed and untamed. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your breath coming in ragged gasps from your parted lips. Your collarbone glistened with saliva, a testament to the intimacy you'd just shared.

You couldn't take it anymore.

You smashed your lips against his in a hungry kiss. It was a kiss unlike any you'd ever experienced, raw and desperate, fueled by the tension that had been building between you all night.

Luke, caught off guard for a moment, quickly responded, his kiss turning passionate and possessive. He slipped one hand behind your back, pressing you closer, the other finding its way into your hair, tilting your head for a deeper kiss.

You tangled your fingers in the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you as you fell onto the bed. He followed willingly, his body hovering over yours. That dare. That fucking dare. It had morphed into something far more intense, a stolen moment of passion that threatened to consume you both.

The taste of whipped cream was there, with the heat of his kiss, a bizarre yet strangely intoxicating combination. Your senses were on fire, your body yearning for more. You reached up, your fingers tracing the planes of his face, memorizing the feel of his strong jawline, the slight stubble that brushed against your skin.

As the kiss deepened, his hand found its way under your shirt, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. You gasped, a mixture of surprise and delight at his touch.

Your response was immediate when he started to graze his fingertips down your spine. You arched your back into his touch, a wordless plea for more. When he reached to your lower back, he grabbed your hip and pulled you impossibly closer to his body.

You felt his boner pocking on your inner thigh. You wondered how many hours he just spent with his dick painfully hardened, because you don’t really remember how many hours have passed since you chose dare as an option.

Your hands were quick to start pulling Luke’s shirt over his head. He only stopped kissing you to fully remove it and toss it to the ground, lips slamming against yours once again. He held a tight and possessive grab at your jaw, he didn’t want to let go of you.

The tip of his fingers trailed down your neck, your collarbone, a slow path down your body and over the fabric until his finger hooked your jeans, using a single had to get rid of the button, and quickly making it disappear along with his shirt.

“Why are you wearing this?” his voice had gone lower, his throat dry. He looked perfect like this, lips glistening with your saliva, hair messy and a finger hooked on the side of your light pink laced thong.

You couldn’t help but roam your eyes down his torso. The many years of training gifted him with a toned and well-worked body. His veins popped out with ease, starting on his biceps and getting more and more noticeable on his hands, manly, big and rough hands. You bit down on your lip for a moment, fingers tracing down his abdomen, he hissed at your cold fingers against his heated skin.

“It’s just my underwear, Luke” you explain. “Don’t like it?”

Instead of answering, the hand that was holding onto your tiny peace of underwear started trailing up your torso, flat against your stomach and all the way up to your sternum. He felt the soft fabric of your bra and gave you a lopsided smile. “I’m just hoping that this is matching”

And he got rid of your tank top. And it was, in fact, a matching set.

Luke couldn’t help but think that maybe you planned it all. Your cute lacy matching set, the empty cabin, the game. His mind started to race, circuits inside his brain working like a machine.

He hovered over your body again, trailing kisses around your neck. You moaned at the first one since he immediately found your sweet spot on the right side of it, goosebumps all the way from your skull to the bottom of your spine. “Was this all-, some plan of yours?” he asked, rushed voice and breaths coming out in gasps as he started to suck on your neck.

You giggled. “No, it wasn’t. But I was hoping for it-, oh” you moaned, pulling on his hair when he released his suck on your skin with a bop, but you felt his fingers trail up your inner thigh, knuckles brushing against your heated core.

“How?” he asked, slow and painfully teasing movements against your panties, occasionally focusing too much on your clit, making you gasp a little louder as you gripped on his bicep.

“I might have read all the cards earlier” you begin. “And I might have asked Silena to get me some whip cream with your cabin. Just in case I got to-, to do it with you. That’s why I wanted you to sit next to me”

Luke chuckled lowly, beads from his necklace tickling the skin on the base of your neck. “So it was a plan”

“No” you shrug off, feeling his lips against your neck again, sucking greedily. “I just, I wanted it. But I wasn’t sure it was gonna happen. I didn’t know this was gonna happen either”

Luke enjoyed so much the way you couldn’t even speak without letting out a moan or two in every sentence. He felt the fabric of your underwater getting wetter by the second. He listened to you and replied with little “hm’s” as if it was a casual conversation; a conversation in which you had him in your bed, almost naked, as he left bruises down your neck and you had his fingers teasing your entrance, hips rolling against his touch.

“You’re evil” he says. But it’s not you who’s touching him so boldly. It’s not you who leaves him wanting more, it’s not you who teases. But him.

So you let your hand make its way to his cargo pants, slipping past them and his boxers, directly going for his cock. A strangled moan escaped his lips, followed by his chest heaving up and down, surprised by your sudden movement. It felt hot against your hand, hot and heavy and you knew, that it was the hardest Luke has even been.

Your cupped hid balls just for a moment before you started to slowly ascent, finally reaching for his tip. Your fingers wrapped around his length and your thumb started torturous circles around his sensitive head. He sucked in his stomach constantly as you touched him, momentarily forgetting about your pleasure, but you enjoyed this a lot more.

“You really don’t want me to be evil, Luke” you say. “I could be evil and just stand up and make you walk to your cabin, or not letting you fuck me. But I’m not, ‘cause I really wanna feel you inside me, Luke. I really want you”

He let out a long and shaky breath full of relief when you started to bob your hand up and down, and that encouraged him to pull your thong aside, fingers teasing at your entrance. Your own breath came shaky as well when a single finger entered you.

Luke shook his head. “You’re so fucking wet” he pants. He didn’t even touched you properly and you were soaking his finger, lips glistening in your own arousal and leaving a wet patch on your pink underwear. “I need to taste you, doll. Please”

Your chest shakes when you laugh. You think it’s so cute that even though he has a finger buried inside you, your hand wrapped around his cock as you pump him slowly, he still says please, he still asks.

“Do whatever you want to me, Luke. I’m yours tonight”

That’s all the needed to hear. You let go of your hot grip as he steadies himself on your bed. But his hand reaches for something beside him, next to his calve. He brings the whip cream out again. “Can I try something?” he asks.

And how could you say no to his face?

You hold your breath when he leaves little balls of whip cream down your abdomen. You figure it’s empty now, because Luke throws it carelessly to the ground, a soft thud against the carpet on the side of your bed.

He holds your waist steady when you squirm slightly, as if you were about to run away from him. He glances at you for a second, his eyes, dark and dominant, basically telling you to not move a single inch. The plain sight of him, looking at you like that, while his big hands are gripped on your sides, only made you wetter.

He lowers his head to the first blob, tongue agonizingly slow as he only takes the very tip. You whine, you want him to touch you more, you want him to kiss you everywhere, to lick you everywhere, but he only makes it seems like a torture when he stops his movements.

“The more you complain, the more time I’ll take” he said. You nodded to his words, closing your eyes as you tried your best to patiently wait for him to start again.

Soon, you felt his tongue against your skin. This was so much better than your cleavage, so much hotter. You felt his teeth teasing you, attempting to bite but then pulling again, licking the last bit of whip cream before moving down to the next blob. By the time he reached under your belly button, you let out little gasps as his hands massage your inner thighs, dangerously close to your cunt.

He’s not directly touching you, but you feel the arousal getting ticker, and how close Luke’s breath was now to you, so hot and dry. You felt like dripping, even though you weren’t, but you were surely more than ready for whatever it is that he wanted to do to you.

It feels like heaven to him when he finally gets to taste you. He pushed his own head deeper in between your thighs as he groans, as if what he’s getting is not enough. Your high pitched moans fill his ears when his tongue starts slow, little kitten licks over your clit, too soft to even consider them as licks, but it has you squirming and grinding your hips down onto his face, pulling at his curls and asking him for more.

Oh, your sweet pleas. Your moans. Luke feels like a mad man as he start to gently rut his hips against your mattress. And to this point, he’s completely gone in you, too drunk to even care about how loud you were being, how hard he was eating you out, how if someone even tried to walk past your cabin, they’ll hear.

But maybe this is just what he wanted too. He didn’t know how long has it been since he realized he wanted to fuck your brains out, but he always cared about everything too. Where could it be, in a place where no one could see you, how he’d have to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning and letting the others hear you, how he had to pull his dick out slowly and put it back in at the same speed because he knew that if he did it too hard, he’ll become a mess. But he didn’t give a fuck about those things now. He finally had you as he wanted you, why in the world would he care about all those stupid things now?

In fact, he encouraged you. “Don’t hide those pretty noises from me, baby” he panted. “Let me hear you”

He was drooling. He couldn’t help it. You tasted so deliciously sweet, and not because of the whip cream leftovers on his mouth. Yes, it did change things a bit but, he knew how to distinguish what was artificial and what was you. And he loved you. He loved how you couldn’t stop coating his lips with your juices, how your arousal mixed with his saliva and dripped down your ass and onto the sheets.

He never enjoyed a meal so much.

“Luke, wait” you say, pulling at his curls but he only leaned into you more, nose bumping against your clit as his tongue remains inside you. “Luke, I’m gonna cum, wait”

“Then cum” he lifted his head as fast as possible when he heard your words. “Do it, baby.” He noticed the way your thighs were shaking, soothing them down with the palm of his hands.

You shook your head. “No, no” you whine. “I wanna do it while you fuck me, Luke. Please? It’ll feel so good, please”

Luke was starstruck. Oh, how the tables have turned. And how he turned you around too.

You still laid in bed, faced down onto the mattress. Luke had placed a pillow under your hips, ass in the air as he placed himself over you, one knee on each side of your legs. The shaking on your legs had stopped, but Luke noticed how excited you were, how even though you were so fucked up, how a white and sticky mess covered your inner thighs and how your whole body was glistening with sweat, you still managed to crack a smile to yourself as you bit your thumb.

You were driving him crazy. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to look at another’s girl’s face after you. You had him wrapped around your finger and you knew it, and you were just so mean about it, patiently waiting for him to fuck you as he pumps himself a few times, cock harder than it’ll ever be again and his tip leaking with precum.

He placed himself in your entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down your folds, and pushing himself into you at an agonizing pace. His tip was quickly covered in you, glistening with a mix of his saliva and your juices. He tried his best to not let any drop go to waste, getting absorbed by your sheets.

“You wanted my cock, didn’t you, doll?” he asks, pushing himself into you faster than you expected, a loud gasp scraping from your throat. “Then take it”

Your hands instantly reached for the sheets on your sides due to his fast pace, that took the air out of your lungs and started a racing heartbeat inside you, your knuckles quickly turning white as your nails digging into them, but Luke took them both, pushing your wrists together behind your back and holding them there. He used your hands to push himself deeper every time, rock harder, faster.

You were decent enough to muffle your moans in your sheets, but Luke could still hear them mixing with his owns; low grunts, loud gasps and hitched breaths. He had to close his eyes many times to prevent himself from cumming, because what a sight did he have under him.

Your cunt, shiny and coated with a white creamy consistent was sucking him in even when he pulled out. You were so greedy for him. Your walls tightened around him and wanted him to stay there, still, but the rocking of his hips and the gushing sounds of your pussy as he pounded into you was too good to let it pass.

He loved the sound. He loved how you were much wetter inside, making himself feel as if he was pounding into the tiniest and warmest hole ever, creaming his cock and not wanting for him to ever pull out and leave.

He suddenly lowered his body to yours, one hand letting go off his grip to pull your hair aside. “You say you’re mine tonight” he repeated your words in your ear. Your back arched unconsciously, ass slamming back into his cock. “Nah, baby. You’re mine forever”

He let go of your hands, only to place one hand on your throat, pulling you slightly back to him, his fingers squeezing on your sides. Your moans quickly became quite as you tried your best to breathe, but you loved it so much you didn’t even attempt to remove his hand from you.

“You’re all mine, yn” he panted. “Mine. This body,” he gripped on your waist with his free hand, “this pussy, those lips” a ghost of his thumb brushed your bottom lip, pulling down on it. “Mine. Mine. Mine”

He slammed his hips against you repeatedly. You didn’t know when exactly, but you came, and Luke felt it too when the consistent that ringed around the base of his cock became more and more noticeable. And it didn’t take him long to do the same.

He collapsed over your body as you finally gasped for air. You coughed slightly, tears forming on the corner of your eyes but quickly drying out.

“I’m sorry” he said, sliding off you and laying next to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-,” you laugh “Yeah, I’m-, wow”

That made him laugh. His arm wrapped around your waist as he placed a tender kiss on your cheek. His hands then started to run down your hair, all the way down to your lower back. You close your eyes at the feeling, only momentarily opening them to see something red in between your clothes, shining carelessly to the moonlight from your window.

You reach down to grab the empty can. “We should get another one of these” you say.

[hanaridulsetcheese]

the boy at the library ~ sam winchester

In a small town somewhere in America, you were at the local library completing your weekly shift. Sam Winchester was busy trying to do research on a case he and his brother were trying to crack but when he couldn't find a book he was looking for he decided to ask for help. 

"Excuse me," he said awkwardly, towering over you. "Do you know where I can find a book on demonology? It's for research purposes." he awkwardly smiles. 

You looked at the tall boy standing at the front of the desk, he seemed to be about your age, maybe a year or two older. Usually, you were not one to find attraction to people immediately but this boy was entirely captivating. 

His brown hair was slightly tousled and his shirt was untucked and messy. He had such a cute college boy look to him but his eyes told a different story, his eyes looked as if he had seen through the life of ten men at once. 

"Yes, it's in this aisle, what's the book name I'll help you look? " you walk out to him and lead him down the array of aisles. 

Sam was taken aback for a moment, his heart skipped a few beats as you agreed to help. He was used to having people be instantly intimidated by his tall built physique and cold demeanour and yet, you seemed different.

"Great," he said, clearing his throat and trying to remain cool. "The book is called 'Tales of Demonic Encounters.' It was written by a Reverend named Thomas Harries. Ever heard of it?"

"As a matter of fact I have. " you immediately lead him down the stream of books in the aisle and pick out the book he wanted. It was tucked amongst the mass of other religious and mythology series the library had in stock. 

The book you pull out was on a higher shelf but you were still able to reach it. It was a thick leather bound book with a collection of dust on it. Sam stands directly behind you and places a large hand atop of yours to help you remove the book. A slight blush flushes a little across your cheeks at the contact. 

Sam tries his best to stay calm as you retrieve the book. Your scent fills his nostrils, a mixture of sweet roses and something distinctly endearing. 

He feels your hand beneath his, smaller and more delicate than his own. His heart races as his fingers brush against your skin, the contact sending a spark through his entire body. He releases your hand before taking the book from you, your fingers lingering on each other for a few more seconds than necessary.

"Thanks," he says, looking at the book in his hands before looking back to you. "You're a lifesaver."

"Say, what's a boy like you doing studying about demons? " you lean against the shelves and cross your arms against your chest.

You eye Sam up and down and notice a slight pink tinge on his cheeks similar to that of yours. "You seem like a more law type of guy- " you raise an eyebrow waiting for his name. 

Sam feels a wave of nervousness wash over him as you ask the question. He knew he couldn't give you a straightforward answer, not without raising suspicion. He had to think fast. "Oh, you know," he says, forcing a convincing smile. "Just a hobby of mine. I'm interested in mythology and such. “

He glances down at your crossed arms, his eyes lingering on your figure for a moment before he looks back at your face. "The name's Sam Winchester. " he says, his voice a little quieter now.

"Sam, cute. " you stick a hand out at him, "Y/N. " you say, giving him a small smile. Sam takes your hand in his own, his grip firm but gentle.

"Y/N. " he repeats, savouring the way your name rolls off of his tongue. "That's a beautiful name. Suits you. " he lingers for a moment, not wanting to let go of your hand just yet.

"So, a demon hobby, huh? I dabble a little in mythology as well. " you shrugged, peeking at the stack of notes he had in his hand. 

Sam notices you glancing at the notes. They were mostly sketches of demonic symbols, and the occasional drawing of a grotesque demon head. He realises that he has to be careful, he couldn't let you see the truth. 

"Oh, yeah," he says, casually hiding the notes behind his back. "It's a fascinating subject, you know? Not for everyone, I suppose. But I find it intriguing."

"No, I understand. People think I'm crazy for wanting to major in mythology and dark arts. They look at me like I'm going to do some demonic thing to them. " you laugh slightly, gesturing to yourself, clad in a plain white shirt with a red flannel over it and some jeans. "Do I look demonic, Sam? " 

This was said as a joke but you noticed something changed in Sam's demeanour. He tried to remain calm, but your mention of demonic things puts him on edge. He knows that he has to play his cards right.

"Demonic? No, not at all," he responds, forcing a smirk. "Quite the opposite, actually. You look kind and friendly." He glances down at your outfit, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Besides, I think you'd make a terrible demon," he adds, his tone lighthearted.

"A terrible demon? Why'd you reckon? " you place your hands into your back pocket and look into his eyes. They were this pretty blue colour that you couldn't help but get sucked into. You notice him also observing you in the same way. 

"Well," Sam says, his gaze still fixed on yours. "Demons are cunning and manipulative. They prey on people's weaknesses and desires. But you seem different. More authentic, and honest." he takes a step closer to you, his tall frame towering over you. "It's refreshing, in a way. Almost, entangling... alluring."

"Oh. " you trail of feeling a little spark of excitement in your stomach as he steps closer. His smell wafts through your nose, very cinnamon centred with a hint of oak. He towered over you, your face barely peeking over his shoulder. 

Sam notices how much smaller you were than him. It was endearing, in a way. It made him feel protective, wanting to keep you safe. He leaned down closer to you, almost unconsciously. The air between you grew heavy with tension.

"Honesty is important," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think demons can be a tad dishonest every now and then."

"You seem to speak from personal experience? " you tilt your head, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

Sam freezes, realising that he said too much. He mentally scolds himself, cursing his slip-up. He steps back, creating a small distance between you. He tries to keep his face neutral as he laughs it off.

"No, not really," he said quickly, forcing a smile. "I just have a lot of experience talking to people, that's all." He glances down at the book he borrowed, then back up at you.

"Oh I understand Sam. " you peek out of the aisle to make sure no one saw you two.

"Sit. " you take a seat on the floor and gesture to Sam to sit beside you. He complies, the space just barely enough for his long legs. Sam feels a mixture of nerves and curiosity as he sits down next to you, his knee barely brushing against your leg, sending a small shiver down his spine.

Taking the book from his hands and laying it between you so you both could see, "What are you looking for in here? "

He glances down at the book and ponders your question. He couldn't tell you the truth, not about demons anyway. He had to come up with something plausible. "Just doing research," he says eventually. "Studying up on some demonic lore, nothing too fascinating."

"Come one Sammy, give me more than that. Maybe I can help. I do study these types of things. " you lightly bump his shoulder, giving him a smile. 

He looks at you, seeing the genuine offer to help. He knew he should keep you at arm's length, keep you safe. But he couldn't resist your smile, your kind eyes. "Okay, fine," he relents. "Honestly, I'm trying to find out more about demons and what they're capable of."

"Any specific type you're looking for? From my knowledge of the type of mythology I study there can be different types. " you continue to explain your studies to him. There was a warm feeling in you as you noticed him listening intently to you, his eyes never leaving your face. You were passionate about the subject, and your excitement about it was contagious.

He felt his heart beat faster as you spoke, hanging on to every word. It was endearing to see you so animated and knowledgeable. "Different types of demons? I never realised," he said, despite already knowing what you're saying. "I thought they were all the same, just evil creatures of the night."

"Well they are, but you see they all have different purposes. Some make deals with humans, you know selling your soul and stuff - " 

Sam's eyes widen as you mention demons making deals, a sudden jolt of adrenaline shooting through him. He tries to keep his composure, praying that his reaction didn't give anything away.

"Deals?" he asks, as casually as possible. "Like, making deals for people's souls? That kind of thing?"

"There's this myth that if you sell your soul to a crossroads demon, they kill you off after ten years. " you whisper.

Sam's heart  races at the mention of crossroads demons. He knew all too well the truth about them. "Crossroads demons," he says, his voice low. "They're tricky bastards, that's for sure. Do you believe that? The ten year deal, I mean."

"Well, it's a myth right? " you laugh but then notice the serious look on Sam's face. "Can I be honest with you Sam? "

Sam glances down at you, his face serious but also curious. He doesn't know what to expect from the question, but nods at you to continue. "What is it? "

"I do believe that there's something out there, like the supernatural. Ever since I was a kid I felt like that. I thought by studying about it in university, it would help me understand. "

Sam looks at you in disbelief, not knowing what to make of your confession. He had never met someone so open about this kind of thing. To be so willing to believe in the supernatural without much evidence was...refreshing.

He leaned in closer as you spoke, hanging on your every word. "You've always felt that way?" he asks. "Since you were a kid? You've never wondered if perhaps it's just your imagination?"

"I think it was maybe just my imagination but hey, it's still interesting to learn about I guess. "

Sam smiled at your response, finding your unwavering belief in the unknown fascinating. Your willingness to explore this world of shadows and demons without fear was admirable.

"Interesting is one word for it," he says, his tone slightly humorous. "Most people run for the hills at the mention of anything supernatural."

"True. " you agree, laying your head against the book shelf behind. "What got you interested? " 

Sam leans into the shelf as well, his body just barely touching yours. He tries to keep a level head, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

He thinks for a moment, before replying. "Let's just say interest runs in the family. " he says. "There's so much out there in the shadows that people don't understand. It's like a mystery waiting to be unravelled."

"A mystery waiting to be unravelled. " you are unaware of the reality of his words. Sam chuckles as he watches you ponder.   

"What's funny? " you lift your head to look at him only to find him smiling at you. 

Sam shakes his head, his smile growing wider. "It's nothing, just a thought," he replies, his eyes never leaving yours. He can't help but stare at you, admiring the innocence in your gaze. It was refreshing to see someone so curious and open-minded, someone who wasn't aware of the dark secret he carried.

"Share your thoughts with the class, Sam. " you place your hand on his. 

Sam's heart skids in his chest as you place your hand on his. The feeling of your skin against his sends electricity coursing through his body. "Well - " he starts, his voice slightly more strained than usual. "It's just that I find it amusing that you're so interested in the supernatural, and yet you have no idea how close to the truth you actually are."

"The truth? What? Some demon is coming to get me? " you joke. 

Sam lets out a strained laugh, shaking his head. "No, no," he says. "Just...you've got a good eye. You're looking in the right places. You never know what you might find."

The irony is not lost on him. Here he was, a professional demon hunter, sitting with a girl who was oblivious to the monsters that lurk in the shadows.

"And why would I want to find it? Look I may be interested in these things but hey if a demon showed up on my doorstep I'd shit myself. "

Sam laughs heartily at your comment. He imagines your reaction.  "Well, I can't blame you there," he says, still chuckling. "Seeing a demon up close and personal is no joke. Most people would have a heart attack on the spot."

You noticed the honesty in his words and began to wonder, "Yeah, it must be scary. "

Sam nods at your response, his expression becoming a little more serious. "Yeah, it is," he says, his voice quieter now. "Demons are vicious creatures, dangerous and unpredictable. They'll stop at nothing to...well, let's just say they're not here to be your friend."

"Sam are you alright? " You turn fully towards him and take a hold of his hand. There is a tired look in his eyes that grows more prominent now in the dull light of the library. 

Sam's hand instinctively holds onto yours, his grip firm but gentle. He looks down at your intertwined hands, letting out a soft sigh. "I'm just tired," he confesses, his voice weary. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in ages. It's like I can't escape..."

He catches himself, realising he's said too much. He quickly tries to put on a smile, trying to hide his exhaustion.

You couldn't help but caress his cheek, feeling slightly bad for the boy in front of you. He seemed like a genuine person who has been through a lot.

"I know how that feels, I have ADHD and sometimes it doesn't let me sleep at night. " you say, trying to be vulnerable towards him to show him that you were genuine. 

Sam leans into your touch, the feeling of your hand against his cheek soothing. He glances at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and comfort.

"You have ADHD? I never would've guessed." he smiles at your attempt to relate to him, appreciating the gesture more than you could know.

"Was it all the fidgeting or the non-stop talking? " you laugh a little and so does he, a dimple popped out on his cheek that makes you look at him fondly. 

"Maybe a combination of both," he says. "You're surprisingly bouncy and talkative. It's cute."

"Thanks. " you shrugged, "Most think I'm annoying. " 

Sam looks at you, a look of disbelief on his face. "Annoying? Those people must be idiots." He shakes his head, still smiling at you. "You're not annoying. Far from it."

"You're nice Sam. " you brush your hands through his hair before your eyes land on the clock on the wall.  "I've got to get back to my shift. "

Sam helps you gather up the notes he had borrowed, feeling a pang of disappointment as you prepare to leave. "Okay, yeah, of course," he says, still a little reluctant to see you go.

He gazes down at you, his eyes lingering for a moment. "Before you go," he says suddenly, a flicker of courage sparking inside of him. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it? " 

Sam's heart thumps loudly in his chest, his mind suddenly racing. He knew he was taking a risk here, but he had to ask.

"I was wondering if I could have your number," he says, his voice slightly shaky. "Just in case I need some more myth and lore advice sometime."

"Oh, yeah sure. " you smiled and pulled out a pen from a stack of the notes he had and wrote down your number on the top page of the stack before noticing a symbol he had scribbled down on it. 

"I know this symbol. " you gently pull out the page and examine it closely. Sam looks surprised at the fact that you had recognised it. 

"You know that symbol? " he asks, his tone a mixture of disbelief and caution.

"Hades. " you say, nodding your head. "Ancient Greek, I'm talking like really ancient. This was used as a summoning tool to get one of Hades' men to show up. People who had the means to call upon him used this to get a one way ticket to the underworld, kinda like skipping the whole dead line and passing all those judgement people. "

"That's what this is? A summoning tool? " he glanced back down at the paper. "How did you get that so fast? "

"I study this Sam, kind of my speciality. " you say. 

Eyes widen as you easily identify each symbol, one after the other. Sam can't help but feel a pang of worry mixed with fascination. Were you simply a mythology enthusiast, or was there something more to your vast knowledge?

"Okay, so all these symbols have something to do with summoning one one Hades’ men, Thanatos, but there's a piece missing. "

Sam's mind races as he takes in your words. He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool. "What piece is missing? " he inquires, keeping his voice steady. 

"I'm assuming that's what you're looking for? The missing piece? You're not going to find it in this book then. " you say. 

"Not in this book, why's that? “ he asks. 

"This book is filled with Christian lore. You're not going to find anything here. You need ancient Greek lore. "

He sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Damn," he mutters. "Ancient Greek lore, huh? Any idea where I might find something like that? “

"Follow me mister, I do still work here after all. " you walk past the book aisles to the other side of the library where the ancient Greek and Roman books were situated. "Here they are. "

Sam’s mind was still racing from your earlier revelation. He takes in the unfamiliar titles surrounding him as you stop in front of a shelf filled with ancient Greek and Roman texts.

"I hope you can read ancient Greek. " you laugh. "I'll leave you to it though, my supervisor will kick my ass if she doesn't find me at the front desk. Let me know when you're done though. "

Sam chuckles at your joke and gives a nod as you prepare to leave. He watches you go, appreciating the help you've given him so far. "Hey, wait," he calls out suddenly, a thought crossing his mind.

You stop in your tracks and turn back to him, "Yes? "

Sam hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should ask his question. But then he decides to just go for it. "Since you're so knowledgeable about all this lore, can I ask you one more thing? " he inquires, his eyes searching yours for a response.

"Fire away. "

Sam chews on his lower lip as he considers how to phrase his question. He didn't want to sound crazy, but he had to ask. "Alright," he begins, his voice slightly shaky. "Hypothetically, if someone were to want to call upon Thanatos, how would they do it? “ 

"Summon Thanatos, seriously? " you wanted to laugh but then noticed the serious expression on Sam’s face. You cleared your throat and grabbed the pile of notes from his hand and assembled them onto the table.

It all formed pieces of a really weird puzzle and only the first piece was missing. "There you go, until you find the missing piece you can't do anything though. Whatever you have to do, it needs to be done in this order.  "

Sam watched intently as you arranged the notes into a makeshift puzzle. He was impressed with your ability to piece together seemingly unrelated information, forming a clearer picture. He reaches out to the table, his fingers brushing across the notes. "And if I find the missing piece? " he asks, a hint of anxiousness in his voice.

"You call upon Thanatos, I presume. " you confirm. "That's what these symbols are. All demons are trapped in hell which is the underworld for the ancient Greeks. Get the right piece and I guess it's like opening a door for them.  "

Sam nods slowly, absorbing your words.  

"I'm assuming this isn't some kind of project. " you look at Sam with a serious and concerned expression laced on your face.

Sam's eyes meet yours, and he hesitates for a moment. He could feel your concern, and it tugged at him. He knew he shouldn't keep you in the dark, that you deserved an explanation, but before he can form a response, he's interrupted by a ringing sound from his pocket. He pulls out his phone and glances at the screen, his expression hardening.

Sam answers the call and turns away from you, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks into the phone "What do you have, Dean? "

He listens for a few moments, his free hand running through his hair in a frustrated gesture. He glances over at you momentarily, making sure you weren't listening. After a brief moment Sam gets off the phone, his voice now hasty and laced with worry.

"I need to go," he says abruptly, his tone urgent. "Something's come up."

"Oh alright, well don't forget your stuff. " you help him gather the pages again and watch him stuff it into his bag.

Sam nods in thanks, his mind clearly elsewhere. He slings the bag over his shoulder and turns to look at you. "Sorry to cut this short," he apologises, his voice tinged with regret. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Don't worry about it, whatever that was sounded important. " you smile and watch as he walks away fast from the library. You look out the window and watch him get into a black car with another guy as they drive away in a hurry leaving you to your shift. 

~~~

"Find anything? " Dean asks Sam as they speed through the road.

Sam shakes his head, his mind still on the conversation with you. He was frustrated that he didn't have the answer yet. "Not yet," he replies, his voice tight. "But there was this girl at the library, she was surprisingly familiar with the symbols. “

"A girl huh? She's pretty? " Dean smirks at Sam before returning his eyes to the road.

Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes at Dean. Trust him to focus on that aspect.

"She's...interesting," Sam replies, trying to downplay it. "She knew a lot about the symbols, more than most people. “

"You think she's a demon? " Dean asked seriously. 

Sam paused for a moment, considering the possibility. While it seemed far-fetched, it wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility. "No," he finally answers, shaking his head. "She seemed normal. Human."

"What'd she give you? Anything useful that would explain all these walking corpses around town? "

Sam reaches into his bag and pulls out the stack of pages filled with scribbled notes and symbols. "She was able to identify these," he says, shuffling through the pile. "And she explained what they were but we're still missing a piece. It’s like a puzzle. "

"Man, I hate puzzles. " Dean complained. 

Sam nods in agreement, especially when your life, and other people's lives, depended on them. "Yeah, tell me about it," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. "But we have to figure it out. People are dying, Dean. We have to stop it. "

"Yeah I know. She say anything about the missing piece? Where do we find it? “

Sam shakes his head, sighing in frustration. "No, but she did say something about ancient Greek and Roman lore. So we might need to dig through some of Bobby’s old history books."

"Oh yay, love me the Olympics. " Dean rolled his eyes and pulled up to the motel they were staying at. They both rush into the room and shut the doors and windows immediately. 

Sam sits down at the small desk, opening the laptop and immediately launching an online search for information on the mythology. He types in keywords related to their case and scans through page after page of search results, hoping to find something useful.

Dean cracks open a beer and begins looking through Bobby's old journals trying to find something useful to them. After about two and a half hours of searching they came up with nothing. "Damn it man. You're saying this library chick knew this stuff immediately? "

Sam shuts the laptop in frustration, rubbing a hand over his tired face. They had been at it for hours and still had nothing. "Yeah," he confirms. "She seemed to recognize the symbols right away, and knew what they were used for. It's like none of this was a surprise to her. "

"Sounds fishy man, are you sure she was human? " Dean takes a swig of his second beer. 

Sam sighs and shrugs, his mind still lingering on your knowledge of the symbols. It was impressive, but it did raise a few questions. "I don't know," he admits, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. 

"You said she studied these things? Like as a degree? "

Sam nods, recalling what you had told him at the library. "Yeah, she said she was interested in these things, and she had studied them extensively. "

"Look, I know you're developing some sort of attachment to this girl but we might need her help, Sammy. " Dean looks at his brother, Sam's face was conflicted. He too didn't want to drag an innocent girl into this.

Sam frowns,he knew Dean was right, but the thought of putting you in danger didn't sit well with him. "I don't want to put anyone in harm's way," he argues, his voice a mix of concern and determination. "But you're right. We need her help, she's the only lead we have right now."

Sam hesitates for a moment, but he finally pulls out his phone and dials your number and waits anxiously for you to pick up.

You were about to close up the library when your phone rang all of a sudden. Fishing it out of the bag you answered the call, waiting for the caller to speak first. 

As the call connects, Sam takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. "Hello?" he says into the phone, his tone laced with urgency.

"Hi, who is this? " you ask.

"It's Sam Winchester," he replies, his voice serious. "The guy from the library earlier today. Look, I need to talk to you about something important."

"Oh hi Sam, what can I do for you? " you asked, locking up the library and heading to the car.

Sam takes note of the sound of keys in the background. "Are you still at the library?" he asks. 

"Almost about to leave, why? Did you forget something here? " you asked, now in the car tossing your bag in the backseat. There was a slight ringing in your head followed by a sharp pain. You reached back to your bag and brought out your painkillers.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Sam reassures you. "But there's something I need to talk to you about in person. It's pretty important. Can we meet? "

"Yeah sure, how far are you from the library? " you manage to say after swallowing the pills.

Sam looks out the motel window, his gaze fixed on the street outside. "Not too far. We're staying at the Starlight motel. Room 4B. Can you come over here?"

"Oh, alright. Who's 'we' by the way? " you ask, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. 

Sam grimaces, realising that he hadn't really explained the situation fully to you yet. "Oh uh...my brother Dean's here with me," he admits, his voice slightly apologetic.

"Oh I see. I'll be on my way shortly Sam. " you say goodbye and make your way to the motel a little weary of why Sam sounded so urgent. For the sake of protection, you pulled pepper spray from the bag and walked up to the motel room, knocking on the door.

Sam and Dean hear the knock at the door, and Sam jumps up to answer it. He glances through the peephole and sees you standing outside. He opens the door and immediately his eyes widen at the sight of your pepper spray. "Whoa, easy there," he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Sorry, momma taught me to be safe. " you laugh and enter the room, pepper spray still in hand. There was another guy there you assumed to be Sam’s older brother. He was a little older than Sam, slightly shorter with green eyes.

Dean watches you as you enter the room, his expression a mix of curiosity and scepticism. He takes note of the pepper spray in your hand, silently assessing if you were a threat. But when you mention your mother, he barks a laugh. "Smart woman," he comments with a smirk. "Never hurts to be prepared. “ 

"I'm Y/N. "  you extend your hand to the guy and he shakes it, telling you his name. You then turn to Sam, "What is it that you called me for? " 

Sam motions for you to take a seat on the bed. He sits down next to you, while Dean stands by the window with his arms crossed. "Alright, this is going to sound a little strange," Sam begins, looking at you intently. "But there's something we need to ask you about. “

"Alright then, ask away. "

Sam glances at Dean, silently asking if he should reveal the truth fully. Dean just shrugs nonchalantly. Sam takes a deep breath and turns back to you. "Have you ever heard of demons before?" he asks, his voice measured and serious.

"Demons? " you laugh, looking back and forth between the brothers, "Like the ones in myths we were talking about today? "

Sam and Dean exchange a glance, amused by your scepticism. "No, not myths," Sam answers bluntly. "We mean real, authentic demons. Straight out of Hell."

"What? "

Dean leans against the wall, a cocky smirk on his face. "You think we're pulling your leg, don’t you?" he says, looking at your doubtful expression.

"We'll yeah, just little. " you eye Dean up and down.

"Look. demons are real and we need a way to stop them. " Dean blurts out, Sam gives Dean a warning glare. He had wanted to ease you into this revelation, not just dump it all on you at once.

"What he means is that we're hunters," Sam explains, his gaze fixed on you intently. "Hunters of supernatural creatures, like demons, monsters, and witches."

"Hunters? " you tilt your head, taking in the information.

Sam nods, his expression serious. "Yeah," he confirms. "We track and kill things that go bump in the night. We've been doing it our whole lives."

"Wait, this may sound crazy but do you know Bobby Singer? " you ask. 

Dean immediately averts his gaze from you to Sam. "You know Bobby? " Dean stares at me.

Sam pauses, a little taken aback by your question. He glances at Dean, who looks equally surprised. "Yeah," he answers slowly, his curiosity piqued. "We know Bobby. How do you know him?"

"Bobby is my uncle. Well my dad's family friend, I used to see him a lot when I was little. He used to tell me stories all the time about how he was a hunter and he used to kill monsters like what you’re saying now. Of course he was a drunk so nothing he said was real but it still made me interested in mythology. "

Dean looks at you quizzically, his mind racing with questions. "Why hasn't Bobby ever mentioned you? " he asks, his voice laced with suspicion.

"He and my dad had this fight when I was twelve, never saw him since. "

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, "What happened between them? If you don't mind me asking. " he asks, his tone softer now.

"Something about a hunting trip gone wrong? I think my dad must've messed up and Bobby got angry. They used to go deer hunting often. "

Sam and Dean exchange a knowing glance. They both knew about the disastrous hunting trip Bobby had gone on with John. They had heard it from Bobby many times over the years.

"Must have been one hell of a hunt," Dean mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

"Wait but what does that have to do with demons? My dad hunted deer with Bobby, not monsters or whatever. Those were just stories. "

Sam takes a deep breath, knowing that the explanation was about to get more complicated. "It's a little more than that," he begins. "Bobby was involved in a different type of hunting. Supernatural hunting and now I think that your dad was involved too. "

"You're joking, right? " you look between the brothers confused. 

Dean snorts with a sarcastic laugh. "Hell, I wish we were," he says, his expression serious. "But we've been hunting these things all our lives. Demons, ghosts, werewolves, you name it."

You swallowed hard, trying to hide the fear. "So what do you want from me? I'm not some type of demon or anything.  "

Sam quickly senses your fear and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "No, no, we know you're not a demon," he reassures you. "We just wanted to ask you about those symbols. "

"Oh. " you eased up a little. "Well those are to summon Thanatos from the underworld like I explained. "

Dean leans forward, intrigued. "How do you know so much about these symbols? "

"Mythology 101 at Harvard. " you say, shrugging as if it were nothing.

Dean raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Harvard, huh? Brains and beauty."

You blush at his words and fail to notice the annoyed look Sam gives his brother. He didn't miss the way Dean was eyeing you up and down.

"So anyway, what do you need me for? I already explained what there was. " you asked.

Sam rubs the back of his neck, slightly hesitating before speaking. "Well, we're trying to figure out how this thing got to earth and why someone would have wanted to summon it."

"And you think that I could help? "

Sam rubs his forehead, the exhaustion from the long day catching up to him. "We don't have anyone else to ask right now," he admits. "You said you know a lot about this, so we thought you might be able to give us some answers. “

You notice the exhaustion on both Sam and Dean's face and nod, agreeing to help them.

"Can you read ancient Greek? " Dean asks, placing one of Bobby’s old journals in front of you. 

"Yes I can, a little rusty but I can do it. " you glance at this book and pull out a blank page to scribble down whatever you decipher. "This might take me a while, it's a lot and let's just say the grammar is terrible. “ 

Dean chuckles at your comment, his impatience showing. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart, we got all night. “ 

You continue pouring over the text, the brothers leave you at the table and do some research on the laptop. You were all busy for what felt like about three hours.

Sam and Dean had gotten so engrossed in their research that they lost track of time. Sam glances over at you at the small table and notices you diligently working on the ancient text. "How's it going over there? " he calls out. 

"I'm almost done. " you say, scribbling the last few words on the page.

"That was quick," Dean comments, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Thanks, I was the top student. " you walk over to them at the coffee table and sit next to Sam, placing the page of translated Greek in the centre.

"Damn, that's some impressive writing skills you got there, sweetheart," Dean smirks.

Sam gives Dean a warning glance, silently telling him to cut it out. "Dean," he says, his tone stern. "Give it a rest, will you? " Dean rolls his eyes and nods.

"Okay so from what was written the missing piece isn't a symbol but more of a chant that you say out loud as you assemble the pieces together. It’s a ritual. “ 

Sam rubs his chin thoughtfully, taking in your translation. “So if we do this, we summon whatever is bringing those corpses back? Thanatos, you said? “

You nod, confirming his words. "Yeah. it says you have to do it thirty minutes before the full moon rises and guess what moon it is tonight. "

"We have about an hour until we need to do this. " Dean says, looking at the time. 

"Damn, you're right," Sam mutters. 

You watch as the brothers scramble to get everything ready for the ritual. They pull out weird looking items in jars and bags with different types of smells. "You just casually have these things? "

Dean looks up from loading his shotgun with salt rounds and gives you a smirk. "We travel a lot," he says, his tone nonchalant. "We're always prepared."

Sam gathers the supplies and sets up a circle on the ground, carefully drawing symbols and diagrams around it. As they prepare the final items for the ritual you take a seat on the couch and rub your temples, trying to subside the oncoming headache. 

With fifteen minutes to spare before they start you pull Sam to the side while Dean is busy. "Hey, are you okay? " you ask him, noticing the fatigue on his face. 

Sam pauses, he can see the concern in your eyes, and appreciates your thoughtfulness. "Yeah, I'm okay," he replies, his voice a bit weary. "Just a little tired, and worried about what we're about to do."

He suddenly takes hold of your hand and intertwines your fingers, surprised by the comfort your touch brings him. 

"It must be scary? Having to deal with all of this. " 

“It is scary," he admits, his gaze meeting yours. "We've seen and faced things most people wouldn't believe exist. But we don't have a choice. We do this, or innocent people get hurt. Or worse."

"You're heroes. " you smile up at him.

Sam can't help but smile back, a hint of pride in his expression. "Thanks," he says, his voice softer now. "But we don't always feel like heroes. There's a lot of pain and suffering we've seen. Sometimes, we question if we're making any difference at all."

"One less demon on earth, I'd say that's a big difference. " you nod and place a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's almost time, you should join your brother. "

Sam's breath hitches and he savours the moment for a brief second, before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. " 

You watch as they wait for the right moment to begin the ritual. Sam effortlessly says the chant as Dean readies himself for whatever may come with a blade in his hand. You move behind the couch, away from them to be safe and out of the way. 

The room suddenly turned cold and the pain in your head grew more intense. Your vision clouds with green mist and as you make out a figure standing in the middle of the symbol that Sam drew. 

You blink to clear the mist from your eyes and notice the figure at Dean’s foot, dead. Confusion washes over you and you realise that the whole thing was over. 

Finally, Sam looks over at you and gives you a small nod. "It worked," he says, his voice filled with relief and exhaustion as if everything lasted a long time. 

You stare as the brothers clean out the mess. Dean drags the figure outside to bury its body before you could get a close look at it. 

You were left with Sam alone in the room. "I can't believe that just happened. " you say stunned.

"Yeah, believe me, it’s a lot to take in." Sam agrees. 

"Wait until you find out about the angels. " Dean shouts from outside. 

Sam chuckles at your astonishment. “Thank you for staying out of the way, it put up a good fight, you would’ve gotten hurt. “

You nod, having no idea what he was talking about. 

"You okay? " he asks, genuine concern in his eyes. "You holding up alright? " Sam closes the distance between the two of you. In the dim light of the room, he takes a moment to look at you, his gaze lingering on your face.

"I'm going to be honest Sam, that sacred me but I didn't shit myself so I think I'll be fine. " 

Sam throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh at your unexpected response. There’s a hint of relief in his expression as he looks back at you. "I appreciate your honesty," he grins, still chuckling. "Most people wouldn’t be so calm after witnessing a demon exorcism."

"I'm definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight but that's nothing a little alcohol can't fix. " 

Sam's expression softens. He can only imagine the shock and adrenaline rushing through your body right now. "You sure you want to go the alcohol route? " he says, a hint of worry in his voice.

"What other route is there Sam? I just saw the supernatural in real life, found out everything my drunk uncle Bobby told me was real. I think I deserve a drink. Heck, you deserve like five for dealing with this all the time. "

Sam lets out a sigh, knowing that you had a point. He can't really blame you for wanting to drown out the traumatic events of the night. “Well I wish I could catch a drink with you but there is still a lot to do. “

"There's more? I thought it was over. "

Sam shakes his head with a weary sigh.

"I wish it was that simple. There's still a lot of work to be done. We have to figure out who summoned this thing in the first place. It wasn't just a random occurrence. Someone wanted that thing on earth, and we need to find out why. "

"I don't suppose you'll be needing my help then. " you smile sadly. 

Sam frowns at your assumption. He can't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of you not being involved anymore. 

"Well then Sammy, you know where to find me should you find yourself needing any assistanc. " you pulled him in for a kiss. 

Sam is taken by surprise at your bold gesture, but he doesn't resist, letting himself be pulled in, his hand coming up to cup your face gently as your lips meet his. For a moment, all the chaos and danger of the world fade away.

"See you around. " you walk out the door leaving Sam staring.

Sam watches you walk out the door, his lips still tingling from the unexpected kiss. "Yeah, see you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of wistfulness.

~~~

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[mrsoftthoughts]

No thoughs, head empty, just Will solace trying to calm himself down the night before meeting Hades (God of the dead ,the king of the underworld and his boyfriend's father) praying to any deity that wants to show some Mercy towards him because he's going crazy due to the anxiety

And then Thanatos pops outs of the nothing

For Will's relief he hasn't died yet and Thanatos isn't here to collect his soul, but he's really really confused right now, the death himself heard his prayers and now is here to... Have a talk with him??

turns out that the god in front of him is also Hades son-in-law and chose to give some advise to the new family's addition because he sympathises with the poor guy.

[wlntrsldler]

mdni (luke castellan)

thinking thoughts of luke castellan and car sex.

you’re out on a quest or some shit and something— everything goes so wrong. and luke is just so frustrated.

he’s in the driver’s seat, fuming, im talking veins popping out on his temple and his hands are gripping the wheel until his knuckles are white and you should be scared because you’ve only seen him like this once or twice before and that didn’t end up well. but you’re not.

you’re turned on.

something about imagining his hand around your neck while he’s pumping all his frustrations into you like you were nothing but a fuck toy to him makes your tummy feel weird.

he doesn’t notice it at first because his eyes are on the dark, empty road, but then he sees your thighs press together and he smirks.

his baby is horny.

he signals right and you’re confused because camp was still a few miles away and there was nothing around you guys to stop at. then he puts the car in park and kills the battery. he’s on you after the headlights turn off.

it’s all teeth and groans and luke is undoing your seatbelt so you can climb over the middle console of the car and get on his lap. he doesn’t pull his lips away from you while he pushes the driver seat back.

he’s thrusting up into you, moaning into your mouth when he feels the slick through your leggings and he’s feral. he wants to taste you.

he opens the door and practically shoves you out of it to lead you to the backseat and for the first time, he’s actually thankful that camp was in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere because he’s hard as a rock and the tent in his pants is borderline embarrassing.

you’re laying down with your elbows propped on the armrests in the backseat and luke is on his knees. he’s looking at you with those eyes, and you know that it means he’s not stopping until he pulls two orgasms out of you.

he feels hot in his shirt so he takes it off and tosses it somewhere before he’s pulling your thighs with a yelp and propping your legs on his shoulders. he just devours you.

his tongue is relentless on your pussy, sucking and licking at your clit that you can’t stop yourself from thrashing around.

he slaps your ass hard enough to leave a print and he’s mumbling into you, “stay fucking still.”

and you’re whining telling him you’re trying but it feels too fucking good and he adds two fingers with his tongue and you lose it.

he’s reaching deep until he feels that spongy area inside of you. bingo.

his fingers keep hitting the spot and then you’re cumming all over his face. he knows he should pull away because he cant breathe but he physically can’t bring himself to. your taste is so intoxicating.

he’s breathing heavy when you shove his face away, overstimulated. your wetness is all over his chin and he’s grinning at you like he just won the goddamn lottery.

when your body gives out and one of your legs slip from his shoulder, your knee accidentally brushes against his hard cock and he hisses.

“you got another one for me?”

you want to say no because your last orgasm was so intense you almost blacked out but luke’s lips are puffy and wet and his pupils are dilated so wide you can barely make out the brown in his eyes, so you nod.

he’s quick to undo the buttons on his pants, like he’d burst if he wasn’t inside you in the next ten seconds. he thinks he actually might.

he pushes his pants down just enough to let his dick spring up, angry and red, dripping in precum. he sticks his cock inside you and you’re moaning, babbling incoherent words.

he’s gritting his teeth so he doesn’t make any noise but when you reach for his hand— he thinks you want to hold it, and he’s more than happy to show his baby he loves you— and guide his fingers around your throat, the sound that leaves luke’s lips is sinful.

he squeezes gently, just enough to make you lightheaded and make your next orgasm come quicker. you can’t say anything else but luke, luke, luke, please.

you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore but with the way you look under him right now, luke would give you anything in the world if you asked for it.

he tears his eyes away from your fucked out face for a second and watches the way his dick moves in and out of your pussy. there’s sweat dripping down his chest and you want to lick it off him but you don’t have any energy left to sit up.

he’s rutting into you fast, chasing his own release. and you pull him back to look at you because you’re telling him you’re close and luke wants to see you finish.

when the coil in your tummy finally snaps, you’re practically yelling at the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. luke removes the hand from around your throat and he reaches for the foggy window to hold himself up. as he cums into your spent pussy, his hand makes a hand print on the glass and he groans.

he pulls out of you with a whimper, his cock softening as he tucks it back into his pants. he watches as you catch your breath, licking his lips at the sight of his cum seeping out of you.

“look at my baby,” he cooes, unable to stop himself from taking his fingers and shoving it back into you so you don’t waste his cum. “so pretty when you’re all fucked out for me.”

you don’t make it back to camp until the next day.