Anonymously Knowing You
Fem!Reader x Luke Castellan
Summary: As you start to find comfort in your new friendship you establish some rules to keep yourself anonymous.
A/N: part two is out!! Hope you guys like it, feedback is always welcomed. Taglist if open comment or send ask to be added!
Taglist: @idli-dosa @v1ckycheesue @randomgurl2326
Word Count: 1.7k
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âSo, how was school today?â asked your mom, as both you and Percy ate opposite each other, seemingly ignoring each others' presence. âDo anything fun?â She pushed again, frustrated with the current state of her children. It was normal for you not to talk while eating lunch with your family, but Percyâs unusually quiet demeanor added to your motherâs concern.Â
âI'm going to have to stay at school to work with a study group. I might be late some daysâ you said, averting your eyes in hopes that she wouldn't see through the lie.Â
âOh, isn't that wonderful. Then I guess Percy and I will be seeing you less,â she said, her words carrying genuine meaning behind them.
 âActually, I am also staying for a study group after school,â continued Percy, nudging your foot and giving you a disapproving look. Percy didn't like lying to your mom; he was honest and open with her, telling her about everything that happened, maybe sometimes omitting certain parts but still. Meanwhile, you seemed to resort to lies more often. It wasn't that she would disapprove of your particular life choices, you just felt like she didn't really care about them like she did for Percy.Â
âSilena invited me for a sleepover. Can I go?â you asked, swiftly changing the subject.
âActually, Leo also invited me for a sleepover,â commented Percy,maintaining his disapproving gaze at you, one lie after the other.
 âSure, you both can go. I don't see why notâÂ
âThanks, Mom. Love youâ you said, rising to kiss her on the cheek leaving your mom surprised. âMoody teenagers, I'm telling you,â Percy concluded as he also made his way to his bedroom.Â
It wasnt that you didn't enjoy parties, but they werenât your scene either. Silena was lucky enough to have parents that never were home and a house big enough to throw a party. You found yourself playing beer pong with Clarisse against Percy and Jason. Clarisse kept winning, much to Jason's annoyance. âHey you're cheatingâ said Jason starting to get pissed off at the large amount of cups they had left compared to you guys almost full set. Overwhelmed by the crowd gathered mainly to witness Clarisseâs victories, you decided to walk away and find somewhere quieter.Â
As you maneuvered through the crowd, a hand wrapped around your arm. âY/N, come dance with me,â said Silena, a faint scent of alcohol lingering around her as she started to sway her body to the rhythm of the music. With a smile, you joined her, already having a few drinks in your system. You grabbed each other's hands and swayed along with the music, sharing laughs, a momentarily bearable atmosphere. But, as always, all good must come to an end. Silena suddenly felt a pair of arms slither around her waist. âBabe, where were you?â she asked, turning around to see Beckendorf, her attention fully diverted to
him,leaving you on the sidelines. You simply moved out of the way, no longer in the mood to continue dancing, opting for a less crowded corner of the house. Pulling out your phone, you debated on texting your new friend or not.
Unknown
Since when did parties get so boring?
Your palms are sweating as you hit send, staring at your phone as if it could magically produce a rapid response. Meanwhile, Luke found himself alone on a friday night, choosing not to attend the party he was invited to. Instead, he immersed himself in some random project, only to be interrupted by the appearance of a new notification.
UnknownÂ
Well depends you spend time withÂ
Was your date a no show?
Laughing out loud as you saw the message, you began to type a response. A small flutter of excitement tingled in your stomach as you hit send. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
UnknownÂ
Is that how you flirt?
And thereâs no dateÂ
UnknownÂ
Sorry am really bad at flirtingÂ
UnknownÂ
I can see thatÂ
Never do it againÂ
Luke smiled at your exchange of texts, making his way towards his bed as he typed away, noticing that you were doing the same.Â
UnknownÂ
So you hate parties?Â
UnknownÂ
Something like thatÂ
Hitting the send button once again, you continued to type, only to flinch as you heard a loud knock on the window. Clarisse stood there, grinning wide as ever, indicating that someone was up to something stupid. âCome on, Y/N, youâve got to see Travis chug a beer through his nose,â she said excitedly, jumping as she dragged you towards the commotion.Â
The hype slowly died down as the clock struck 2 am. People began to walk away, carrying their drunk friends and laughing about the stupid decision they had made. You might have lied to your mom about why you were sleeping over, but you were indeed staying at Silenaâs. sitting with your legs in the pool, you watched people leave, Percy right next to you.
âHave you ever tried kombucha?â he asked, gulping down the strange drink in his hands. You only grabbed onto it, taking a sip yourself. Percy pulled out his phone, starting to film a story for his close friends. âThe last survivors of the night, with my cool older sister,â he said, zooming into you, chuckling at his statement.Â
âI'm not cool, Percy,â you responded as he posted the video. You looked down at your feet avoiding your brother's scolding eyes. âThe fact that you don't recognise it makes you cooler, Y/N,â he remarked, and a comfortable silence fell between the two of you.Â
Building up the courage to speak a bit more , you began, âPerce I'm sor-â, only to be interrupted by Leoâs voice, âPercy weâre leaving,â making your brother jolt up and run towards his friends. Soon, he left too, leaving you there smiling bitterly at the good awful kombucha in your hands.
It was finally monday, meaning it was the first day of detention. âYou'll work in pairs during detention: so Jackson 1 and Grace, you're working together, Valdez, youâre alone. Jackson 2 and Castellan, off to workâ said Ms. Ava working on her knitting, Leo frowning at the thought of being left alone while Percy and Jason cheered, as you groaned at the prospect of working with the new guy.Â
âWell, get up, guys, we don't have all day,â repeated your teacher, prompting all of you to finally stand up and head towards your respective duties. Grabbing the buckets provided, you made your way towards the greenhouse, noticing that Luke was struggling with the box in his handsÂ
âYou need help with that?â you offered, albeit half heartedly.
âIâm okay,â he responded dryly as you led the way.Â
You settled down your supplies, carefully adding soil to your box in preparation for adding seeds. You noticed how Luke grabbed the bag of seeds ,ready to dupe its contents.Â
âWait, you have to first add water,â you stopped him, spraying some water on the soil. âThen you can add the seeds.â Handing him back the bag, you watched as he dumped them all at once. âYou're not supposed to do it like that,â you complained, but Luke only stared at you, annoyed. He grabbed a rake, thinking it would solve his little mishap, only to be met by more complaints from you.Â
âNo, that tool isn't for that, and that bag you have isn't even soil,â you pointed out, Luke took a step back as he started to grow even more annoyed at your bossiness. âYou're not helping by doing everything wrong,â you finished off angrily, patting down more soil. âHaven't you thought that maybe I'm just doing it my way?â he asked.
âWell, havenât you thought that maybe your way isn't that right one?â you sassed back, rolling your eyes out of instinct. âDo you enjoy doing things your own way? Or the way people taught you to?â he retorted, copying your eye roll. âWhat would you know about how I do things? You don't even know me.âÂ
âI know people have been saying you roasted Ms. Dots,'' he said jokingly, your blood boiling at the sound of his words. âYou know what people say about you?â Luke's ears perked up in curiosity to your next words. âNothing, because you don't have friends,â he huffed, pressing his lips together looking into your eyes. âAnd what, you only have two?âÂ
âOkay, that's enough. Both of you can leave for today,â said Ms. Ava, clapping to grab your attention. You simply dropped your tools and walked towards Percy, leaving the school, while Luke watched you leave, equally as mad. And even as you got home you still felt angry at
him, he was a jackass you couldn't stand thinking he was so smart reading other people like a book.Â
UnknownÂ
Are you there?
You texted, finding yourself increasingly drawn to exchange messages with the mysterious number. Luke couldn't deny that he found himself eagerly waiting for a text from this unknown girl, a smile spreading across his face whenever the notification popped up on his phone.Â
Unknown
I had the worst day ever
Unknown
Again?
UnknownÂ
All because of stupid
SelfishÂ
SmartassÂ
UnknownÂ
Let it all outÂ
UnknownÂ
He's just an assholeÂ
Luke chuckled at your little rant, realizing that whoever was on the other end seemed to hold a strong dislike for this person. Yet, the way you described the feud brought back memories of the small, petty fights he used to have on the playground.Â
UnknownÂ
Guess those aren't hard to come byÂ
There's this girl at my school, she's insufferableÂ
UnknownÂ
We should set them up
UnknownÂ
Best revenge everÂ
You laughed at the text, imagining Luke and some random girl together, possibly experiencing a taste of his own medicine. However, you froze in your tracks as you saw the next text.
UnknownÂ
What's your nameÂ
UnknownÂ
Why would I tell you my name?
Would you like my address and social security too?
What if you're a stalker?
UnknownÂ
If i were a stalker i would already know where you live?
Luke could only facepalm at his responde, really? Was that the best he could come up with?Â
UnknownÂ
Am joking btwÂ
You stood there for a few seconds trying to think of the best solution to your dilemma as you texted back.Â
UnknownÂ
Lets sets some rules
No personal information
No pictures, no voice messagesÂ
Lets just be anonymous
get to know each other betterÂ
AnonymousÂ
Okay letâs be anonymous
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hi hello pretty girl
i hope you're doing good
i just wanted to ask if you're on a hiatus or something? i miss proximity and am so sorry if you're on break and i disturbed you or something, i might have completely missed that post. mwah, lot's of love <3
hi!! no im not, its just i ended proximity after the 10 parts :(
thank you for the support, i might come back to it in the future
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new posts for the threadđŤ¨đŤ¨đŤ¨
OH WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE đđ¤đđ¤đ
this is so perfect for my plans
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I walked with you once upon a dream
warnings: astronomically large usage of the word "laugh", "whine" and "blush". not proofread ?? kinda ?? found this in my notes #fuckitweball
pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
a/n: Part 2? đ
The night had been unforgiving on you. You tossed and turned under your blanket, the wooly cover being too thick at one point and too thin at another. Every time you closed your eyes, they rolled back uncomfortably and as soon as you somehow managed to get somewhat comfortable, a song your friend had been singing the day began to play on loop in your mind, haunting you.
Finally, you somehow managed to succumb into a half awake half asleep state, but it seemed like Merlin wasn't done with you just yet.
Your mind was plagued by at least three different dreams, each one stranger than the last. War, pregnancy, the muggle movie Avatar all made a fashionable appearance, and thats why currently you're sat at the Hufflepuff table, your hair nearly not neat enough as you'd like it to be, your eyelids swollen and heavy, your under eyes tinted purple.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Cedric chirps happily as he slides into the seat next to you, his plate filled with his usual breakfast: toast and some grapes. Usually, you'd greet him right back, giving him a tight hug before discussing over both of your classes for the day, whining over the homework.
Today isn't an usual day, though. You manage to give him a small smile, weak enough to be called a grimace, even. His face is instantly taken over by a frown, his hand placed upon your forehead.
"Are you well, love? Did you manage to catch a bug of sorts?" He says, his worried expression reminding you of a mother hen. You can't help but let out a soft laugh at the thought, his worry replaced by an eye roll.
"Laughin' at me, are you now? Pffft, and to think I was worried," he huffs like a first year, offering you a glare. You've always been exceptionally good at reading people's eyes, though, so you see through his act instantly, the playful glint giving it away.
"No, mother hen Cedric. I'm fine, I just kept tossing and turning alllllll night," you giggle, the lovely sound turning into a groan halfway through. You cover your face with your hands, rubbing slow circles over your eyelids, the colourful shapes of all sizes giving you little relief.
Cedric starts going off about how you need to sleep earlier, get those very much needed 8 hours but you tune him out (like always), looking around the Great Hall instead. Most people are groggy while eating their breakfast, leaning their heads on their friends' shoulders, lids half shut.
Your eyes unconsciously drift over to the Slytherin table, curiously taking a peek at their expressions. People are wary of them, everyone knows that. Their mean faces and cold eyes leave little to the imagination, making most people grasp their wands tighter whenever walking past them.
You know better. You see better. You see their faces; their eyes bright and shining, their mouth's pulled into smiles despite the early morning hours, laughter echoing from all around the long table. It brings a smile to your face. You've always been fond of them, to everyone's surprise. You've managed to make quite a few surprising friends, too. Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theodore.
Theodore Nott. You say his name with a dreamy sigh even in your thoughts. He's sole reason your heart skips a few beats whenever you're looking over at their table, the sole reason you check your lipstick and mascara before hanging out with them, the sole reason you've bought a new, ridiculously overpriced perfume to spray on whenever you know he'll be near.
Most would call this a silly little crush, but you swear on Merlin's beard you're in love. You're completely infatuated with that dark haired boy. He's fascinating, only speaking a few words every so often to express his opinion. He's not shy, by all means. You're smart enough to realise that. He observes, not interrupting unless necessary. You're pretty sure you've seen him smile only once. That was the day you learned the Italian boy had dimples. You haven't stopped thinking about them since.
You like to think that the rare sight called Theo Nott's smile was most of the time, directed at you. The first time you caught a glimpse of one you were walking by the shore of the Black Lake alongside him, the sun setting in the distance, casting gorgeous golden hues all over the place. You rambled on about your day, this particular one having been extremely exhausting, more so than usual.
You're not really sure what made him crack one of those precious smiles, but you suppose it was a joke about your misery. Seeing him like this, it made your heart skip a few beats. The rest of the walk continued in silence, but you wouldn't have had it any other way. You wouldn't have been able to stop yourself from declaring all of your bottled up feelings to him.
Most of your walks happened in comfortable silence, but you preferred that. You liked how with him, you could just, be. Exist, without a need for a meaning. After a long day, you didn't have to force a smile to your face. You could just appear in the Slytherin common room and ask for him to come and walk. He'd always come with you, without a single utter of complaint. You'd walk with him, ask for a few puffs from his cigarette, complaining when he'd shake his head, telling you how the sunshine girl of Hogwarts could in no way be caught smoking with Theodore Nott.
Youre shaken out of your daydreams as your eyes land on a pair of grey ones. Your cheeks heat up instinctively and you pray to Helga up there that he can't see it from that far across the room. You offer him a warm smile and your heart skips a beat (or two) as you see him biting his cheek to hold back a one of his own.
A little smirk still comes through and it makes you grip the table from giddiness, butterflies swarming all around the inside of your stomach. You smile even brighter and somehow manage to tear your gaze away, trying to focus on Cedric's rambling.
".....You're not listening, are you?" He deadpans, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. You don't say anything, just offer him a sweet smile and press a kiss to his cheek before standing up and making your way back to your dorms to grab your books for the day.
First class of the day is divination. You don't think there's ever been a class that makes your eyelids heavier than that. Maybe you'll get to catch up on some of the lost sleep?
The bells rings, indicating the start of the first class. Students scurry off into different classrooms, but you're still quite far from yours.
"Shit, fuck fuck fuck," you curse softly, quickening your step. You grip your books closely against your chest and make a run for it, the sound of your shoes hitting the marble floor echoing across the massive hallway.
You burst through the trapdoor, panting softly from having to climb the ladder with your books in your hands, cutting off professor Trelawney in the middle of explaining today's lesson. She sighs and shakes her head, making you smile sheepishly at her. Hushed apologies spill from your mouth as you make your way to your usual seat in the back of the classroom but you're caught off guard as its taken already. Well, almost taken.
One of the seats seems to be unoccupied, but the other is supporting a very, very good looking Slytherin.
"Theo," you breathe out in surprise, cheeks flushing. You look at the free chair, then back at him. "Is it, is it okay if I sit here? I'm usually alone back here. Didn't expect for you to make an appearance."
He nods curtly and you thank him with a little smile, dropping your books on the desk. You sit down and try to tune yourself into Trelawney's teaching, but the heat radiating from Theo and his addictive scent are clouding your senses.
"Now, for the practical part. You are to be paired up with the person next to you. Tell each other about the dream you had tonight and search for the meaning in your books. You've got half an hour for the task."
That certainly snapped you out of your thoughts. You hear a cough next to you and you turn to face him, rolling your eyes playfully as he motions for you to start.
"Well, I don't even know where to start. I could not fall asleep, no matter what i did. When i finally managed to pass out after 5 hours of tossing and turning, i had this weird dream about snakes wanting to kill me." You start, grimacing as you begin to remember. You grab a quill and write a few keywords to the parchment in front of you.
You look back up at him to ask about his dreams but instead, you find Theodore Nott quietly chuckling to himself.
"Stop laughing, you bloke! I've had weird dreams ever since i was a kid!" You try and defend yourself, opening your book to try make sense of at least some aspect of the psychedelic visions. "What about you, though? What did you see?"
He hums in though, chewing on his inner cheek. "I saw me and you on a date at Hogsmeade."
That definitely catches you off guard. "....you what? Actually?
"Yes, actually," he chuckles, shaking his head, looking up at you. "I'm not making this up, i swear!" He adds, raising his hands in defence.
You cant help but laugh, writing that down as well.
"...we could make it a reality. If you're up tor it?" You murmur softly after a few seconds, pretty sure you're on the verge of passing out at any second. You keep your gaze down, not daring to look up. Not wanting to see his grey eyes sparkle with amusement for suggesting something so silly.
"Sure. Three Broomsticks, Saturday, eleven o'clock?" He inquires, and you barely have time to nod in agreement before the bell rings yet again. He leans closer and presses a kiss to your cheek, his signature lazy smirk painted onto his face before he mutters a simple goodbye, literally disappearing into thin air.
You sit still for a good few minutes as the classroom empties out, your hand hovering over the spot that his lips touched, a faint smile adoring your face. Holy fuck.
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đď¸ Ë*°࿠CP 1, may the best racer win!
đ¤ mcâs notes : AND HERE SHEEE ISS!! yes,, iâve been tryna cook this. THIS WHAT IVE BEEN SO EXCITED ABOUT. guys. racers are hot. like cmon. how could i not. AND REMEMBER WHEN I SAID LEOâS FAV MOVIE IS CARS? yep. this is it. GAH i hope you guys like this as much as i loved making it!!! enjoy! and see you again soon! >3<
đď¸ Ë*°ŕż
LEO WIPED the grease off his forehead with the ends of his white tank. heâd been working on his car for the past hours, forgetting that it had been forever since heâd last eaten. he should probably get on that. he let out his last heavy breath before getting up. he patted the hood of his red racecar, âyouâre almost as good as new flames.â since his last race, his car had been beaten up pretty good by one of the other racers, travis stoll. he was annoyed to say the least, but he shouldnât have been surprised. thatâs what regularly happens on the track.
âleo?â he slightly jumped at the sound of his name being called, since it was incredibly late at night. only hearing the crickets out of his garage door and the flickering of his broken light. âyo jace!â he clutched his chest in relief, not that he was.. nervous or scared.. or anything. jason chuckled, patting flames with his own palm. ânot working yet?â leo bit his lip, âjust a few more tweaks and sheâll be good.â leo mirrored the blondieâs smile.
jason nodded, âgood. âcause we got another race coming up soon.â leo furrowed his brows, âwh-what? we just finished tour!â he shot back, gripping the wrench in his hand tightly. jason gave a kind of scoff-laugh, âyouâll change your mind once you find out whoâs coming out of camp to race.â the emphasizing of jasonâs choice of words brought leo curious to say the least. the curly-haired kept silent, watching his best friend leave and back inside.
âwho??â he asked the darkness.
đď¸ Ë*°ŕż
âANNIE, iâm gonna get myself killed.â
âno you wonât! iâve seen you out there (name)! youâre an amazing racer!â (name) groaned softly, throwing her head back in her chair. âno way josĂŠ!! iâm telling you!â annabeth exchanged the same expression, crossing her hands over her chest as she attempted to convince one of her very best friends to start racing. âpiper and hazel would say the same! youâre amazing.â
âplease donât charm me.â
annabeth groaned, âokay fine. one race.â (name) continued her own work, rubbing her forehead as she focused. halfly on the words of annabeth. âyou do one race, if you hate it, fine. no more racing. you like it, then keep. doing. it!â (name) stopped. it wasnât an entirely bad idea. she did love racing. whatâs the worst that could happen? she turned to annabeth, âone race. iâll do one race.â annabeth practically jumped in place, clearing her throat she beamed. âitâs settled.â
they shook hands. âwe need to get you some equipment little miss sunshine racer.â
đď¸ Ë*°ŕż
VEGAS WAS never this big back then. at least to leo it wasnât. he remembered wilderness school back in nevada with jason and piper, and vegas was never this big. but then again, they weâre always on some weird field trip out of the city.
âfeels good to be back, yeah?â jason patted the shorter boyâs back. leo letting out a chuckle as he shook his head. âyeah. duh.â he replied a hint of sarcasm mixed in. jason knocked the back of his head with another laugh. âyou never told me who this special guest racer was.â leo opened the pack of candy in the compartment of his car while some others polished the red car.
jason let out an âahh.â âiâd rather keep it a secret until we get on the track.â leo rolled his eyes, âjason câmon! you know i canât wait for shit like this!â he cried, his mouth full of rainbow-colored skittles. jason laughed again before being cut off by the host, âracers to your stations! the race is about to start!â the two began to double-check their cars, and greeting a few of the audiences. the half-blood racers had always been famous. especially leo. he was an automatic crowd favorite, for being one of the fastest, the one with the best car, and of course, the guy was attractive in a racing jacket.
âthere she is.â
jason laughed as he high-fived the [hair color] haired under the yellow helmet. leo raised a brow, âwho the hell?â he mumbled to himself, thinking it was just some other guy going to wreck his car on the track again. jason turned to leo, âoh leo, this is our special guest.â leo watched the stranger remove the helmet from their face,
â(name) (last name)?â his mouth hanged open at the sight of the girl. ânice to see you too lee.â the way that her hair fell out of her helmet and so gracefully on her shoulders sent him to the moon. she walked towards him, ruffling his curly hair with a smile. âi havenât seen you in ages!! look at you! finally taller than me!â she cackled, her one arm hugging her helmet, the other on her hip. (name) wore a yellow racing suit that matched her helmet.
âyou look..â leo trailed off, still shocked, his eyes glued to her as it was incapable of blinking. he shook off the thought, âi didnât know you raced.â he smiled. âiââ cut off by annabeth, she slinged her arm around (name), â(nickname)âs an amazing racer.â leo cocked a brow, the side of his lips twitching into a smirk. âamazing racer huh?â he tilted his head to her. (name) flushed, âi wouldnât say amazing. but i do love racing.â she beamed again, now hugging the helmet with both her hands.
the noise of what a horn would make echoed across vegas, âracers!â the mcâs voice. âoh titan, we gotta go.â jason spoke, quickly hopping in his own purple racecar, right behind leoâs. (name)âs car was beside the son of hepheastus, hers was yellow and white. âthey werenât kidding about the whole sunshine title thing weâre they?â leo teased, running his fingers through his hair as he slipped the helmet on and hopped in his car.
(name), letting out one final giggle, slipped inside. her helmet in place on her head, she pulled the visor up to get a good look on leoâs face through his window across her. she winked through her visor, âthey donât call me the sunshine racer for nothing, hotshot.â
đď¸ Ë*°ŕż
THE RACE felt like it lasted two seconds to both leo and (name). but really, it lasted about five laps, until someone had won.
and who won?
obviously (name).
âshe broke your streak?!â percy cackled, throwing his head back on the couch of the racersâ lounge. leo scoffed, tossing his helmet beside percy forcibly out of frustration. jason continued explaining the race to frank, as they sat across one another on the small table they shared. âleo was in the lead for about three of the lapsâ until! ho, ho, ho,â leo groaned softly grabbing a bottled water and chugging it down as he listened to jasonâs side of the story.
â(name) swooped! right beside him, totally catching all of us off guard. gods, sheâs crazy fast.â frankâs jaw dropped, the remaining take out in his mouth falling out. frank shot leo a look, âlisten, she lacks speed. thatâs for sure. what sheâs got is agility. iâm still the fastest on the track. of ANY track, for that matter. flames got nothing on that eye-sore of a car.â leo emphasized gulping down his water.
percy continued to laugh at leo, the water from his eyes now trailing down to his cheeks as he hugged his stomach, âCOME ON DUDE KNOCK IT OFF ITâS NOT THAT FUNNY!â leo threw a pillow at his face, only for percy to be quick enough to catch it. âwhen you think about it, it is. not only weâre you beaten by a girl, but the sunshine racer who you happen to be in love with for like, centuries.â leo huffed, âiâmâ not,â he scoffed, âin love with her.â he crossed his arms over his chest.
âoh yeah, very convincing.â jason leaned back on his chair. âyâall are assholes.â the boysâ racers lounge echoed with laughter as leopard walked out with a churning feeling in his stomach.
as soon as leo walked out, continuing his habit of running his fingers through his hair, he caught a glimpse of (name) fixing her car. he strolled over, sassily clearing his throat to get her attention. he could hear her giggle under the hood, âhi leo.â she greeted, keeping her head under to fix the engine. she immediately knew it was the curly-haired racer. âyou need a hot mechanicâs help with that?â he tried to play it off cool, looking away. she took the hood down to close it, âiâm okay. iâm a big tough girl.â she mocked a deeper voice, flexing her non-existent muscles. she laughed, leo smiled.
âi could hear the crowd cheer your name. fan favorite?â she asked, leaning her palms on the hood. leo psh-d, âi wouldnât say fan favorite. but yeah- yeah, i guess.â he teased cockily, âahh.. you know, iâm the fastest on the track, i got a nice car.. iâm good-looking, all in a days work.â he dusted off his shoulders with a smug smile. âbut of course.â she shot him a scrunched smile, wiping her hands off. âwhy now (name)?â he suddenly asked, âhm?â she hummed. âwhat do you mean?â she stopped her tracks.
âwhy start racing now? i heard you have a nice club back at camp with rach.â he shrugged. she smiled again, walking forwards to fix the collar of his jacket. âwanted to see whoâs the best racer. but we all know who it is.â she winked again, leo could feel his ears heat up, watching her walk away. âpfft, yeah. weâll see sunshine.â
sunshine.(name) . .
guess whoâs the new fastest on the track!!!
flamingleoval . .
buy me skittles and iâll admit it
đď¸ Ë*°࿠end of cp 1 . .
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one year with luke castellan
âł january 14 (again) featuring mr. d
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of apollo reader
word count: 4.1k
summary: you and luke have a great day, and mr. d remembers he is not getting paid enough for this
content: the caught kissing trope my beloved
notes: gifting you all a sunshine pov for the finale <3 for @luvieborealis this whole series was for u
The usually calm and serene arts and crafts cabin is rather tense today.
âLuke, please,â Annabeth begs, her eyes softened and her hands clasped together. Itâs the same trick sheâs been pulling ever since she first met him, the sad eyes that always make Luke feel guilty and give in. âGroverâs sick so he canât bring us, but Sallyâs making special blue blueberry muffins tonight. What kind of people would we be if we canceled?â
The guilt tripping works, sure, but Lukeâs a man whoâs made prior commitments. And as a guy with some big plans, these prior commitments are especially important.
âI really canât take you guys today, Iâm sorry.â
âWhy not?â Percy presses. He tilts his head at him, squinting and scrutinizing. âWhat are you doing today thatâs more important?â
Luke shrugs, trying for nonchalance. âIâm busy.â
You snicker at his side, adding another knot into your friendship bracelet.
Luke had dragged you away from your volleyball tournament just after lunch to teach him how to draw, and even though heâd given up after a couple of minutes and begged for you to do something else instead, heâd at least tried, which you think is admirable.
(Itâd gone a lot better than your attempt last week at teaching him to paint, at least. Heâd sat and watched as you worked the entire time and hadnât picked up his paintbrush once.)
Youâd ended up shifting over to bracelet making, a much simpler art. But the kids ambushed him about fifteen minutes ago, so his bracelet sits mostly unfinished in front of him.
âWhy are you being so mysterious?â you canât help but ask.
âPercyâs being nosy,â he says, gesturing at the kid like heâs not there. âI donât have to tell them anything if I donât want to.â
âScared of being teased by kids?â you ask, amusement creeping into your words. You look up at Percy and Annabeth, smiling. âMe and Luke were going to make plans for tonight.â
âOh,â they say in unison.
Though Annabeth doesnât seem too surprised, Percy is clearly a little shocked, a reaction you seem to get pretty often these days. Even though you and Luke have stopped bickering nearly as much as you used to, people look at you like youâve grown another head whenever they find out that the two of you are actually close now.
A little more than close, actually.
âWhat were you guys planning on doing?â Annabeth asks, not prying, just curious.
Percy must let his frustration get the best of him, because rather unhelpfully, he says, âProbably vandalize my cabin again.â
Luke gives him a flat look. âPercy. How many times am I gonna have to tell you that that wasnât me?â
He puts his hands up. âLook, Iâm just saying the timing was really convenientââ
âSpecial blue blueberry muffins sound really great,â you say, stopping Percy before he can start on this topic again.
Heâs still convinced Luke had something to do with the little bags of alive goldfish left all around Cabin Three, and has been pestering him for a confession ever since. Luke hadnât been the one to do itâyouâd both watched the Stolls hop in and out of one of the windows with the bags in their handsâbut Percy refuses to believe it could've been anyone but him.
You tie off the end of your bracelet and cut off the extra string while Luke shrugs next to you.
âThe muffins are great,â he admits, letting you fuss with his wrist so you can loop the bracelet around it. âBut we already have plans, so Iâm not going. And neither are they, I guess.â
The kids protest vehemently, but both of you ignore it, looking instead at the woven string around his wrist. Luke runs his opposite thumb over the chevron pattern before kissing the side of your face and mumbling out a thank you.
His bracelet for you has taken a little longer since heâs had to redo a few knots, but itâs still turning out very nicely. Heâs also not nearly as bad at bracelet making as he had claimed to be earlier, and you have the sneaking suspicion that he was just pretending to not know how so you would hold his hands while you showed him.
âAnyway,â you start. âMe and Luke didnât really have any real plans. So if he doesnât care, heâs all yours today.â
Percy and Annabeth burst into cheers, and you think for a second Percyâs about to bow down and thank you. Youâre awfully amused, but you turn to Luke and see the clear signs of panic in his eyes.
âThatâs not true,â he protests quickly, catching Annabethâs hand in mid-air when she tries to high-five Percy. âWe do have plans. She just forgot.â
You give him a weird look that he returns.
Youâd literally talked at length an hour ago about how you had no idea what you should do tonight, and here Luke is, lying to the kids about having plans.
He must not want to take them really bad.
âOh, yeah,â you say slowly, watching as the terror on Lukeâs face eases up. âMy bad, I forgot. We have that thing later.â
âYep,â he agrees, waving the kids away from the two of you. âWe have that thing. So itâs not even possible for either of us to take you.â
âYouâre kidding, right?â Annabeth huffs. âIt doesnât even seem like either of you know what the thing is.â
âBig plans, Annabeth,â he insists, getting up from his seat when neither of them stop looming over him like two dark clouds. He grabs them both by the back of their shirts and drags them towards the door, depositing them on the other side like theyâre nothing more than decorative furniture.
âCan you please just consider it?â she begs.
Luke leans against the doorway, looking up at the sky while he pretends like heâs thinking about it.
âFine. I might consider it. Now get out.â
She groans, giving him a mean glare. âSeriously? âI might consider itâ is basically a no, and you know it. Youâre not going to think about it.â
âIâm glad I didnât have to tell you that myself,â he says cheerily, giving her a sympathetic pat on her shoulder. âYouâre absolutely right.â
âYou wonât even think about it? Not even for your sister?â Percy tries, the both of them masters at the guilt card.
âI think sheâll survive another few weeks without a blueberry muffin.â
Annabeth crosses her arms, immediately forcing Luke into one of their quick conversation-arguments you always have trouble following.
Admittedly, you feel bad for them. As someone who used to argue with Luke on a daily basis, you are unfortunately very familiar with how stubborn he can be once heâs made up his mind.
Once, youâd argued over a stupid fact for an entire day because he refused to go back on his original opinion. Itâd been âthe principle of the thing,â apparently, and heâd argued and argued and argued even after youâd literally taken out an entire book to prove him wrong.
Percy would probably have to hold Luke at gunpoint before he agreed to skip out on your plans tonight, whether they were real or not.
âSorry, guys,â you say, giving them a sympathetic smile you hope they can see. âMaybe next time.â
All hope that mightâve been swimming in their eyes dies out immediately, and it makes you feel bad. The two of them grumble their entire way out of the cabin, huffing and complaining about how unfair Luke is.
When he kicks the door shut, he turns to you with a massive grin playing on his face. He practically dances all the way back to his seat, sitting down next to you with a relieved sigh.
You give him a look. âYou couldâve been nicer.â
He shrugs, focusing again on his bracelet. He looks pleased with how itâs turned out, a chain of sunflowers that heâll wrap around your wrist when heâs done.
âDonât worry. Theyâll get over it.â
â
Percy and Annabeth do not get over it.
You catch them talking to Mr. D on the porch of the Big Houseâpresumably about going into Manhattan by themselvesâand the conversation goes about exactly as youâd expect.
He laughs in their faces, and they walk away, dejected. When you see the look Percy gives Luke, you tell him itâs probably for the best that you both stay clear of any body of water for the near future.
And sometime after youâd left the arts and crafts cabin, youâd seen Annabeth by the volleyball courts. Youâd waved at her from across the grass, but sheâd done nothing but stare menacingly at you, even letting the volleyball hit the floor right in front of her.
âThe look she was giving me was scary! It felt like I was in a horror movie,â you complain to Luke out by the fields. âThose kids are haunting me.â
âYou serious?â He curls his sword around yours while youâre distracted and whips it into the dirt, the clatter of it kicking up dust. âYou didnât even do anything. I was the one who kicked them out.â
âI lied to them, though,â you huff, putting your hands on your hips. âDo you not feel bad? Theyâre always so excited coming back from Manhattan, and theyâve probably been looking forward to this all month. Percy probably just wanted to see his mom.â
Luke doesnât answer, too busy appreciating the disarm maneuver heâd just done. âWas that three hundred eight to three hundred nine?â
âLuke, I know for a fact you arenât counting our wins right now.â
âYep. Iâm not. Sorry, babe.â
He hands you your sword again, and you take it from him mindlessly, still thinking about the frown on their faces when Mr. D had laughed at them.
And you thought youâd been mean! Mr. D was a different kind of evil for laughing at them.
âHe isnât special for missing his mom,â Luke jokes, giving you a toothy grin. âHeâll be fine by tomorrow.â
It falls flat when you donât laugh.
He clears his throat. âLook, Sunshine, youâre too nice. Just cause theyâre kids doesnât mean you canât say no to them.â
âWe couldâve both gone with them,â you suggest. âAnd we wouldâve all gotten what we wanted. We didnât even have any actual plans, Luke. I canât help but feel bad.â
Realizing you actually do feel guilty about it, he sheathes his sword before dragging you closer. He even rubs soothing circles into your upper arms because itâs something that always seems to work on you, and your chest warms at how sweet he is.
âIâll talk to Mr. D later,â he offers. âIâll convince him to reschedule their trip when Groverâs feeling better, okay?â
âYou will?â
âOf course I would, if itâd make you feel better.â
âIt would,â you say honestly. âThank you, Luke. Youâre the best.â
âItâs no problem,â he answers, grinning. âBut, uhâŚâ
âBut?â
âI think my disarm from just now should still count towards my score.â
âYouâre still thinking about that?â you ask, and heâs quick to nod. âThat shouldnât have counted, I was distracted.â
âGotta pay better attention, then,â he chides.
Heâs smiling at you, his eyes lit up, and you try not to feel too bad when you pull his sword out from where itâs sheathed against his hip and hold it up to his neck.
âShould this count as my three-hundred tenth win, then?â you tease, watching realization bloom on his face. âCause you were distracted.â
It takes a second for realization to bloom on his face, but then he shakes his head, unable to stop himself from smiling.
âWe canât just count everything as a win, you know. We werenât even fighting.â
âI think I deserve it, though.â
âYou think so?â Luke takes another step closer to you, making you back upâright into the point of a dagger.
You pat your side with your free hand, expecting to feel your blade, but coming up empty.
âShould this count as my three-hundred ninth win?â Luke repeats in a bad imitation of your voice, and you canât help but laugh.
You slip his sword back into the spot at his hip while he puts your dagger back safely in the inside pocket of your jacket.
âI still have no clue how you manage to steal stuff from right under my nose,â you say while the two of you make your way back to the pavilion for dinner. Your hands brush against each other as you walk, your matching bracelets wrapped around both of your wrists.
Luke makes that face that tells you heâs about to make a stupid joke, and you almost laugh at how predictable his humor can be.
âLike the way I stole your heart?â the two of you say in unison.
The smirk flickers off his face. âHowâd you know I was about to say that?â
âI could feel it in my bones.â You link your hands together while the two of you head past the Big House. âI have a sixth sense for your jokes.â
âMaybe that means weâre both just really funny.â
âFunny? Thatâs not the word Iâd use toââ
Youâre pulled to an abrupt stop when Luke stops walking, your body jerking backwards where your hands are still connected.
âWait, I just realized I forgot something in here,â he says, nodding to your left. âDo you mind coming in with me? Iâll make it quick.â
The two of you are outside the arts and crafts cabin again, the curtains drawn shut over the windows and the lights outside the door turned off.
You shake your head. âCourse not.â
You were planning on making up a fake detour to spend an extra few minutes with him anyway, and now you donât even have to. Your fingers slip out of his grasp as you jog ahead, opening the door for him.
âLadies first,â you insist.
âFunny,â he says, following you up the steps.
âWhatâd you forget, anyway?â you ask, peering into the dark room. Itâs impossible to see anything past the threshold of the door, and it kind of freaks you out.
Luke leans against the opposite side of the doorframe, but he makes no move to go in. Heâs just smiling at you.
All he says is, âLadies first, I thought?â
You roll your eyes before stepping over the threshold. âHow chivalrous.â
With the sun long set by now, the cabin is pitch black, but behind the divider that splits the cabin into two sections, you see the brief flicker of candle light.
You feel along the wall for the light switch but find warmth instead â Lukeâs hand.
He links your hands together again as he shuts the door behind you, leaving the both of you in utter darkness.
The hair on the back of your neck stands up. You plant your feet, making him stumble slightly.
âLuke?â
âYeah?â
âDid you lure me here to murder me?â
He sputters behind you, and he spins you around to look at him despite there being no way he can see your face. âThe fuck?â
âThis feels like a horror movie. You do realize that, right?â
Luke guffaws. âNo, Iâm not here to murder you, are you insane?â
âThatâs good, then. I was worried. You wouldnât beat me in a fight.â
âMy three-hundred and nine wins say otherwise,â he quips, making sure to emphasize the fake win heâs added to his real score. âAnd hey, if I was a murderer, I would at least knock you unconscious first. Couldnât risk my pretty victim running away, obviously.â
You shove him away from you as you move closer to the light source. âHilarious.â
âI really do try.â
You see one candle and then two, lighting up the way to whatever is on the other side of the wall. You almost turn back to look at him before remembering the whole pitch black thing, so you just continue following the path made of tealights.
When you turn the corner, you find that all of the candles are surrounding something sitting oddly in the center of the floor. Luke lets go of you then, and you crouch down and crack the top of it open.
Itâs a basket, you realize. And at the bottom of it isâŚ
Food.
Your favorite foods to be exact. Theyâre arranged so gorgeously you almost donât want to touch anything, but the light shifts and you catch sight of the sunflowers tucked into the bottom of the basket.
It had taken an embarrassingly long time, but you finally realize what this all is.
Luke wasnât trying to murder youâhe was going to take you out on another date.
âDid you do all this for me?â you ask, your voice wavering.
You can hear the smile in his voice when he says, âYou think I led you here just for fun? I have the rest set up out by the beach.â
âI thought you were trying to freak me out with the dark room,â you admit, setting the basket down as carefully as you can.
Luke already has his hands outstretched for you, and you drag him closer by the front of his shirt to pull him into a long kiss.
You remember distantly Clarisse complaining about how Luke was good at absolutely everything he does, and youâre happy to say that sheâs absolutely right.
Luke is a great friend, a great fighter, and a great kisser. His hands thread through your hair as the two of you stumble around the room for the nearest solid object, finally finding a table that heâs quick to help you on top of.
Almost immediately heâs pulling you into another kiss, but you try your best to get some words out.
âThis is the sweetest thing anyoneâs ever done for me,â you rush out. Heâs standing kindly between your legs and is at the perfect height for you to smother in affection.
ââm glad,â he mumbles, running a hand down your sides. âSorry I scared you.â
âThatâs okayâmmphâI wasââ
Luke backs up for just a second, both of his hands on either sides of your face.
âSunshine,â he says firmly.
âYeah?â
âPlease stop talking.â
âWait, wait, wait!â you protest, swerving out of his way. âI have one more thing.â
He sighs. âMake it quick, please.â
âIs this why you refused to take Percy and Annabeth to his momâs house?â
He gives you a look. âYouâre still thinking about that?â
âYes. Now answer.â
Luke kisses your cheek, laughing softly to himself. âThen yes. Surprise.â
He presses the next few kisses of his into the grin on your face, but he doesnât seem to mind your smiling.
For a second, you almost forget about the picnic heâs prepared, too busy thinking about how cute he looks in his long sleeved shirt and how warm his arms are. You hadnât expected this at all, but you honestly wouldâve still been happy even if there was no picnic at all. You wouldâve been perfectly fine if Luke had just dragged you into a dark, scary cabin to makeout with him.
He sighs against your lips when you throw your arms around his shoulders, and you shiver when he tilts his head to kiss you even harder.
Youâd been a little spooked earlier, but the most frightening part of the night has to be when the overhead lights go on, filling the entire room with the harsh fluorescents.
âAlright, showâs over,â a very familiar voice groans. âOh, great. Itâs you two?â
Luke squints in the direction of the door, both of your eyes still adjusting to the harsh change in lighting.
âHey, Mr. D,â Luke says weakly.
Your face heats up, and you pointedly look anywhere but in the godâs direction. Youâd known it was him the second heâd opened his mouth, but itâs somehow worse now that Lukeâs confirmed it out loud.
You glance back at the window behind you and wonder if Mr. D would chase you if you made a run for it.
Luke helps you off the table and you fix the collar of his shirt for him, bracing yourself for your camp directorâs approach.
âI think I liked it better when you two were at each other's throats in the violent way,â he complains, completely unamused. âPlease go back to trying to kill each other every other day.â
âSorry, youâuh. Had to walk in on that, sir,â Luke answers, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence.
You arenât quite sure what would happen if you opened your mouth to speak and donât really want to find out. You look up at the man and see he has his nose turned up at you two, disgusted.
âYou demigods get braver and braver each year,â he says, but he clearly does not mean it in a good way. âAt least those troublemakers from a few years ago were smart enough to be secretive about breaking camp rules. And yet here you two are, in a rec room after hours, with all of the lights on! And you didnât even lock the door!â
You and Luke meet eyes for a very quick and very confused second.
âYou were the one whoââ
Mr. D huffs. âAre you going to say something, at least?â he demands, crossing his arms over his athletic jacket.
You hesitate before responding. âWeâre sorry?â
âWe wonât do it again.â Luke suggests.
The god sighs, exhausted. He rubs at his temples furiously. âI donât even know what Iâm going to do with you two. If only those curfew harpies ate you before I got here.â
âItâs not after curfew,â you say unhelpfully.
The face Mr. D makes at you is definitely classified as a scowl.
âChiron is so much better at these than I am,â he complains, like this isnât his job. Already moving towards the door, he gestures vaguely to the space around you and says, âGet rid of this.â
You and Luke look at each other again, stunned.
âThatâs it?â Luke asks before he can stop himself.
You were honestly thinking the same thing. Compared to Chiron, Mr. D is known for doling out the more unfortunate punishments. Youâre surprised he hasnât already thrown you both into the woods with nothing but the clothes on your back, but you at least still know that talking back will make it worse, so you hit Lukeâs shoulder and gesture for him to shut up.
Mr. D has a foot out the door already, a hand pressed to his eyes like heâs been blinded. âJust clean up. And then get out of my sight. Preferably forever.â
The door slams shut behind him, and thereâs so much force behind it that it sends papers on a nearby table fluttering into the air.
Itâs quiet in the cabin for a solid thirty seconds, with nothing but your breathing as a sign of life. Youâre both standing unnaturally still.
âLuke,â you start slowly, unsure what to say.
Almost immediately, he erupts into laughter next to you, the sound echoing across the room and up to Olympus itself, probably. Youâre absolutely mortified, but his joy is so infectious that you canât help the shocked laugh that forces its way from your chest.
âI can not believe Mr. D had to walk in on that.â
He shrugs. âHe couldâve walked in on worse.â
You snap your neck up at him. âLuke.â
âWhat? Itâs the truth!â
You wrap your arms around one of his and press your burning face into his sleeve. âI donât think Iâm letting you kiss me ever again.â
âYou donât mean that,â he says, the smile on his face no doubt turning smug.
(Heâs absolutely right.)
âI mean it, you asshole. Youâll be lucky if I ever even look at you again.â
âHow long do you think you could go without talking to me?â Luke asks, pretending to think about it.
Both of you already know the answer: Not very long.
âIâd be fine,â you say, your voice wavering with the force of your smile. He runs his hands up your sides, drawing laughter from your throat. âYouâd probably go crazy, though. Wind up in the infirmary with an incurable sickness.â
âProbably.â He leans in close to smatter kisses over your face, covering your cheeks with proof of his affection. âA sickness only cured with a true loveâs kiss, I think.â
You make a face, but the adoration there is undeniable. âThatâs dumb.â
Luke clears his throat dramatically, looking awfully confused. His next words are interrupted by his fake coughing.
âOh no,â he says, eyes wide.
Youâre grinning when you say, âYouâre ridiculous.â
âI think the sickness mightâve already started.â
You put the back of your hand to his forehead, feeling for warmth. âYou know what?â
âWhat?â
âI think so too.â
âI need medical attention,â he says through his smile. âIf only there was an insanely hot nurse around to save me from this diseaseââ
You slide your hands into his hair so you can shut him up with a kiss, because you can do that now.
Because itâs January 14, which means youâve been dating for three months, and youâre free to kiss Luke Castellan whenever youâd like.
Luke hums against your lips, drawing you deeper into his arms.
Youâll have to thank the gods that he was patient enough to play the long game.
notes: and itâs over omg </3 i had such a great time writing for sunshine and luke they are my everything!! its so bittersweet letting them go but thank you all so much for sticking around for this series :) i hope u enjoyed the finale and my apologies for how long it took lolol
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OHHH YES
â¡ ŕź* god, it's brutal out here !
pairing â
jock!luke castellan x drum major!reader
synopsis â
the one where the football team hasnât won a game in a nearly a decade. luke castellan changes some things. (4k)
content â
no pronouns used for reader, bad teenager humor, inaccuracies bc i am not a band kid, very vague smau, not proofread, best viewed on mobile
notes â
when i tell u that i switched writing styles for this, jubi and iss17 r so different. pls enjoy the crack tho, bc frankly, i think im hilarious
series masterlist
Opinion | Football team reaps the rewards it does not deserve
Heralds Vol. 77, Issue 1
Zeus City High Schoolâs VAPA groups have won more championships that the football team ever has. Just last school year, marching band took sweepstakes in nearly every round, placing first in regionals and second in nationals. Other groups such as cheer, choir, and color guard also took competitions by storm, setting the highest win rate in the history of the high school.
However, their efforts arenât as recognized as the football team, even though ZCHS hasnât won a single game in a decade. Meanwhile, performing arts struggles with the leftovers of the football teamâs funding.
âItâs really unfair and discouraging,â freshman Percy Jackson provided in a statement. âItâs my first year in band and I had to duct tape my broken snare harness because we donât have money for new ones. Look, the football team got new equipment and a locker room renovation. My recycled uniform smells like [âŚ] and they get custom practice jerseys.â
Jacksonâs sentiment is shared widely among the student body associated with VAPA. Members such as junior Miranda Gardener feel that their passions are put aside for a sport that contributes nothing to the school other than spirit.
âBeing in color guard is stressful, especially because a lot of us take hard classes, too,â said Gardener. âI love performing, but Iâve honestly thought about not trying out again because we work hard for nothing, and the people who barely work get everything.â
The administration office and football team have not reached out in response to inquiries.
Itâs around that time of year where you could walk out of the classroom and see four people blowing their nose down the hall and one person pretending to use the bathroom but really just searching up the answers to a test.
Luke Castellan is one of them. Your fingers are picking at the edge of the hall pass, a click click against the plastic that echoes hollow in the hall.
He hears you coming, back curled in the position heâs taken over the water fountain. Castellan gives you a cursory glance, goes back to drinking, and then looks at you again. You walk faster.
Double-take, his spine unfurls to stand upright, wrist wiping away the droplets on his mouth.
âSo I read your article,â he says right as you cross tangent paths. He leans against the wall, pseudo-casual, hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans. âJust wanna let you know that footballâs definitely gonna get a win this seaâyour pass is a toilet seat?â
Your face burns, heat licking from your neck to forehead. Your eyes flick to a deflated rubber duck sitting atop the fountainâs porcelain edge, the tail of which is punched out and threaded with a tag that reads HALL PASS.
âAnd yours is a bath toy?â
Red blooms over the high of Castellanâs cheeks, and he snatches the duck off the fountain, hiding it behind his back.
âShut up,â he grits, the bath toy making an airy sound in his tightening fingers. âWho even let you write that article anyway?â
âIâm the editor-in-chief,â you say, smug-like, shrugging like itâs nothing. You take a look at his face, the downward draw of his brown and the brutal set of his mouth.
Castellanâs exhale comes out from his nostrils in a hiss, jaw feathering.
âWeâll win this season,â he says, low, quiet. Heâs so close that you can almost see something wading in the dark, inky pool of his pupil. âIâm making sure of it.â
( How did you go from casual conversation to this? )
âIs that on or off the record?â Your grin could be classified as shit-eating, mouth splitting too wide and eyes curving too crescent. Castellan sneers and pushes off the wall, jostling his tense shoulder with yours.
âSo fucking annoying,â you hear him hissing as he walks away. You laugh in a huff, watching his wound-up back shrink in the distance.
What an asshole.
[ IMAGE: A snapshot of Percy Jackson from an up-down angle with the zoom set to 0.5x. The flash is on, washing his skin, hair, and eyes pale. The background is dark, save for a group of teens behind the curve of his cheek in ugly orange band uniforms and black slacks. ]
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perciusjakcsn not even cooked WE R GRILLED đ¨ đ¸Â @.travstole
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majmajmaj ur gna be well done xtra crispy if u forget to count those fucking rests again,,, đ
âł perciusjakcsn PLZ HAVE MERCY SARGE
âł majmajmaj DRUM MAJOR NOT DRUM SARGEANT PETER đđđ
âł perciusjakcsn JUSTICE 4 PERCY đđ
groovewood did u srsly just replace me as cameraman DUDE đ
âAre we actually incapableââ The band continues to push each other around, the noise of nearly a hundred mouths in motion reaching an all-time high. ââof lining the fuck up?â
Charlesâ wide, orange-fitted frame sidles up next to you, a megaphone in hand. You take the device in silent thanks, switching it on and cringing at the feedback.
You raise the megaphone to your mouth. âATTENTION!â
Itâs a mad dash into formation, teens in orange scrambling to their places. Someone yelps when a tuba swings in a wide arc above their head. A flutist trips over a saxophone. Drumline frantically assembles, sliding clumsily into harnesses and setting off more than two cymbal crashes.
âWhat a goddamn clown show.â Mr. D, absentee band director, walks up behind you and Charles, scowling at the mess. He takes a swig from the Coke can thatâs practically glued to his hand before snatching the megaphone. âPETER JOHNSON, YOUR HARNESS IS LOOSE. LEE VASQUEZ, WRONG SECTION. COLE STALIN, IF I HEAR CARELESS WHISPER ONE MORE TIME, I WILL THROTTLEââ
From the crowd, Connor Stollâs face twists in pseudo-confusion, hands coming up to pat at his ears and shrugging. A laugh ripples through the ranks.
Mr. D looks like heâs going to have a stroke with the way his expression pinches, sour. Mouth crumpled in on itself like the opening of a drawstring bag, eyes glaring narrow and beard bristling.
You take the megaphone back gingerly, dialing down the volume with a grimace. âAlright, first prelim game of the season, weâre against our one-sided rivals, Jupiter High.â
The band groans. Mr. D wanders off elsewhere.
âIâm not supposed to say this, but we are definitely losing. Even so, please do not boo if our team gets a touchdown. Donât laugh if you hear something demeaning from the other team. Andâclarinetsâit is absolutely unacceptable to be bribed by Travis and burst into Squidwardâs theme mid-play.â
Travis lets out a squawk of indignation, the shriek of it echoing around the side of the field. Charles holds out his hand for the megaphone, which you pass over.
He clears his throat. âThank you, major. UhâJupiter is one hundred percent going to decimate us sports-wise, but weâre better than them in VAPA and test scores. Please donât tarnish our reputation as regional champions, I donât think I can survive that.â
Short and sweet, he sets down the device and gestures for the band to start marching around the track for warm-ups. You follow the path of the oval, feet tracing the white running lines, dust running over your shoe prints.
At the far side of the field is a giant inflatable centaur, the breakaway banner held between its feet. Itâs a football thing for the players to run out at the beginning of the game. Except, youâre pretty sure that most schools do not run out under the legs of a stupidly expensive, balloon-ified mascot.
The football team is gathered behind the banner, hiding under the shadowed belly of the centaur. Some players are stretching, drinking water, closing their eyes. There are cheerleaders milling around, making small talk with glossy smiles.
Luke Castellan catches your eye over a girlâs shoulder. You recognize her, the slight of her build and the curl to her honeyed hair and most of all, the pep flags in her hands. Charles stiffens from beside you, back going rod-like, chest puffing out.
Silena Beauregard turns, waving cluelessly, innocently. Your fellow drum major nearly stumbles. Youâand half the bandâgive Castellan an downturned thumb when she turns away. Someone from the trombones plays a limp womp-womp.
Castellan looks mortified, like heâs going to dig a hole for himself and die in it.
( If so, good riddance. )
[ VIDEO: A shaky clip from the lit-up bleachers at Zeus City High Schoolâs football field. The camera pans over the heads of the seated marching band, a sea of half-asleep teens in orange, instruments drooping with the nodding of their heads.
The spectators groan, the commentator remarking that Sherman Yang has missed yet another throw. Someone from the rival side hollers loudlyâZeus City? More like Zeus Shitty!âto which their lavender-hued cheerleaders titter, sending a ripple of amusement echoing through the opposite bleachers swathed in purple.
A majority of the ZCHS marching band cackle and jeer. The camera zooms in on the two drum majors standing upfront. Youâre shaking your head and thumbing the space between your brows. Charles Beckendorf wears the face of saddened disappointment. ]
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travstole đŹđŹ
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majmajmaj reporting this to d, no phones on the field tf??
âł travstole snitch much??
âł majmajmaj what was it? ah, âdie graecus scumâ - JHS octavian, most definitely
conmanstole poor becky d,,,
âł perciusjakcsn âpoor becky dâ as if ur not the reason y he has premature wrinkles đŤľđ¤¨
The classroom is cold-hued, almost sterile under the cheap incandescent lights. Everything is blueish, backlit by the evening as it rolls over the horizon. You sigh when the ligaments in your neck rub just right to pop the bubbles between your bones. The door creaks, a tall figure, sticky with shadows, stepping in right before you try to move on to cracking you knuckles.
You almost donât recognize him in that soft-looking sweater, a pair of black frames propped over the bridge of his nose. Castellan settles into the chair at the opposite ledge of the desk, the legs straining against the floor in an ear-itching scrape when he scoots closer.
âHey there,â he says, borderline breathless, to which you give him a narrow look. He gives you a quick grin in return as he fumbles with his laptop; you catch a deep etch to his smile lines at the corners of his mouth before they disappear. âSo, Iâm just going to ask you a few questions about stuff like band, Heralds, school life.â
âThis feels like an interrogation,â you tell him, unimpressed, âinstead of something for yearbook. Are you sure you arenât trying to get me arrested? If so, I have the right to remain silent.â
âNo, just yearbook. Purely professional.â The other boy laughs, the sound of it rattling behind his ribs. It sends something spiraling down your stomach, like a marble run made with your intestines. âAbout last week, in the hallwayâI know itâs not an excuse, but I was going through some stuff. So, sorry about that.â
He slides his phone between the two of you, the glossy screen emblazoned with a red button waiting to be pressed. Castellan sweeps out his hand in offering, palm-up.
You click the button, the first waves of sound appearing on the pixels in zig-zags.
âWhat is your name and the extracurriculars you partake in?â Castellan asks, even though he should know, because youâve gone to the same school for years. You tell him, and he tests it in his mouth, feeling the weight of it around his tongue like itâs the first time heâs heard of it. The marble run of your insides starts to roll faster. âCool. Iâm Lukeâfootball, volleyball, and obviously yearbook.â
âI know.â
It falls quiet for a moment, the snick of keys pressed into their beds being the only thing filling the silence. âOkay,â he says, leaning back in his chair. âHowâs it like being a Heralder? Any notable experiences?â
You keep your answers short and sweet, easy for damage control. âItâs basically a free period. We print every three weeks, so I have plenty of time to write and format the spreads.â
âAnd off the record?â he asks, a small grin sewn over his face. You think you have an idea of what heâs trying to do.
âItâs peachy.â
He tuts, a snick of the tongue. The laptop heâs typing on is drenched in cold light too, the screen reflecting onto the lenses of his glasses, something blue-gray in the glassiness of them. âAnd what about band? I remember you wrote something about VAPA kids having a hard time with balancing their schedules.â
âI didnât write that,â you remind him, a near snap to your words. âIt was a quote from Miranda Gardener.â
âBut you agreed with her,â Castellan counters. âOtherwise you wouldnât have put it in your article.â
Conceding, âFine. The actual band period start at seven-thirty during zeroâwe use that time to practice songsâand after school, we all head out to the field for drills from five to nine.â
âHow do you have time to do homework?â
âI said Heralds was a free period, didnât I?â
He laughs, the sound of it a little hollow with the way heâs fully concentrated on his laptop. âYou did. Okay, moving onâfavorite school snack?â
âCup noodles from the teacherâs room.â
Castellan makes a confused face. âUh, favorite class?â
âObviously band.â
âWorst class?â
You think about it for a moment. âStats.â
He smiles in agreement, eyes going crescent. âFirst choice of college?â
âAnything but an Ivy.â
Castellan shakes his head, chuckling.
You wait for a minute, watching his screen go by through the surface of his glasses. Castellanâs eyelashes arenât long, but theyâre thick and heavy. His eyes are a mid-toned brown, just darker than hazel. Like fresh-turned dirt. Or milk chocolate brownies. Orâ
He hasnât asked anything in a while. You cough awkwardly. âAm I free to go?â
Castellan looks like there are words fighting on his tongue, fingers carding through his messy curls. His lips are blushed, almost a bruise with the way theyâre so damn red. You think about Charles. And then Silena. How Castellan had walked into the classroom breathless.
You know that you shouldnât assume, but youâre going to assume.
âNever mind, donât answer that.â You make a show of checking your phone, retinas seared with the sudden brightness of the screen. âMr. D needs me on the field. Connor might be starting another riot with the saxes.â
âYea,â he says tightly, âgo ahead.â
TO: becky d
(19:35) so.
(19:35) not 100 percent sure but i think silena and castellan
(19:36) yk what ill ask her during p1 tmrw
FROM: becky d
(21:58) NO??
(22:10) SARGE PLS TURN OFF DND đ
(22:11) not even cooked im deep fried đ
TO: becky d
(08:45) so funny story i was on dnd until p1 and
(08:46) LMAOO DID U REALLY JST CALL ME SARGE CHARLES đ
(08:46) but srsly why didnt you yell at me during 0 we coulda avoided this,,,,
(08:47) btw i didnt ask her she was talking to drew tanaka abt some other guy that def wasnt luke đ
FROM: perciusjakcsn
(11:38) hey sarge do u know how to find annabeth
(11:39) i need her to explain the crab cycle. preferably before p5
TO: perciusjaksn
(12:34) * Major, not Sarge
(12:34) ** Krebs cycle
(12:35) This is Annabeth. To paraphrase Khan Academy, the Krebs cycle describes a chain of reactions in the mitochondria to produce energy in living cells through cellular respiration. I wonât go through the details because the reactants and products are not on the test, and neither is the order in which the reactions proceed. If you have any more questions, my username is âanniebethcâ.
Annabeth stabs her spork into her bag of salad, the flimsy plastic warping and crinkling as she draws out another mouthful of lettuce.
âSo,â you start, idly twirling your own spork as you read the message she sent through your phone, âgiving hints about the test? That could be considered cheating.â
Her cheek dips, held captive between her teeth. âItâs nothing.â
You give her a suspicious look. âAnd when Connor asked you about glucose and you told him to fuck off, that was also nothing?â
The girlâs look is withering as she chews her lunch slowly. You hold up your hands in surrender, letting go of the topic.
Annabethâs gaze catches something behind you. You follow the line of her sight, tracing it along the lunch shelter and landing on Castellan. Heâs got a laugh tremoring in his shoulders, grinning at something a girlâSilena againâis telling him. You whip your head back to see Annabethâs eyes go fuzzy and sparkling.
âWhat?â she asks, noticing your twisted face.
âNothing,â you huff. âBut, uhâPercyâs a good guy.â
The girl squints, bewildered. âWhatâI donât like Luke. Weâre neighbors, so itâs weird.â
Neighbors?
âWeâre halfway through the semester and youâre telling me now that Public Enemy Number One lives next to you?â
âHeâs only Public Enemy Number One to band.â
Emphatically, âWhich you are a flutist of?â
A lunch tray clatters onto your table, Travis sliding onto the bench and joined by Charles. The Stoll boy cracks his wrists, the pop of air loud even over the chatter of the shelter.
Charles peels open his school lunch, cringing at the clumpy mac salad sitting in the bowl. He looks over at your food, eyes tracing the outline of the plastic cup and watching the steam escape over the lip.
âWhere the hell did you get instant noodles from?â blurts Travis. You tap a half-empty thermos in the pocket of your backpack.
âAsk Clarisse nicely and her dadâll get it from the teacherâs lounge.â
Travis gives you a narrow look. It wouldâve been almost threatening if his eyes werenât occasionally glancing at your noodles.
âHow nicely?â
âSix dollars.â
The old Stoll turns to Charles, irises sparkling, wide, expectantâa poor attempt to make puppy eyes at your fellow drum major. Charles sighs, fingers digging through his backpack to return with a twenty.
âAh,â he warns right as Travis reaches for the money. âTwo noodles, one for each of us. And then youâll go to the vending machine for chips and a soda. No more, no less.â
Travis nods eagerly, snatching the bill and running off. You watch his back as he leaves; he nearly topples Luke Castellan in his excited haste.
âYou know thatâs a scam, right?â Annabeth's voice brings you back to the present. Sheâs got her brows quirked as Charles shuts the lid to his mac salad.
âItâs better than this.â He holds up a bag of damp baby carrots and cringes. It is at this moment that you know what your next article will be about.
[ IMAGE: Luke Castellan posing in semi-formal dress, standing in a dark classroom. The photo looks like itâs been taken on a digital camera, nostalgic and slightly grainy, bright spots blooming at the center. Heâs got a fitted white button up and a pair of neat, pressed slacks on. His tie is black, rumpled, the knot loosened around his neck. Over his shoulders is a slouchy pastel orange cardigan with the equestrian mascot of ZCHS sewn into the breast.
His head is turned, showing his sharp side profile. Lukeâs face is pensive, one hand in his pocket and the other at rest, fingers laid over his thigh. There are a pair of computer glasses sliding dangerously down his nose. ]
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lukestellans âcause we never go out of style
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luvvbeaus đĽđĽđĽ
âł tankadreww men who listen to tay >>
âł conmanstole @.majmajmaj aint no way ppl actually find him hot đ¤Łđ¤Ł
anniebethc You knotted your tie backwards, Luke.
âł lukestellans ask ur dad to help me pls đ
You donât get to write your article about how shitty the school lunch is. Instead, you get assigned to the homecoming game, scribbling out lede after mediocre lede onto the reporterâs notebook balanced in your palm, the paper of which scrubs uncomfortably against your gloves.
âThis is probably the highest score Iâve seen on that board,â comments Charles, fiddling with the seam of his uniform. âAnother touchdown and weâd actually win our first game in ten years.â
âThere are six seconds left,â you say, glancing at the clock. Youâre starting to sound like Annabeth when you say, âItâs pretty close too. The likelihood of an actual win is so low thatââ
The rest of your words are swallowed by the commentator.
AND THATâS LUKE CASTELLAN RUNNING INTO THE END ZONE, HE CATCHES THE BALLâTOUCHDOWN FOR ZEUS CITY!
You jump at the roar that engulfs your side of the bleachers, parents and students and alumni rising in a tidal wave of celebration.
The cheerleaders jump and scream, pep flags dancing in the air, pompoms glittering. People are hugging, cheering. You even see a grandma shed tears and kiss a toddler on the cheek.
âWhat the fuck.â Nevertheless, youâre compelled to turn and face the music, raising your hands and signaling for your bandmates to play the fight song.
Luke Castellan runs a victory lap, zipping around the field in his ugly, bright orange jersey, arms thrust skyward in celebration. You think that the big, taunting 11 painted on his back will haunt you for the rest of your days.
His pace peters out by the time he reaches the stands, giving sweaty, full-bodied hugs to whoeverâs closest to him in his conquest. You frown when he strolls along the stands, helmet pulled off and hanging from his fingers.
Heâs all damp, curls plastered to his forehead and sweat beading over his brow. His breaths come out as icy puffs in the mid-October air, an exhausted blush blooming red over his cheeks, eyes glassed over, lips bruised and chest straining for air.
Castellan points at nothing in particular, angling his finger at the bleachers with a winning smile. A number of girls giggleâeven color guardâand many pull out their phones to snap pictures of him.
Heâs looking straight through you, though. Like he has something vengeful to prove. The floodlights are blinding, a glimmering sheen painted over the player.
You frown, brows drawing together furious, mouth pinched. Castellan sneers back and turns away.
And then, your journalism advisor comes up to Castellan with a dark-haired woman. The teen hugs the woman but ignores the man, bitter.
Frankly, youâve never been able to put your finger on it until now, why Mr. Hermes had seemed so familiar to you. Now you can see it.
Luke Castellan looks very much like his mother, same eyes and lips. Bony shoulders, full face, straight and dark brows. Heâs got the same arrow-like nose as Hermes, however, the same inky black hair.
He turns for one last look at the emptying stands. Behind you, your bandmates begin to pack up, carrying their instruments down the bleachers.
Youâre the one offering a sneer now, though you doubt he can see it from this far. Luke tilts his head with a furtive smile and you lose sight of him when he ducks out into the parking lot.
You look down at your reporterâs notebook, the scratched-out ledes and the Heralds logo printed at the top.
Youâre fucked.
p.s. â
i moved around some canon ages to better fit the story if ur wondering why luke is 17/18 while percabeth r like 13/14,,,, alsoâthe inclusion of articles and social media was inspired by phanaticsâ big reputations on ao3, aka one of my fav slash fics (pls note that there r some spicy scenes tho)!!
sharing is caring, pls also consider leaving nice thoughts ââ
á˘..á˘â ᥣđŠ
luke tags (open); @melllinaa @amortencjja @niktwazny303 @arsonnaire @ma1dita @m00ng4z3r @saltair-and-palemoonlight @witch-lemon
Š klineinie 2024 â do not plagiarize, translate, or use ANY works to train ai
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we need more hockey and spidey luke đđ pls and ty
OOHHH TRUST ME IM TRYING, recently coming up with plots have been TOUGH so if you have any specific plot ideas plsss send requestsâ¤ď¸â¤ď¸
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this is so cutsie patootsie i love it
FEIGNING FOR YA
ââ ٠⤠٠ââ¡ ⢠ââ ٠⤠٠ââ ⢠¡ ââ ٠⤠٠ââ
CHAPTER 2
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: the first signs of acknowledgement from your family about your relationship and planning andâŚLuke is a good fake boyfriend!
warnings: not proofread! slow burn, college au, smau, fake dating to dating, cursing, clarisse x chris, aged up! pjo charcters, yn is older sister figure to percy, luke and thalia are older sibling figures to annabeth, drinking
a/n: inspired by charlieâs recent boxing photos! ik it may be a little choppy, but i wanted to put smthg out there before i go on my trip. comments and feedbacks about writing are much appreciated!
series list | next
ââ ٠⤠٠ââ¡ ⢠ââ ٠⤠٠ââ ⢠¡ ââ ٠⤠٠ââ
Ding!
A passive aggressive text shows up on your lock screen from Aunt Shelley. You were out with Silena, Clarisse and Thalia when the first signs of acknowledgment of your new relationship shows up.
The photo of your friend group covered by (now) two texts from Aunt Shelley:
Aunt Shelley
I wish you would tell us about this boy of yours before announcing it to the whole world.
3m ago
Kidding! He seems lovely.
1m ago
She was not kidding.
You sent back a short text, making up some excuse about why you havenât said anything. Sure, you hard-launched the ârelationshipâ intending for your family to see, but that backfired. Kind of.
Most of them didnât care about social media yet they insisted on following you when you made an account.
Aunt Shelley
Tell him to buy brighter clothes for Easter!
now
At least they didnât seem to recognize Lukeâs mop of curls. Luke has only been to your house once in high school in freshman year. Well, Luke had matured since then and he did gain some meat on his bones. You wouldnât blame them if they didnât recognize him.
âTheir reactions will be funnier when I introduce myself.â Luke mumbled with closed eyes. An arm wrapped around you abdomen. His thumb rubbing your side. Cheek pressed against your shoulder as he listened to you.
He insisted on taking a nap at your dorm to strengthen the image of your faux relationship, totally not because he was escaping his fratâs latest activities. It was something like a date auction or car wash.
âDo you plan on listening to my Aunt?â You asked, referring to Lukeâs closet.
âFuck, no.â Luke answered with ease.
âWill you at least be civil?â You asked and nudged your shoulder against his head.
Luke picked up his head and looked at you. âWeâre supposed to be rebelling. Pissing off your parents for being judgy and shitty and what not.â
Honestly, you were hesitant on ârebellingâ. Sure, it was just bringing Luke over and dating him because your parents hate him. But, you didnât want your parents to hate you for being disrespectful nor rude.
Luke noticed your hesitation. He sighed through his nose. âFine. Iâll play nice.â He laid his head back on your shoulder. âBut you owe me take out if the food is bad over there.â
Believe it or not, Luke had become more docile. His touch more gentle and caring. His pocket always had chapstick now that he had a âgirlfriendâ again. Was he always like this with his other girlfriends?
You been there everytime Luke was in and out of relationships, but you never seen how he acted with his significant others.
And thankfully, being in a fake relationship with Luke was quite easy. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands. It was practically the normal platonic chemistry, just add cheek kisses, holding hands and flirting. No butterflies appeared nor hands got sweaty around him.
Perfect.
Because thinking about your best friend in romantic sense was the wrong pathway to go. Itâs not like you have, justâŚthink about all the movies and books. Usually they never ended well (you think).
âCharlie knows I called it. I knew it!â Silena exaggerated pridefully. Both of you were walking to your Art History Class. âThe way you guys would look at each other andâgoshâŚI still canât believe it.â
You laughed at your friendâs delusional nature. You canât exactly pinpoint a time when Luke and you gave each other a look before this contract, but whatever helps Silena sleep at night.
The two of you sit at your usual seats and wait for the rest of the students to trickle in.
Ding!
Mom
Your father and I are very excited to meet this new boyfriend of yours!
now
You wondered if she remembered Luke. He did leave an impression on her. The first time Luke met your mother, he was a little excited and rowdy because you and him were going to stream a new movie that left theaters.
Your mother hated when the quiet in the house was broken when Luke and you were excitingly talking. âYouâre like a fly, disrupting this environment.â She scoffed from the dining room and went upstairs to her room.
Safe to say, you hung out at Lukeâs house from that day forward (you just gave him your Netflix password). Thankfully, Luke didnât feel too hurt.
âOh! I know.â Silena placed her notebook on the table. A suggestive grin on her face. âThereâs this party we can go to and celebrate you lovebirds!â
âSilena, thatâs not really necessaryââ
âYou gotta see it for yourself though!â
âSee what?â
âThat twinkle in their eyes.â
âWhat?â
The professor entered the lecture hall and began the lesson on art from the transcendentalist period. Twinkle? What twinkle? Like the stuff that romance novels describe when a character falls in love? Come on, that canât be real.
âLike romance book twinkle?â You leaned over and whispered to Selene. She smiled knowing she had you hooked. Her pencil moved as she talked.
âLike when you get dressed for a party or a date andâŚandâŚâ She tore her eyes away from you to look if she spelled a word right in her notes. ââŚthey get that first look and their eyes light up like youâre their whole world.â
Your professor called you and Silena out for talking and the both of you quickly write down the notes. Though you both continue the conversation.
âListen, our friend group doesnât have to go party or go to a bar. Just suggest a date with Luke tonight and watch his eyes when youâre in your date night outfit.â Silena and you walk to the gym, scanning your ID and going through the turnstiles.
You look at your phone again.
Luke<3
boxing with beckendorf
13m ago
Silena and you walked towards the destination. The familiar black compression shirt and mop of chocolate curls appearing in your field of vision.
Beckendorf was spotting Luke as he hit the punching bag in calculated movements. He shifted his weight between his two feet and with laser focus the material of the worn out glove made contact. Beckendorf grunted quietly. Luke could pack a punch.
It was kinda hot.
âCharlie!â Silena disrupted the practice to go hug her sweaty boyfriend. Luke and him mustâve have been taken turns hitting the punching bag.
Luke turned in your direction. A slow smile spread across his fast. He was quick to get his gloves off before greeting you with a forehead kiss. âHey beautiful.â His hands resting on your waist.
If your next boyfriend wasnât meeting the same standards as Luke was right now, you didnât want him. Luke was practically the perfect boyfriend.
âWe should go on a date tonight.â You suggested, obviously curious about this âtwinkleâ Silena was talking about.
Luke grabbed his gym bag and put away his boxing gloves. You grabbed him a white towel to wipe off his sweat. âYeah? For what?â He drank some water and tossed his gym bag on his shoulder. âYour family being shitty to you again?â
Silena and Beckendorf said quick goodbyes and left the gym. You took out your body spray and spritzed Luke with it a couple of times. âNoâŚâ You made sure Silena and Beckendorf were gone. âEaster. We need to talk about Easter with my family?â
âWhat is there to talk about?â Luke asked and sat down on the wooden bench. You joined him. His musk covered by your body spray.
âI donât knowâŚlikeââ You paused trying to get the words out. âWhat we should do if likeâmy mother asks some stupid question. Or my aunt flirts with you or if my family ask you to prove weâre dating.â
âYouâre not trying to get me to take you out and get you food are you?â Luke nudged your shoulder and teased.
âYes.â You stated bluntly. âBut more importantly, Easter.â
Luke and you decide to go out to dinner at a diner nearby. You made him shower and change first before anything. While he was at his dorm, you were struggling to pick and outfit to successful procure a twinkle.
You stood in front of your mirror, looking at your reflection. Clarisse was on her bed, reading a book for her English class. Though she got distracted by you numerous times.
After what it felt like the umpteenth time putting on different jeans and skirts and some sort of clothing combination, Clarisse her headphones away from her ears. She could feel your frustration and dilemma. The hot-tempered girl wa sin your shoes when she had her first day with Chris.
âWear something casual, but cute.â Clarisse suggested and scanned her eyes over the clothes scattered on the floor.
âLike that withâŚthat.â The articles of clothing made sense together, but would it give that twinkle you were curious about. It would have to do for now.
âWhenâs he picking you up?â Clarisse sat up. âI promise you, youâre overthinking this. Itâll be fine.â
You look at her after changing into the clothes she picked out. âI know, I justâwhat if this doesnât work out?â Of course, you had in the rebelling against your parents with this relationship, but to Clarisseâyou looked worried about your relationship with Luke.
âIt will.â Clarisse reassured. âYouâve been best friends for how long?â
A couple of knocks rapped against your door. Clarisse gestured for you to take a deep breath before she went back to reading. You stalked over to the door and opened it.
âGo change.â You immediately stated upon seeing his shirt.
In big bright white letters, his shirt read âI <3 my girlfriend.â Forgot the twinkle, that stupid t-shirt was going to haunt you forever if you let Luke go out in that.
âWhat, why?â Luke whined, knowing exactly why.
âLuke! Go change orâorâŚâ You hesitated to find a right threat.
âHelpful hint, sweetheart. If youâre going to threaten me, find a viable threat before you start it.â Luke called out and went to change.
You were going to strangle him. Maybe this relationship wonât be as easy managing as you thought. You were praying Easter will go how itâs planned or at least work in pissing off your parents.
ââ ٠⤠٠ââ¡ ⢠ââ ٠⤠٠ââ ⢠¡ ââ ٠⤠٠ââ
taglist:
@happy-mushrooms @m00ng4z3r @justanotherkpopstanlol @2hiigh2cry @celluifleur @thatbird-fromrio @yuminako @pookiebear16 @mxtokko @cxcillia @kai-islost @kidkrowk @iluvpjo
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too many of u guys still write annabeth as white⌠like what
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BABE WAKE UP NOLI IS BACK
hi i disappeared for an entire month but im back now lol ⌠just wanted to announce that i will now be writing for carmen berzatto and jj maybank :P (and luke castellan too so dw) okay thatâs it i hope you all had/have a nice day <333
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sigh idk what to write helpđđ
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charlie bushnell the man you are
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defeating gaea with the power of friendship
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omg hiiiiii! just saw your requests opened, so excited! i was hoping you could write something for lockwood with the enemies to lovers trope. anything you feel like with that is awesome! and ofc if you donât want to feel free to not write it đŠˇđŠˇ
-mel
what once was ; anthony lockwood x reader
âť synopsis: you and lockwood hated each other, you had since you were just starting out as agents. when your team is made to work with his on a big case, deeper feelings might just get revealed
âť word count: 10K (exactly, what are the chances?)
âť warnings: swearing, mentions of kissing, angst maybe?, injuries
âť thank u so much for this request lovely!!!! i am SO sorry this took almost a month, but it's the longest fic I've ever posted here so hopefully that makes up for it a little?? if this isn't what u had in mind pls let me know and I'd be happy to write something different! ik it might not be exactly enemies to lovers but I hateee when the dynamic has no respect or reason to be lovers. anyway thank u for the request lolol!!!! xxxxx
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You thought you were a good person. You dedicated your life to fighting ghosts, you helped old ladies cross the street, you recycled when you could. That was enough to be considered a good person, right? You were almost totally convinced, except for the all the vile things you had to say about Anthony Lockwood.
He was, with no exaggeration, the bane of your existence. You had known him all your life, but hadnât been friends with him since you were both twelve, just beginner agents. And yet, despite all of this hatred burning up within you, it seemed like the universe wouldnât give you a moment of peace.
You understood running into his company every once in a while â agency events, maybe the occasional case, but lately it seemed like it was every week you had to face Lockwoodâs nauseating grin and infuriating attempts at being charming. Whether it was your respective teams being sent on overlapping missions, picking up more supplies or just trying to pick up a coffee after a draining night, you had started to see Lockwood everywhere.
When you saw him again whilst you were picking up some doughnuts for your team you couldnât help yourself snapping at him.
âGod, are you obsessed with me or something, Anthony?â You barely spared him a glance as you finished the transaction with the cashier, quietly thanking him as you left. Lockwood did the same, practically throwing down his cash to catch up to you.
âYou wish I was obsessed with you! I am just as unhappy as you are, trust me.â
âSo what, you chased after me just say something we both already knew? Or do you have something youâd like to say, an apology perhaps?â You chanced a look in his eyes. Hurt flashed through them, and you felt a sick sense of satisfaction.
âIâve told you before and Iâll tell you again, I donât know what youâre talking about!â He cried, almost dropping his own box of pastries when he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. You didnât try to hide the rolling of your eyes.
âWhatever,â You huffed, before being struck with an idea. âBy the way, did you hear that Iâm now a team leader? That makes me the youngest in at least ten years â maybe ever. Pretty good for someone not fit to be an agent, donât you think?â You feigned an interest in his opinion. His face dropped for a moment, then contorted to become almost polite.
âThat was neverââ You interrupted him with another sigh.
âAnthony, I really donât care to listen to you discredit my achievements anymore.â You left him on the side of the street, marching back to your dorm at Fittes. You didnât need to hear him tear you down and ruin your self-confidence more than he already had â not that you would ever tell him that. Lockwood was similarly disgruntled. Every interaction between you two turned into a fight regardless of what he said; he just couldnât win.
You had a week of blissful distance from Lockwood and Co before you ran into them, quite unfortunately. You and your team had been assigned to an apartment that allegedly housed a few Type Ones, nothing serious but the residents had complained of hearing noises at odd hours. You held a bit of doubt â living in the dorms had forced you to become accustomed to the most bizarre noises at night, and those were most definitely not ghosts. Plus, adults tended to be paranoid; the noise could be anything from rodents to their little children being awake in the early hours of the morning.
Still, you had a job to complete, so you trudged your small team up to the apartment in question, ready for a quick job and to be cozy in bed before midnight. When Lockwood and Co were standing outside the apartment next to your appointed one, your face dropped into a scowl.
âWhat are you doing here?â You snapped, talking directly to Lockwood. He hesitated for a moment before turning to face you, brilliant smile shining.
âLovely to see you again too, sweetheart, weâre actually here on a job? Nice of you to come as our clean-up crew, but that really wonât be necessary. Run along now.â You had to hand it to him, Lockwood had perfected his condescending tone. You were going to respond when the girl behind him began to talk.
âHey, I recognise you! Youâreââ Lockwood cut her off quickly.
âAlright, Luce, I think itâs time we go inside, donât you?â He was shepherding the girl through the apartment door before you could process what was happening. George, to his credit, looked highly amused at the whole thing. You always liked George, even when he was at Fittes, and seeing him was usually the only upside to your interactions with Lockwood and Co.
âWhoâs the girl?â You asked, nodding your head to where she and Lockwood had disappeared to.
âLucy Carlyle,â He answered, âSheâs a Listener â still learning the ropes.â
âAnd she knows me how?â George just smiled, and you could tell he was keeping secrets.
âIâm sure youâll find out one day.â He began to follow the rest of his coworkers and you pouted.
âI hate when you side with him!â You called after him, before composing yourself and directing your own team to start the night. They just went along with it, used to your behaviour, and set up your equipment for the mission.
It was not going well. You could all feel a supernatural presence, but no ghosts and no signs of what youâd thought mightâve been the source. Plus, all you could hear was the apartment next door â their stompy footsteps, their laughter over the tea you knew they always had, and one of them wouldnât stop knocking on the fucking wall.
It was supremely childish, and you would put all of your bets on it being Lockwood trying to throw you off your game. Unfortunately, it was working. And your bad mood was spreading to your teammates. The mission was certainly not going well, all four of you picking fights and throwing digs at each other as you searched uselessly for what could possible be the source, all with no confirmed supernatural presence.
Just as you were about to say something really cruel to your favourite member of your team, the words died in your throat. The temperature rose a few degrees, and you could practically see all your negative thoughts floating away. By the looks of it, your teammates all felt it too. When the freezing shock of the change wore off, you all resigned to embarrassment, realising exactly what had just happened.
This was only furthered when Lockwood waltzed into the apartment, cocky grin practically blinding you.
âGuess that another successful mission for Lockwood and Co now includes saving the careers of egotistical Fittes agents too now,â He crowed, and you rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might disconnect from your face.
âClearly,â You tried to keep your tone level, âThe source wasnât in this apartment, so we couldnât have found it regardless of if you were here.â
âPlus they were just Type Ones. You didnât save any lives, Lockwood,â Your best friend, Sarah, piped up and you smirked.
âMaybe not in the physical sense,â He conceded, âBut I definitely saved the career of the âyoungest ever team leaderâ â donât think you wouldâve kept the position for very long if you couldnât fight a simple Type One.â You turned red in humiliation. How dare Lockwood act so high and mighty, like you owed him the career you fought so hard for? You wanted to express all the seething fury that burned your tongue, but the only thing that came out was a vicious declaration.
âI hate you, Anthony Lockwood.â Lockwood at least had the decency to look somewhat hurt. Although youâd been arguing for years with the insults only getting meaner as you both grew up and developed more precise vocabularies, neither of you had ever vocalised any hatred before. It cut deeper than Lockwood thought it would. You didnât wait to observe the intricacies of his reaction, storming out of the apartment, making sure your kit bag hit him heavily as you passed.
âWell,â Lockwood broke the awkward silence that fell over the apartment, âI think weâre all done for the night. Letâs go.â Lockwood and Co began packing up their kit bags and gear, Lucy sweeping some leftover magnesium dust under an armchair. Lockwood paused in the doorway, looking back to Sarah with a curious softness.
âMake sure sheâs alright, yeah?â Sarah nodded, swallowing a curious look. With a final nod he was gone, leaving the rest of your team to wonder what had just happened to shift the dynamic.
Back in your dorm at Fittes, you were still fired up. Pissed off by Lockwoodâs ego, his audacity, you had practically already paced a hole in the floor upon your short return from dinner. All of these years and he still didnât believe you were a capable agent, let alone team leader! You may not have really hated him; it was hard to truly hate someone who you shared so much history with, but you were glad you said it. Glad you hurt him, even a little. Maybe then heâd know how you felt.
He had â probably unwittingly â saved you arse though. It was one of your very first missions and unfortunately Lockwood was right; a team leader who couldnât defeat a simple Type One, or realise that their case was a goose chase in the wrong apartment, wouldnât last. So although he was the one who had told you you couldnât be an agent in the first place, you probably owed your current position to him, which only mad you more mad. It was an endless cycle of being angry at Anthony Lockwood.
When Sarah came in to sit on your bed, you still werenât done, taking the opportunity to verbalise your stream of thought.
âHe is simply the worst person in the whole world and has no respect for me! I mean, he wouldnât have helped at all if it didnât serve his own inflated ego ,â You said, throwing your hands in the air in anguish. Sarah simply watched, barely concealing her amusement.
âOk, but have you considered maybe he just argues back because you hate him? I mean, where did it start?â You huffed, vaulting yourself back onto your mattress.
âWhen we were twelve years old, he told me I couldnât be an agent. I said âfuck youâ and have worked my bloody arse off to be one despite it, and to become the youngest team leader at Fittes, and yet every time I see him he still tries to sabotage my career or make me look stupid! God, he drives me up the wall!â
âSo youâve said all these horrid things because he didnât believe in you?â She laughed a little, eliciting a deep frown from you.
âYou donât get it,â You said, tone solemn, âHe was my best friend. He was supposed to believe in me even when everyone else said it was dumb.â The dampened mood brought a premature end to your conversation, Sarah leaving you to your thoughts and feelings as you dwelled on the past in a way you would usually forbid yourself from.
You pulled a framed photo out from behind your stack of books on the shelf. You and Lockwood as children, smiling brightly on a day at the beach, a spade in your hand and a bucket in his, your free ones intertwined as kids often do. You didnât know why youâd kept it after all these years, looking at any photo of Lockwood typically made you mad, but you felt a bit guilty discarding the keepsake, especially the handmade frame his parents had given you one birthday before they passed. Plus, the memory untouched was one of your favourites â one of the last of your carefree days in childhood when you and Lockwood were best friends and both your families were whole. You held it softly for a moment, indulging yourself in being swept away by memories before deciding enough was enough and returning to the present, distracting yourself with a novel youâd picked up.
You were given a few weeks to cool down, blissfully free from any trace of Lockwood. You thought he mustâve been aware of the heightened tension between you recently, since youâd seen Lucy shopping around Arifâs and ran into George whilst getting your usual Friday night takeaway.
Hearing your name being called from around the corner of an aisle you turned quickly, reflexes on edge. Seeing it was just the redhead you relaxed, making yourself smile.
âOh, hi, Lucy. How are you?â You made polite conversation, continuing on with your shopping. She replied cordially, a vague awkward air between you that you were both trying your best to overcome.
âWeâre all really sorry about the case the other day, by the way. We didnât mean to take it over or jeopardise your job or anything.â
âItâs nothing,â You assured, âI shouldnât have let my emotions get the best of me, every agent knows that.â
âYeah, but if Lockwood hadnâtââ
âLucy,â You interrupted, âYou donât need to condemn Lockwood, or defend him. We both know where we stand with each other and thatâs ok. I hope that doesnât stop us from being friends either; youâre sweet.â Lucy managed a smile, revealing a pretty sparkle in her eye.
âIâd like to be friends too. Maybe we just wonât tell him,â She giggled, and you nodded gravely.
âSounds like a plan.â You left Arifâs with a bag full of groceries and plan for coffee sometime.
George was less forgiving than Lucy. As you bickered over who got the last can of Coke in the restaurantâs little fridge, he imparted some of his very much unwanted advice.
âYou should apologise. I think you crossed a line,â He said and you rolled your eyes.
âHe questioned my right to even be where I am â I think I have the right to be pissed at him.â
âHe didnât mean it,â George said quickly. Almost too quickly.
âHow would you know?â You narrowed your eyes. George recoiled â heâd been caught.
âYou know,â He trailed off, âLockwoodâs not like that. You should know that better than anyone.â You huffed again, fed up.
âI knew,â You corrected, âHeâs shown me exactly how he feels about me now. And I am absolutely fine with that. Iâm taking the Coke.â You ended the conversation abruptly, snatching the can out of Georgeâs grip.
âBut Lockwood doesnât like any of the other flavours!â He called after you. You exaggerated a laugh, not looking back as you opened the restaurant door quickly.
âI know!â You yelled over your shoulder. George watched you leave, calculating look in his eyes. You said you hated Lockwood, he didnât doubt you believed it, too. But he knew that most people didnât remember which fizzy drinks their enemies liked.
â Ë・ âŕ¨âĄŕ§â Ë・ â
Thankfully, you got just the distraction you needed. Your team had been given one of the most exciting cases on the Fittes roster. One of those old boutique hotels with funnily named rooms and a long, terrible history that had you buried in fascinating research. You couldnât believe your team had been given the assignment, it was a sign that you were really beginning to be respected as a team leader in the agency. So, you couldnât screw it up.
You and your team had been practically camped out in the Fittes archives, researching as much as you possibly could about the old hotel. There were a smattering of unfortunate deaths across the years â some darker than others, but you were confident it was nothing you couldnât handle. The owners hadnât specified exactly what supernatural experiences they had seen around the hotel, just that it was clear there were several presences around and they wanted them all gone to reopen the hotel as soon as possible. This did admittedly make you a little apprehensive â you didnât actually have a solid idea of how many ghosts youâd be dealing with, and it was anyoneâs guess how many of them would be Type Twos.
Finally, you were confident you and your team had done as much research as you could, and you were prepared for anything. And so you packed your kit bags, took the train ride and rocked up to the hotel mid afternoon, confidence overflowing. By nightfall youâd been on a tour of the grounds, set up your base and had started brewing some tea to get you all in the zone. You took a glance out the front window, seeing movement in one of the windows of the house next door. It was owned by the people who ran the hotel and they intended to open it as a second venue, but delegated the job to some smaller agency since the stakes for it werenât as high.
It was all going well for a while. You had a plan to go room by room, making each ghost free before finishing in the majorly haunted kitchen. You were inclined to believe thereâd be a cluster of Type Twos there since it was set alight years ago, and the accident had been swept under the rug in favour of saving the business.
The entryway was easy; a few Type Ones that practically led you their sources, clearly just wanting to finally be laid to rest. There was one nasty Limbless that gave you all a fright, but your researcher, Ben, was always miles ahead of the rest of you and knew exactly who the ghost was and therefore how to put him to rest. You told him you owed him a beer later and moved on, crossing a single room off the floor plan and shifting into the library, which was not so easy.
You started to think things were not as great as you originally anticipated when you turned to face the mass of Type Ones. Not the end of the world, a little bloody annoying though. Sarah seemed to agree, kicking the leg of a couch in frustration. The four of you figured your way out of it, though significantly depleted of supplies.
You returned to your home base to recoup, physically and mentally battered.
âWhatâs the plan?â Sarah asked, chugging down mouthfuls from her water bottle. You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought hard, tapping your fingers insistently on the old wooden table.
âAlright, I think weâve got enough for one more safely. Kyan, you go outside and get the rest of our equipment whilst we hit the second bedroom.â
âIf weâre right then there should only be the one ghost there, right? The strangled woman?â You nodded in response to Ben, mentally drawing your plan.
âAnd if youâre wrong?â Kyan asked.
âWe wonât be,â You affirmed, tapping twice on the table to get you all moving.
Kyan left the building to go fetch the spare supplies and the remaining three of you ventured into the second bedroom. Everything was as it should be; lower temperature, creeping feelings of unease and miasma. Youâd put together your chain circle and were feeling good about the Type Two woman you were facing, well, as good as you could in those circumstances.
That was, until it wasnât just one Type Two. Despite the research and preparation youâd undertaken, there was definitely more than one Type Two enraged by your presence in the room at that moment. There was the woman, an angry apparition of some sort â you didnât have the time to exactly figure out which subtype she fell into when a man also appeared. Shit. He wasted no time showing you he was aggressive too, and your heart sunk into your toes.
Doing some quick mental calculations, you announced the new plan â to get out. As team leader, you refused to be responsible for an injury or something worse because you wouldnât back down when you knew you didnât have enough defences left.
âSoon as itâs safe, get the fuck out of here,â You said, feeling to make sure they were still both in the circle with you as you stood with backs inward. âUse your defences as liberally as you feel you need to â weâre all getting out of here tonight.â
âWhat about the sources?â Sarah asked nervously, âWeâve only got one or two so far.â
âWho cares? Most agencies get one or two a mission and weâre in a giant bloody hotel. Weâve got more nights to get this done. We canât get it done if you lot go off and die, can we?â Ben shrugged.
âSâpose not. Letâs go.â With that the three of you made a run for it, bolting out the bedroom door and into the corridor.
âOh fuck!â You yelled, dodging out the way of another phantom headed your way. Evidently your previous endeavours had attracted the attention of some of the other ghosts inhabiting the hotel, none looking all that happy.
Your swear words didnât falter as you continued the escape, ducking and jumping and making an utter fool of yourself to ensure you all made it out alive. Youâd been covered by Sarah a few minutes ago with one of her magnesium flares, and so returned the favour without hesitation, only faltering slightly when you realised it was your last. You tried not to worry about it too much, you were nearing the laundry where there was a back door you could get to.
The closer you got to your escape the fewer visible apparitions there were. That was a good thing, your chances of ghost touch reducing greatly. However, that didnât mean you werenât still being hunted. A poltergeist had found you somewhere along the way, and the stream of things being thrown at you hadnât ended yet. Youâd vaguely felt something heavy hitting the back of your head and shoulders, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins was withholding the pain for the moment.
Youâd crossed the threshold into the laundry, the back door within your sights. Maybe you got complacent, believing the end was nearer than you thought. Maybe it was just awful timing. However, as your feet hit the tiles of the room, you were being swept off your feet by the washing machine sliding into you, crushing you between it and the wall. You cried out unintentionally, feeling a sickening crack inside your chest. Your teammates turned back, door wide open and safety in sight.
âDonât you dare come back for me,â You croaked, the wind pushed out of you. âOr I swear to God Iâll come and haunt you.â Ben took the threat and ran, ducking out the door into the fresh air of the night. Sarah hesitated, turning back to lock eyes with you, regret painted across her features. With a final threat she left too, leaving you to try and push the machine away from you in order to make your own escape. However, in an unfortunate series of events, the adrenaline started to wear off after your chase and you felt the sharp pain running along your skull, a thick drop of blood making its way down from a strand of hair into your left eye. Plus, you were pretty sure the machine had broken one of your wrists as any pressure you put onto it trying to move the machine set your nerves on fire, leaving you just your legs to try and make an escape. Turns out itâs harder than it looks to push a stupidly heavy washing machine away from you with your legs when youâre incapacitated on the floor.
Seeing your best friend the strangled woman approaching you sighed, trying to resign yourself to your fate. There was no way you were making it out without a miracle, and you were never the lucky kind. As she spotted you, you sealed your eyes tightly closed, unwilling to watch your own demise. It never came. When you chanced one eye open all you saw was sparks, the unmistakeable smell of a magnesium flare filling the room. You didnât know what to feel. Relieved, of course, pissed off that your team had disrespected your wishes and endangered themselves, faint from the adrenaline and blood loss. Mostly faint, you decided, as you lay your head back against the tile, a sleep sounding like the nicest thing in the world suddenly.
You must have passed out for a minute or two as when you opened your eyes again you were in the air, distant voices yelling over the explosions and lights, but you felt a million miles away. You cuddled yourself into the body of whoever was carrying you â they were warm and your body felt ice cold. Everywhere you looked appeared blurry (and slightly pink, presumably from the blood in your eye), so you granted yourself some mercy and simply closed them. You thought you heard a mumbled âHold on for me,â But you couldnât be sure, everything was ringing in your head and the weight of staying awake was heavy on your foggy brain.
The next time you woke up was about half an hour later, or so you guessed. The sky was fractionally lighter than you remembered seeing, inching towards dawn, and you were laid down on dewey wet grass. The cool of it was nice on your skin, though you knew it would do major damage to your hair. Not that that was your greatest concern at the moment. You pushed yourself up on your elbows slowly, looking around at the scene that was coming into focus. Your team were on one side of you, looking exhausted but mostly physically fine. Straight ahead of you was Barnes, not looking as disappointed as you thought he would after a failed case. To your left was Lockwood and Co. Why were Lockwood and Co here? Why was Lockwood looking at you so intently, and why did he look like he was worried about you?
Only the first of your questions was answered. Evidently Lockwood and Co were the âsmall agencyâ the hotel owners had given a chance for the smaller house on the edge of the property. They heard the commotion your team had made and Sarahâs screaming outside the kitchen door and came to save the day â of course. You were about to put up the protest that you didnât need saving but it died in your throat when you saw the serious looks of everyone around you. Clearly this wasnât the time for any of your bullshit.
âClearly this case is bigger than your team can achieve,â Barnes said, and the fire was reignited within you. He must have been able to see what you were going to say and cut you off, âBut Iâm not taking you off the case.â
âThank you,â You said quickly, tension in your shoulders releasing slightly.
âLockwood and Co will work with you until the hotel is ghost free.â
âWhat?â You and Lockwood cried in unison, and you felt his eyes fall back on you. You refused to meet his gaze.
âI donât think thatâs a good idea, Sirââ You started, being cut off by Lockwood.
âWe donât work well togetherââ
âI happen to know you both need this case, or do you not care about the future of your jobs?â Barnes raised an eyebrow in the intimidating way only he could pull off. He had you there. Failing in a case, especially one that resulted in a near death experience would certainly jeopardise your trajectory at Fittes, and, unbeknownst to you, Lockwood and Co were pretty desperate for some good representation, unable to receive the praise deserved from the Combe Carey Hall case. You looked at Lockwood to find him already searching your face. After a moment of silent arguing between the two of you, you turned back to face Barnes, exaggerated smiles on both your faces.
âWeâll do it.â You smiled sweetly. A few more formalities sent Barnes and the other DEPRAC officer off, and only the two teams were left standing around, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of all the kit bags.
âSo what do we do now?â Sarah asked, a thought very similar to the ones bouncing around your head at the moment.
âBreakfast?â George suggested, and you didnât think youâd ever seen your team agree to something so enthusiastically. The group of you all headed back to the train station, but Lockwood didnât let you continue in the line to get your ticket. Instead he pulled you away from the crowd, seeming to have already told Lucy what was happening, judging from her cheerful wave goodbye.
You glared at him, yanking your arm away then groaning at the pain.
âWhat are we doing, Lockwood?â You asked with an exaggerated huff.
âWeâre going to the hospital,â He said, unbothered by your protests. âAnd donât say youâre fine because itâs clear youâre injured. Iâd say a broken wrist, concussion and maybe a cracked rib, but we can let the doctors tell us Iâm wrong, Iâd be happy for them to tell you otherwise.â That shut you up, not least because you knew he was probably right. Youâd been given a shot of adrenaline and a few painkillers by the DEPRAC officer who accompanied Barnes over, but you probably did need actual medical attention.
It was a very awkward cab ride to the local hospital. You and Lockwood were so used to arguing by now that silence felt like the only other viable option. You couldnât make small talk, what would you even talk about? The only thing you knew about his life was his childhood, and you sure as hell werenât gonna talk about that. The tension was palpable in the backseat, and when the cab driver wished you good luck for the hospital visit, you figured he didnât just mean because of your injuries. You did force yourself to thank Lockwood when he paid for the ride though, even if it was just for the sake of the day moving on faster.
At least the waiting room created its own noise; beeping and chattering and footsteps filling the silence between you two. You struggled with the form in front of you, inconveniently having your dominant hand be out of working order. You painfully etched out your information over an embarrassing amount of time before Lockwood huffed loudly and snatched the clipboard from your lap.
âFuckâs sake,â He muttered, pulling his own pen from his suit pocket, beginning to scribble down the answers for you. You just relaxed, your tired, drug-addled brain being allowed to rest for a moment. It wasnât until he asked about your health insurance that you fully realised he was answering the questions by memory and forced your eyes to focus on the paper. Sure enough heâd gotten it all right, birthday and middle name included. You glanced up at him curiously, but it seemed like this was the moment he refused to make eye contact. You only had to inform him of things that had changed since youâd fallen out, neither of you verbalising that fact.
Things didnât change when you were called into the doctorâs office either. The mix of pain, medicine and sleep deprivation led you to embrace the exam table and bordered on falling asleep as Lockwood talked for you. Heâd gotten the rundown of the actual events from Sarah and his brief moments when he saved you, and explained the night as you got an x-ray for your hand. Plus, as you were waiting for the cast (it was, in fact, broken), he explained your previous medical history â the knee you dislocated when you were nine and the broken pinky finger from the year after. You only had to participate to explain the injuries youâd acquired during your career as an agent; the ones from after you and Lockwood stopped being friends.
The whole trip was extremely bizarre and slightly unnerving, and you were glad to get on the train on the way back.
âYou were wrong about one thing,â You said, pulling out your walkman from your kit bag.
âAnd whatâs that?â Lockwood asked, and you got the impression he was bracing to be yelled at again â you felt almost bad.
âNo cracked rib for me.â You grinned, beginning to laugh uncharacteristically. You didnât know why, it really wasnât that funny, but Lockwood followed suit soon after. The two of you laughed borderline hysterically, much too energetic for that hour of the morning when everyone else was still heading to work. It only tapered off when your poor ribs couldnât take it anymore (not broken but aggressively bruised), and the two of you fell back into silence. You had your music and Lockwood had a magazine you suspected heâd stolen from the A+E waiting room.
The only other time you spoke during the trip was when you summoned the courage to utter a somewhat genuine âThank you.â
âWhat?â
âThanks. For not letting me die. And stuff.â
âOh. Youâre welcome,â Lockwood shot you a smile, the glowing kind you rarely got to see anymore.
As you got back to London and closer to Portland Row where your team was waiting, the air seemed to get thicker between the two of you once again. Maybe it was the proximity to the things that had torn you apart or the sense that you had predefined roles to play, but the carefree air between you had dissipated, leaving only the familiar tension that had been building over the last four years.
You followed Lockwood inside, trying to hide the out of body experience you were having returning to his family home after so many years. It had changed a little, of course, but still felt overwhelmingly the same, which both scared and comforted you. All the freaky foreign ghost hunting objects still littered the shelves, and you took the liberty of admiring them once again, remembering the stories Lockwoodâs parents would tell about them and the adventures theyâd had when collecting them. In your periphery you saw Lockwood hurriedly grab something off the wall by the stairs, shoving it in a drawer, but you really had no interest, choosing instead to reacquaint yourself with the house. The glimpse you got up the stairs showed a myriad of framed pictures of Lockwood and you scoffed â of course his ego would be on full display within his own home.
â Ë・ âŕ¨âĄŕ§â Ë・ â
It was surprisingly easy to get into the groove of working with Lockwood and Co. Obviously you already liked George and Lucy, but your team seemed to work unexpectedly well with theirs. You and Lockwood stayed out of each otherâs ways, the few times you were left to work together resulting in another stupid argument. The first time when you thought he was calling you dumb, the second over something minuscule; whoâd let the tea brew too long so it tasted shit. And then who had to subsequently get up and make the next pot. Despite both of you honestly trying to be professional and get on with the job, it was agreed by everyone that it was simply easiest to keep the two of you apart as much as possible.
However, when the hotel owners wanted the leaders of both teams to meet up for updates on the case, you couldnât get out of it. The day wasnât looking good. Youâd shown up to Portland Row so you could get a cab together â the meeting being dinner in central London, and had already argued with him over his choice of socks. In your defence, the powder blue socks matching your dress did make it look like you were a high school couple trying to match at a formal! However, George had rolled his eyes and pushed the two of you back out and towards the waiting cab, effectively ending that argument. Youâd also teased Lockwood for bringing his rapier to a business dinner, but that was neither here nor there.
Youâd held it together for most of the dinner, both of you putting on your best fronts and using your most formal tones to convince the elder couple that you were confident about the case. You found yourself kicking his shins to stop Lockwood from making promises you couldnât keep regarding the case, and he got you back with condescending remarks, correcting you when he disagreed with how you presented the case. Altogether though you thought you were pretty subtle, and the two of you were presenting a model image of your respective companies.
However, when you shot Lockwood one of your saccharine smiles under the pretence of friendliness â heâd just undermined your authority again and stolen the best piece of dessert that you were going for, as if he didnât torture you enough â you were shocked to hear the woman across from you laugh.
âItâs so wonderful to see you two bicker like an old married couple,â She giggled, and both you and Lockwoodâs jaws dropped. âI mean, it just seems so dismal to be dating in these times, but you two give me hope that the future generations will still be able find love despite the Problem.â
âAnd clearly youâre both sensible kids, which is very important for a lasting relationship. Working for two different agencies would surely diffuse tensions around all those dangerous missions and such you agents partake in â except for this one, of course,â Her husband chimed in, jolly glint in his eyes.
âYes, yes, but itâs important to remember to be kids as much as you can. But you two playing footsies all night has proved that youâve got that covered too. Silliness is just as crucial as being sensible, itâs how a marriage stays fun. We would know, weâve had fifty odd years of it!â
You didnât know how to react, and by the looks of it, Lockwood didnât know either with his signature smile frozen on his face. First of all, you were not playing footsies with Anthony Lockwood â the bruise forming under his trouser leg was testament to that. Second of all, you had no idea how the woman could get your dynamic so incredibly wrong. Aside from all of Lockwoodâs double edged comments and cocky corrections of basically anything you said, the two of you had hardly addressed each other directly all night, you might as well have been strangers!
The dinner wrapped up very soon after. The couple had taken a liking to you both and so trusted your teams to handle the case as you saw fit, only making you promise to take a romantic weekend getaway (or honeymoon! As the woman had remarked optimistically) to the hotel once it was completely ghost-free and renovated. For once you were glad that Lockwood was unable to ever shut up as he took the lead, seeming to believe that corroborating their assumption was the best choice in your situation. You werenât sure you were entirely comfortable with lying to this sweet old couple, but you couldnât deny that Lockwood was a better talker than you, and would probably handle the situation with more delicacy.
That was how you ended up being led out of the restaurant with Lockwoodâs hand on the small of your back. You wondered if heâd ever done this before, and you didnât know if you meant for a real or pretend relationship. You both said your goodbyes to the couple, flattered by the abundance of compliments they paid you â both personally and professionally, assuring you they were overjoyed to have your teams work the case. Just before they stepped into the cab the woman took you aside.
âHold onto a boy who looks at you like that,â She said, âYou might fight, but when heâs this in awe of you, youâll find a way to make it work.â You didnât know how to respond to that and so simply nodded, offering a weak smile as she slid into the back seat of the taxi.
That left you and Lockwood alone. You just looked at each other for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.
âDo you mind if we walk home? I really fancy some air right now.â Lockwood easily agreed, looking rather flustered himself, and off the two of you went into the night.
Neither of you spoke for a while, but you could tell he wanted to. Lockwood always chewed his lip when he was holding something back, he had since he was a child. You sighed and asked him, knowing it was the only way to make the habit go away.
âNothing,â He said, âJust weird. Donât you think?â
âNah,â You lied, âOld people just say things like that all the time. They donât care to know the full picture.â
âWhich is?â
âWe hate each other.â Hurt flashed through his eyes, but it didnât make you feel as good as it did the first time youâd said it.
âI donât hate you,â He said quietly, almost a whisper.
âWhat?â
âI donât hate you. We donât get along anymore, but I donât hate you. I hope you know that.â You faltered for a second. Had his use of âanymoreâ been intentional to create a stabbing feeling in your gut?
âOh. I guess I donât really hate you either, if weâre getting sappy about it.â You tried to diffuse the tension growing between you, not wanting it to evolve into a discussion about what estranged you in the first place. Lockwood refused to apologise and you refused to forget, resulting in the bitter stalemate youâd been locked in for the past few years.
Your distraction came with a glance over Lockwoodâs shoulder, and the wisp of a phantom coming into view. Lockwood was trying to continue the conversation about your developing relationship, but stopped when he noticed you frozen beside him. Turning slowly he swore when he saw the ghost, going straight for his rapier.
âPut your hand into my coat pocket,â He said, effectively drawing you from your freeze.
âExcuse me?â You whisper-yelled, not in the mood for him to try and lighten the mood with whatever dumb joke he was trying to make.
âJust trust me, I have flares in the inside pocket, just reach in and grab them to defend yourself whilst I keep an eye on them.â Them? You wondered until you looked around, seeing other ghosts start to emerge from the shadows, attracted by the scene you were obviously creating. You wasted no more time, ignoring the intimacy of reaching into Lockwoodâs jacket, grabbing yourself a flare for each hand. With you accounted for, Lockwood told you the plan, heâd fight a path back to Portland Row and youâd cover the both of you with the flares, since you werenât good for very much else with a broken wrist and no rapier.
It was hardly the most intense situation you or Lockwood had been in, but as the primary fighter in the situation, Lockwood was still putting up a good show of skill. Despite yourself you were entranced, admiring the graceful way he moved with the rapier, so in tune with it youâd think it was connected to his arm. As much as you hated Lockwood â well, youâd just established you didnât actually hate him. As much as you thought he was egotistical and irritating, you had to admit that you really admired him as an agent. Lockwood was undeniably talented with a rapier â it was the fencing competition that got him started in this business in the first place â but to watch him in action was really something special. If you didnât know better youâd think it was easy for him, he fought with the same ease and elegance he might drink a cup of tea.
You were so caught up in watching him that you hardly noticed when you arrived in front of 35 Portland Row, both luckily un-ghost touched. You were also alerted to the proximity youâd found yourself in. Youâd stayed close obviously, not wanting to be left to the ghosts, but when Lockwood had turned to make sure you were still with him safely inside the iron fence, you found yourself only inches apart.
At this distance you were alerted to just how much heâd changed since you were kids. He was taller, obviously, your chin tilted up to make eye contact. Heâd lost the baby fat that used to fill out his cheeks, leaving his face defined and bordering on gaunt â you figured he wasnât taking very good care of himself, judging on the dark circles that seemed by now permanent. Plus something had changed in his eyes. He didnât look carefree anymore, something dark and tortured lay behind the charming smiles. It wasnât hard to guess what it was, and you figured you probably had something identical. However, the small scar on his jawline from when you accidentally flung a plastic toy into his face was still there which drew a small smile from you. Something within you urged to run your finger along it, and you felt your fingers twitch before you realised how inappropriate it was. That instinct didnât feel so bad though when you caught Lockwoodâs gaze shift down to your lips. Only momentarily, but you saw it. And worse? The fact that you didnât mind. After all of these years and the fighting and terrible words shared, here you were maybe about to kiss Anthony Lockwood. You would be disgusted with yourself if you didnât have so many other feelings fighting their way to the top.
The front door opening was enough to make you both jump apart, you rushing towards it to get as far from Lockwood as possible.
âHey Lucy!â You called, practically floating up the front steps you were going so fast.
âUh, hey, guys. We thought we heard you outside so I got sent to check. Had to make sure you werenât secretly making out or something,â She joked and you forced out a laugh, far too loud to be real.
âAs if! Come on, Iâm dying for some tea.â You slid past her, rushing straight to the kitchen for a minute to think.
Lucy watched you go suspiciously, before turning to Lockwood.
âWhat did you do?â She interrogated, all her scary Lucy-ness coming out.
âI donât know,â Lockwood replied earnestly, still somewhat dazed himself. Lucy gave him one last look up and down before returning inside, leaving Lockwood to fix his smile on before rejoining the two teams.
â Ë・ âŕ¨âĄŕ§â Ë・ â
The week leading up to your teamâs next attempt at the hotel was extremely weird. You and Lockwood hadnât spoken about what had happened (or almost happened) out in the front garden, but you had had a long talk about your behaviour lately. Over a few cups of tea in the kitchen whilst the rest of your teams were working down in the basement, you managed to both admit you were being dickheads. There was no mention of the underlying factors of your resentment, but you both agreed for the sake of your jobs you would try and be friends, or at least civil. No more bickering, no more picking apart small comments, no more rolling eyes.
It worked for a bit, which was really complicating your emotions. On the one hand, Lockwood was lovely, like heâd always been, and it was kind of nice to be able to talk and joke with him again after so many years, although you both carefully avoided the topic of your personal lives. On the other hand, it made you sad to pretend that everything was fine when you knew what you did. He didnât think you could be an agent; Lockwood didnât think you were good enough. And you could both pretend all you liked to be friends, but as long as that was what he thought about you it could never be real. So, while youâd both stopped your rivalry on the surface and gotten on with the case, there was a tension bubbling behind your smiles that both of you could see whenever you locked eyes.
It all came to a head when you started discussing your action plan for the hotel. All seven of you were standing in the basement of Portland Row, staring at a blown up floor plan of the place, little figurines representing each of you. It didnât take you long to realise that you werenât being represented.
âWhere am I?â You asked, an uneasy silence falling over the room.
âYouâre not coming.â Lockwood took the fall, even though it had been a unanimous decision whilst you were on an Arifâs run one afternoon.
âExcuse me?â You couldnât help the biting tone in your words, fury youâd worked hard to conceal bubbling back up to the surface.
âYour wristââ Sarah tried to reason, but something in you had unlocked and you were not backing down this time.
âYou and I know full well if this was a Fittes case I would still be out in the field, broken wrist be damned,â You spat, and you could practically see the gears turning in Lockwood and Lucyâs heads.
âThey make you go into the field injured?â Lucy asked, but you werenât focused on answering her â George nodded for you.
âSo whoâs barred me from being in the field, on what I might remind you, was my case first.â There were a few moments of silence where no one wanted to be the subject of your anger, but with a resigned sigh, Lockwood accepted the blame.
âIt was my idea.â You couldnât help the frustrated groan that came out of your mouth.
âGod, this is so typical! Youâve never thought I was good enough, and now what? Sabotaging my cases? My career? Because you donât believe in me,â Your voice broke on the last sentence, and you could feel the tears heavy behind your eyes, threatening to fall. You spat a final âFuck you,â before running up the basement stairs, up to where you knew the bathroom would be for some privacy.
You realised when you were at the top of the stairs that in your time working with Lockwood and Co you hadnât actually used their bathroom, and didnât remember which of the closed doors it was. Choosing one blindly you shut yourself inside, finally letting the tears that blurred your vision roll down your cheeks.
You sobbed heavily, indulging all the terrible feelings youâd been concealing for far too long. When the tears werenât so frequent the setting around you came back into focus, and you noticed with a start you definitely werenât in the bathroom. The view from the window told you it was Lockwoodâs late parentâs bedroom, but the used furniture and messy bed said someone was still living there. Your stomach dropped as you stood, wiping the tears from your eyes. Looking around you were sure this was Lockwoodâs room, the suit jacket on the desk chair a dead giveaway. However, a picture frame on his nightstand attracted your attention the most. It was the same one you had in your dorm at Fittes, the one gifted to you by Lockwoodâs parents for your birthday. Both of you grinning widely and carelessly joyful. It had been so long since youâd felt like that, even longer since youâd felt it around Lockwood. The thought made your heart ache a bit. His parents would be so disappointed in the two of you. That made you start crying a little again, picking up the photo to examine it closer.
âItâs been there since you left,â A voice from behind you said. âI couldnât bring myself to put it away.â You hadnât noticed Lockwood come in and you didnât know how long heâd been standing there. You put the photo down with a start, turning away to wipe your face dry again.
âGo away, Lockwood. Just give me a minute and Iâll be back downstairs. I overreacted but I need to get over it, okay?â You snapped, praying your face wasnât still red and splotchy (it was).
âNo,â He said, and you turned to face him curiously. âLook, this has gone on long enough and we need to fix things.â You crossed your arms petulantly, a silent challenge for him to fix the damage you believed to be all his. âYou said downstairs that I thought you couldnât be an agent. Why?â
âDonât you remember when I told you I wanted to be an agent like you?â You scoffed, âYou all but laughed in my face! You said I couldnât do it, that Iâd be injured or killed and I couldnât handle it. Iâve thought about that every case since, you killed my self esteem for years. I thought that if no one else, my best friend should have believed in me. But here I am, youngest team leader at Fittes with the highest successful case rate for my division. All in spite of you.â Lockwood stared at you, and you could practically see his neurons firing and making connections at a million miles an hour.
âThatâs not what I said.â You could barely contain your bitter laugh.
âDoes it matter? You didnât believe in me, thatâs whatâs important.â
âNo,â He said, âBecause thatâs not what I meant at all. I did believe in you â I do. I always have.â You scoffed again as he stumbled over his words. A little grovelling now couldnât make up for all the years of anxiety and insecurity heâd caused.
âI mean it! If I didnât believe in you, then whatâs all this?â He led you to one of his dresser drawers. Opening it there were a stack of papers and you picked a few of them up, flipping through them. Every single one was about you. Photos from your childhood together, newspaper clippings of your successes throughout the years, the magazine article you interviewed for talking about women in power in the ghost hunting field. Lockwood had saved every piece of media about you, the ragged edges showing heâd ripped them out just to keep them. You remained silent, astonished by this new revelation. You looked up at him, and Lockwood could have cried at the look in your eyes.
âI didnât say you couldnât be an agent,â He explained, âOr thatâs not what I meant. I meant that you shouldnât, or more clearly, I was saying donât. Asking. Donât you remember? My parents were dead, my sister had just died. You were all I had left, and I didnât want you to jump head first into the most dangerous job in the world. I wanted to protect you.â It was Lockwoodâs turn for his voice to break and tears to arise, and you suddenly felt supremely stupid.
âOh,â Was all you could say. After all of these years; the insults thrown and dirty looks exchanged, all your anger came from a misunderstanding? Not only that, a misunderstanding that twisted such an earnest declaration of care into something so awful.
âBut you did it, and you werenât just any agent,â He laughed slightly despite his emotions, âYou were the best bloody agent Fittes has ever seen and all I could do was watch from the shadows and be proud of you silently. Why do you think Lucy knew who you were already? There were pictures of you all over the house before I made them take them all down when I knew we were working together. I didnât want to scare you off.â
âBut all the arguingâŚâ You trailed off, still unable to completely process this information.
âJust because I love you doesnât mean you donât drive me up the wall, especially when you were being â or I believed you were â deliberately obtuse to my efforts to explain myself. But now I see we were just on totally different wavelengths.â You were really struggling, there was a lot of new information being revealed at such a rapid pace that was completely changing your perspective on your whole adolescence.
âYou love me?â Lockwood did laugh this time, loudly and with the same charm he usually had.
âYes, you idiot. I have since we were kids.â
Oh. Oh. You suddenly felt like an idiot. All of this time you thought that Lockwood believed you were weak, not good enough, not worthy of your successes, when in fact it was the complete opposite. And then you thought about how you felt about Lockwood. How his believed lack of faith in you affected you so much because you cared so deeply about what he thought of you. How you could never bring yourself to look away when he was fighting because he was so completely in his element. How nice it had been to be able to joke around with him during your research. Oh God. You thought you simply respected him and his skills as an agent, but evidently the truth had been just out of reach your whole life.
âAnthony?â He was already looking at you, eyes searching deep into your soul. âI think I might love you too.â Neither of you could help the kiddish smiles making their way on your faces, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly before you knew what was happening. It felt nice to be held by him again, the last time would have been after his sister died. These were much better circumstances.
When you both came down the stairs later, no one mentioned your intertwined hands. You all had a lovely dinner at Portland Row, warmth and laughter filling the space and making you feel at home like you used to when you were a kid.
It wasnât until you were on your way back to the Fittes dorms that Sarah leaned over to you, mischievous grin on her face.
âTell me you were making out up there, please,â She giggled, and you shoved her away lightheartedly.
âShut up,â You laughed, âBesides, it wasnât making out.â
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jackie and wilson.
previous | next masterlist.
pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile
word count: 6.2k
content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.
notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear
PART IV â better yet, she wouldnât careÂ
âIf I have to hear one more handjob joke, Iâm gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.âÂ
Lee Fletcherâs dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, âBare with me, newbie.â
You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on â youâd had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time youâd broken your wrist youâd been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldnât help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadnât trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury â when you probably shouldâve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game.Â
It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldnât have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians â barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didnât have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist.Â
âMaybe you shouldnât have been standing right in front of the notice board.â Luke had been saying all week.Â
âMaybe you shouldnât have asked me to accompany you there, then.â You replied every time.Â
Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, âWell, itâs looking good. I donât think you need this anymore.âÂ
He lifted up the knot of bandage heâd removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldnât help but grin back, âYouâre the best.âÂ
âIâm told.â He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, âBut you should still take it easy today. Itâs your first game, and youâve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.âÂ
You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, âIâm not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. Iâm beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.â
âHeâs on your team.âÂ
âI donât care.â You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. âSee you later!âÂ
The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didnât realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didnât see the relevance â after youâd broken your wrist, the boy hadnât even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn toâŚsit around and watch him train.Â
Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasnât letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile.Â
âI think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.âÂ
You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, âHey. Iâve only been here twice.â
âInâŚâ He checked his imaginary watch, âOne week. Thatâs gotta be a record.â
You narrowed your eyes jokingly, âOkay. Iâm still learning, leave me alone.âÂ
âWeâll see how much youâve learnt later today.â He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, âGood luck.âÂ
âThanks.â You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes.Â
âCome on, clumsy. Letâs get to training.â He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations.Â
For this game, theyâd paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened.Â
Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls â Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all.Â
Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadnât taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off.Â
âHere she is, the woman of the hour!â Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood.Â
Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch.Â
âOkay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.â The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. âYou all know the deal. I wonât repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, butâŚâ She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, âYou know where to go. Weâve been practising this, and in a couple of hours itâll be time to bring home yet another win.â
âItâs pretty much all in the cards for us.â Luke cropped himself into the speech, âCabin Nine have their special machinery but weâve got wit, power and numbers. Weâll be fine.âÂ
âSpeaking of cabin nine.â Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, âI grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didnât sabotage it.â
She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldnât keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you.Â
âWait.â You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, âThis is mine?âÂ
âYouâre damn right.â She smirked, âJake was having a field day making that thing, couldnât stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,â She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, âTheyâre lethal. Youâll be unbeatable out there with this thing.âÂ
âCool.â You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, âWhoops.âÂ
You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought â a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusaâs head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. Youâd have to ask Jake about that later.Â
âWe have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we wonât bore you with details.â A young girl who youâd seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. âBut if I see you lazing around, Iâll put my dagger through your foot.â
There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him.Â
âSunny.â He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, âThis is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.â
You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, âHey, Annabeth.â You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you.Â
Luckily she nodded, âHi. You better be good with that spear.â
âIâd like to think I am.â You joked. She didnât laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing youâd been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, âI think she gets her stoic indifference from you.âÂ
He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, âYeah. Sheâs a firecracker.â He looked at you firmly, âThink youâll be good for this game? Itâs not too late to back out.â
You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, âYou just want an excuse to use this instead of me. Iâm fine, JoJo.â
He raised a single brow, âFine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, Iâm not gonna kiss your wounds better.â
You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, âYou wouldnât be able to hold back.â
He laughed, hand on heart, âRight.âÂ
You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasnât made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didnât stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought.Â
You wouldâve practised the whole time had it not started raining â something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could justâŚmake it rain, but you went along with it. Youâd only been a demigod for a week after all.Â
Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night â you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up.Â
You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, âStolls. What do you want?â
A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, âBold to assume we want anything.âÂ
âI mean, we do.â Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. âOw! Asshole.â
âCut to it.â You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless.Â
âWellâŚâ Connor started.Â
âLuke put us on second offence.â Travis continued.Â
âBut we sorta hate doing second offence.âÂ
âYeah, itâs way too much work.â
Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, âAnd we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.â
âSo you wanna swap spots?â You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, âOk, first of all, thereâs two of you and one of me. Youâll have to find someone else to swap with too.â
âAlready done.â Travis nodded, âSabine loves second offence.â
âSecond of all,â You sent them firm looks, âLuke isnât going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.â
âWhich is why we arenât telling them.â Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like heâd presented you with the best idea ever conjured, âLuke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.â
âPlus,â Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, âThis is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.â
âYeah, Lukeâs had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.â Connor raised a teasing brow, âWhy not show him what youâre made of?âÂ
You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word.Â
The rain hadnât settled â Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasnât too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket â Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldnât keep up with her Iâm too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you!Â
âWelcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!â Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. âThe usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!âÂ
There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded â they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.
âHey.â Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, âYou got this, Sunny.â
You nodded, âDamn right I do.âÂ
It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldnât hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same.Â
It wasnât long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, âShove off, punks.â
Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters.Â
âStupid kids. Canât be trusted on last offence let alone second. Itâs not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.â
You didnât bother responding â whether you were going to agree or come to Lukeâs defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look.Â
âThose Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.â Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder.Â
The twins didnât question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone.Â
Then it was a waiting game.Â
âFuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.âÂ
Evie scoffed, shaking her head, âNo. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.âÂ
Sabine hummed, âNo. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.â
You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer.Â
âNo, see ââ You huffed, âI couldnât marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.â
âBut we all agree on killing Hermes, right?â Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, âOk. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis andâŚHypnos.âÂ
There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay â Heâd fall asleep halfway through! â but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, sheâd never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other peopleâs conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees.Â
Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side.Â
Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves.Â
A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action â you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height.Â
Youâd seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucksâŚfucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too.Â
But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again.Â
Briefly, you could hear your peersâ own battles. There werenât any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lightning, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldnât land that second hit.Â
Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear.Â
The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks. Â
Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more.Â
Youâd completely forgotten you werenât alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head.Â
There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers â the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse â the blue team's flag in hand. They werenât moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.
Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, âMove!â
And they did. Even when the blue team kids youâd been fighting before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory.Â
They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations â the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it.Â
Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, âI donâtâŚI donât know what happened, it just ââ
But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasnât looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else.Â
When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed â how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you.Â
You almost missed Chiron's next words, Â
âZeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.â He shouted your name, but it didnât feel right in your ears, âDaughter of the Sky God.â
When you couldnât stand the sight of it â when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they werenât staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud.Â
After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped.Â
The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears â you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldnât answer that.Â
They Iris-Messaged your mother â who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. Sheâd had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most.Â
âThis new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.â Was one of the last things he said, âBut you should be fine, since youâre seventeen.â
âWhy does me being seventeen mean anything?âÂ
Zeusâ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if youâre only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if youâre planning on living there. There werenât any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didnât have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head â he could smite you for it, you didnât really care anymore.Â
You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room â you thought theyâd have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them â and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door.Â
It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, âHi.â
She smiled back, full of pity, âHey. Just thought Iâd come check on you, we havenât seen you in hours.â
âI didnât like them staring at me.â You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.Â
âYeah, I get that.â Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, âBut, um, itâs dinner right about now. WannaâŚcome with?â
You didnât really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, âSure.âÂ
The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something â maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we canât be friends anymore because youâre forbidden. You didnât stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged.Â
You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadnât seen him all day, he hadnât seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt.Â
So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont.Â
You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry.Â
People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didnât look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt.Â
âWhat the hell, man?â He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, âYouâve changed, bro. And not for the better.â
Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction â and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed.Â
He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into thatâŚthing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow.Â
He turned to you, âWhat?â
You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, âIâŚuhâŚâ
Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, âGo to the campfire.â
âWhat â?â
âGo to the campfire.â He was backing away, âEntertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I donât know. Do something, but donât do it here.âÂ
You werenât having that. Your gaze hardened, âHey. Youâre not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.â
âI ââ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. âYou disappeared.â
âI was in the Big House, being interrogated.â You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, âI wouldâve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.âÂ
He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, âIâm your best friend?âÂ
You cracked a tiny smile, âOf course you are, idiot.âÂ
His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. âI donât hate you.â He said, âI donât care that Zeus is your dad. Itâs justâŚâ
âHe forgot about me.âÂ
âWhat?â
You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what youâd been avoiding since you left the Big House, âZeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.âÂ
Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her.Â
âIâm sorry for avoiding you.â He said in a low murmur. âThalia was a friend of mine and Annabethâs. Brought back some rough memories.âÂ
âOh.â You breathed, âOh, gods. Iâm so sorry.âÂ
You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didnât like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldnât help it â you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears.Â
Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling.Â
Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You werenât forbidden enough for them, apparently.Â
âSorry for shoving Chris.â He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, âHe was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying butâŚâ
âI donât care.â
His lips shut with a smack, âWhat?â
You let out a sad chuckle, âBe miserable. I donât care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Yâknow? This isnât the happiest life.âÂ
Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. Youâd let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears.Â
You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier.Â
âAnna Banana.â Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, âWhat are yaâ doing over here?â
The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, âSo, youâre Zeusâ kid.â
âYup.â
âI knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.â She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. âIâm sorry.â
âItâs okay.â You shrugged â it wasnât anyoneâs fault but Zeusâ. You sent her a kind smile.Â
She returned it, glancing at Luke then, âDonât call me that.âÂ
He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, âYou were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.â
âMaybe they could.â You nodded.Â
She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, âShe likes me.âÂ
He smiled fully, amused, âShe does.â
âYou like me.â
A little sheepish, âI do.â
âSo who cares if daddy dearest doesnât?â You settled on, tilting your head, âWe got each other.âÂ
Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.
đˇď¸ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didnât work idk whatâs going on)
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