#the thief fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr.com is the 103rd most visited website in the world.

delusionsofgrandeur13 · 1 month

Text

you’re borrowing your boyfriend!jason todd’s…

hoodie

it’s big, it’s warm, and it smells like your big warm boyfriend. of course you stole it. luckily jason runs hot..or that’s what he tells you at least. the man gets cold too, but he’d never tell you that. not when you look so cozy in his sweatshirt.

sweats

your favorite thing of his to match with his hoodie. his sweatpants are super warm, super soft, and super baggy. meant for ultimate comfort. jason loves it when you go full out sweatsuit in his clothes. like, loves it. you’re like his own personal teddy bear to hold on to while he falls asleep. who needs sweats when he has you to keep him warm..in his.

t shirt

sometimes, when the weather’s warmer, you’ll steal one of jason’s shirts to thrown on over a pair of panties. you’re oblivious to the fact that this combination makes jason go absolutely buck wild. somehow you’ve never made the connection. but more than once he’s found you sprawled across the couch, watching tv, and ended up going down on you. his head nestled between your thighs as you grip his raven locks. his hands are fisted into the loose fabric of his shirt that you’re wearing. he’s not satisfied until your legs are shaking, your moans intermingling with the wet, borderline pornographic, sounds that he’s creating with his mouth on your clit. he never lets you get him back either, even though you know he was grinding his crotch against the couch, chasing that sweet friction and release along with you. but he always just sits you atop his lap after, kissing your cheek as he brushes your hair out of your face. grips your thigh as he makes a comment about the show playing, your panties long forgotten on the floor.

underwear

you never get very far wearing a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers. for one, they’re pretty loose on you, so you have to roll the waistband a couple times, which just gives jason a prime view of your ass. they also just make it so easy for him to get his hand down the front, his strong fingers expertly finding your clit like he’s memorized a map of your body. which, in some ways, he has. it’s not long before you’ve come, once, twice, almost a third time, and he’s pulling his own boxers off to free his stiff cock. it points out, the tip leaking, and you’re opening your legs wider without even realizing it. he grabs your waist, sliding you closer to the edge of the bed, making sure you’re ready before he slides in, burying himself in you. he bottoms out, and you’re throwing your head back, a third orgasm threatening to crest as he starts up a rhythm. the muscles of his stomach ripple as he thrusts in and out. one of his hands is on your waist, the other slowly snaking its way back down to your clit. your toes curl at the feel of his calloused thumb rubbing circles on that sensitive bundle of nerves. he’s groaning, low in his throat, at the way you look on his cock. it never gets old for him, ever. the way your cheeks flush, how adorable your blown out pupils are when you look up at him. your wet lashes, your messy hair. your entrance clenches around his cock as you come a third time, your hands gripping the bed sheets. jason comes along with you, groaning loudly as he paints your insides with white ropes of cum. he pulls out, wetting a washcloth in the bathroom. the wet, warm fabric feels like heaven against your sensitive folds, your boyfriend wiping away the mixture of fluids between your legs. you feel pleasantly boneless, sinking into the pillows at the head of the bed. your boyfriend cleans himself up after, settling into bed next to you. jason wraps his strong arms around you, and it’s better than any clothes you might steal. but what you don’t know, is that he’d let you steal his clothes anytime.

2K notes · View notes

calliopeslyrics · 1 month

Text

firegirl

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Hephaestus! reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: mention/description of drowning, very little angst.

summary: in which a date by the lake goes wrong, including a lack of swim lessons and tearful confessions.

You’d heard about the stories of the god’s wrath. Hera’s jealousy, Demeter’s wrath, Aphrodite’s envy - your mother had warned you through the tales of Psyche and Io and Persephone long since you were a child wading through fire. A child born of ash and fire, that was what you were. A force of destruction, born only to create with the very hands that burn through flesh and blood.

The stories didn’t mean much at the time, ancient tales of caution now serving as bedtime stories for a little girl that refused to sleep due to constant nightmares. But you should’ve paid better attention, should’ve noticed the urgency in your mothers tone when she warned you again and again that the gods are not forgiving gods.

But maybe facing a jealous goddess’s wrath was better than any other gift your father had given you. Blessed with the knowledge of forgery and fire, you should’ve known that you’d have to stay away from large bodies of water unless you wanted to turn a pool into a hot tub.

You never really learned to swim, not in the way that counted. Sure, you knew how to hold your breath and doggy paddle from one end to another, but your expertise in swimming never extended past the basics. It was something you weren’t so keen on sharing, not when everyone knows how to swim.

When you were smaller, taking a bath meant going outside and having your mom spray you with the hose before you could turn the water to steam. Pool days meant dipping your toes and fingers in the water, and nothing else.

You can look, but don’t touch, your mom had told after one particular accident. It was your cousin’s birthday party, another pool party to relax during the sweltering days of summer. While your cousins and their friends played chicken and cannonball into the water, you stayed at the edge of the pool, watching and just wishing to feel more than a droplet of water splash onto you.

The gods must have heard your wishing because the next thing you knew, you were submerged into water. Little six year old you in six feet deep water, what could go wrong? You don’t remember much from that day, only that you screamed and splashed and cried and soon the other kids screamed and splashed around you too.

It wasn’t until later that you learned that due to an overheating issue in the pool’s pipes, the pool’s water began to heat up until it was as boiling as the hot tub. A freak accident, the pool company called it after getting bombarded with angry parents threatening to sue. You also learned more years later that your panicked state brought that pool to its near boiling temperature.

From that day forward, your mom made a strict rule - no more pool parties, no more swim lessons, and no more unnecessary contact with water. It was too dangerous, she said. And you were too young to argue, so you agreed.

It wasn't until you arrived at Camp Half Blood when you realized how much you were missing out because of that rule. The camp itinerary was filled with fun activities that had dangerous monsters sprinkled in between the activities - perfect for someone who has no idea what world they've gotten themselves into.

There was pegasus riding in the morning, then water balloon fights between cabins, some days had sword practice against some monsters in the forest, then a lunch break while the satyrs played ancient songs on their pipes. You often watched other campers jump into the lake during the hot summer days, wondering if you’d ever get to swim freely like they do.

You quickly learned the dynamic within the camp, at how quickly your life can change with a simple symbol. The day that a fiery hammer hovered over your head was the day that you realized you weren’t alone. Your absent father wasn’t a piece of shit that couldn’t afford child support but the god of fire and forgery - Hephaestus.

All the weird coincidences in your life seemed to make sense. Your constant sweating and overly warm body, your skill with handiwork despite having no experience with tools - it was in your blood to create dangerous flames, to burn and rebuild in the same breath.

The other children of Hephestus didn’t seem to mind having an addition to their cabin, welcoming you with open arms that were stained with grease and oil. They were the siblings you never had, your quirks within the outside world becoming a norm within Cabin 9.

No one seemed to mind the constant overheating from their bodies or the unfinished projects that were scattered along the floor, no one made a face at the sweat that slipped down your face from a hard day’s work of building and destroying and rebuilding again. It was like you could finally belong somewhere, maybe you could even call it a home.

Your siblings never complained about the countless forgery, the mixture of sweat and smoke clinging onto your clothes. There were more days where grease stained your hands and face, which left you in a sour mood after laundry duty, or when you wished you could skip dinner to finish this project because you’re so close to getting it to work.

Overalls and aprons became your favorite items to wear, your pockets filled with scraps of metal and loose screws that you’ve scrapped from the other cabins. You’ve learned how to

But despite the warm welcome you received from your siblings and the amazing cabin life you adapted to, you could never shake the jealousy within you when it came to lake days. You’d often spend your time watching the campers with a longing gaze, wishing you could join them in the cool water that left them squealing and laughing when they touched the water.

Luke had suggested you spend time in the lake with him for the afternoon, saying something about needing a day to yourselves. And you agreed - most days seemed to blur together after an influx of Ares children played too roughly amongst themselves. Shields and spears needed modifications, swords needed to be resharpened, even armor needed to be fixed from some mysterious stabbings that appeared along the chest plates.

So there you were, standing just a couple feet away from the lake, towel in hand as if you were ever going to get into the water. Luke wasted no time getting ready for his swim, as evident by the smears of sunscreen along his nose and cheeks that hadn’t been smoothed properly.

There was something about the lake that always had Luke acting excited. Maybe it was because he could step away from his duties, dropping the mask of confidence that he carried around the younger campers. Or maybe it was the sense of normalcy the lake brought, as if you weren’t demigods fighting for your lives everyday and just a couple of normal teenagers enjoying a hot summer day.

“Aren’t you going to get in?” Luke asked, his calm tone bringing you out of your thoughts. He gave you a questioning glance at your attire, a simple once over before raising an eyebrow at you. You were still dressed in your camp shirt and shorts, stained with grease and oil from your morning in the forgery.

You shook your head, giving Luke a sympathetic smile. “I can’t.” you said simply, brushing at the stains in your shirt as if it were the only thing stopping you from swimming. Your towel laid limp in your hold, still folded from the years of sitting in your closet, and you made a mental note to throw it out one of these days.

Luke still doesn’t know of your mother’s rule or the pool incident all those years ago - mostly because you just didn’t know how to tell him and because he never asked. There was hardly a day where you could have a day to yourselves as demigods, constantly preparing for war against monsters and gods and each other. Swimming seemed like the least of your worries when Zeus was threatening to smite down a certain demigod when his lightning bolt went missing.

“You don’t know how to swim?” Luke snorted, giving you a disbelieving look. He was the one to suggest a pool date in the first place and while you were inclined to agree because you do love seeing Luke shirtless, you soon began to wonder if you should’ve declined his offer.

You rolled out your beach towel, a burnt orange color similar to your camp shirt, and sat stubbornly in the middle. You left your sandals on the grass, enjoying the slight freedom from the You didn’t bother shrugging off your clothes despite your swim suit underneath, it’s not like you’d get it wet anyway.

You can look, but don’t touch.

“Fire and water don’t mix well, Luke.” you scowled, crossing your arms defensively. You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you knew it wouldn’t be long before your body began to heat up as well. In an attempt to distract yourself, you grabbed a small bottle of sunscreen from your bag, relishing in the coolness of the cream as you applied it to your arms and legs. “It’s basic science, you nerd.”

Luke raised his hands in mock surrender, casually tugging his Camp Half Blood shirt off and tossing it by his shoes. He was always so comfortable in his body, his sleeves usually rolled up to his shoulders to show off his biceps that were toned from years worth of training. And though you’ve been dating for a while now, you tried not to stare at his defined stomach, at how his biceps casually flexed with every movement.

Luke cleared his throat, and you quickly looked away from his body, catching his gaze instead. “Like what you see?” he asked teasingly, giving you a suggestive smirk. You playfully scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from Luke to hide your own smile.

It’s been two years since you first started dating Luke and yet he still tries to court and flirt with you like the first day you met. His ego was constantly inflated with your stares and small flirtatious quips, though you loved to act annoyed at how easily he revels in your attention. Lingering touches and lovesick glances was the trademark of your relationship with Luke, most dates filled with sneaking away from your camp to escape the reality of your lives.

“You wish, Castellan.” You huffed, slowly toeing your own shoes off. You didn’t mind not knowing how to swim, you never needed it growing up. Instead of swim lessons, your mom put you in welding and crafting lessons. Instead of wading through the deep end of pools, you learned how much heat you could handle from a fire before you could feel the burn.

You never complained about your lack of experience, it didn’t seem like something worth complaining about. But now, as the summer days started to grow hotter and hotter, you started to envy anyone who could splash around in the lake.

Luke shrugged, taking no mind to your tone and immediately getting into the water. He let out a satisfied groan at the temperature, wadding further and further into the water until it was up to his waist. You watched with a smile as Luke let himself get used to the water, occasionally trying to float when the sun wasn’t in his face.

“Are you sure you don't want to come in? The water is soooo nice” Luke looked up at you from his spot in the lake, his hair already sopping wet from his plunges underwater. It took all of your strength not to let your gaze wander along his chest, down further to his abs before the water obstructed your view.

You gave him a reassuring smile and nodded, casually toeing the water as if you were checking the temperature. The cold water of the lake stung at first, always clashing with the overly warmness of your body. But after keeping your feet dipped in the water. It felt nice, refreshing even, to feel the biting cold of the water against the heat of your skin.

For a second, you forgot that you were the daughter of the fire god, blessed with eternal warmth and cursed with hotheadedness. You were just another body in the water, enjoying the refreshing cold the water offered after a long day’s work of crafting. The water seemed to call to you, inviting you closer to the crystal clear deep of the lake, promising an ice cold plunge that would soothe your aching muscles.

A splash of cold water to your face brought you back to reality, and you opened your eyes to glare at the perpetrator. Instead of facing your annoying boyfriend, you found yourself face to face with a guilty looking son of Poseidon.

Percy Jackson winced at your glare, giving you an awkward wave. The water was at his shoulders, though the boy seemed to have no trouble standing along the deep end with your boyfriend. You waved back, giving the boy a small smile while he streamed out his apologies as quickly as he could.

“I meant to hit Luke, I swear!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. Another wave followed his hands movements and splashed you again, drenching your clothes in ice cold water. You wiped your hair from your face, letting out a hiss at the freezing sensation, but gave the boy a dismissive wave. “Sorry! Sorry again!”

“Percy, stop drenching my girlfriend,” Luke said with a laugh, splashing water onto the boy. The water moved around Percy smoothly, as though the waves had a mind of its own, and crashed upon another camper nearby. In retaliation, Percy swept more water towards Luke, still splashing you with droplets whenever Luke dodged and moved around to avoid the water.

Though you couldn’t join them, you enjoyed watching Luke relax on days like this - where his duties as cabin counselor didn’t weigh on him and he didn’t have to worry about accommodating another unclaimed child in his already crammed cabin. Instead, he was roughhousing with Percy, now determined to win whatever made up game they had thought of.

“I didn’t mean to!” Percy exclaimed, still waving his hands around. Stronger waves surged towards you, hitting you with more force until you were soaking wet along the edge of the lake. Luke laughed and launched at the boy, wading deeper and deeper along the lake until Percy disappeared beneath the water and reappeared somewhere else.

You don’t remember what happened next.

One moment, Luke is splashing more water onto Percy and you’re laughing at how they’re moving within the water. Then in another a giant wave rushes at you, immediately pulling you deep into the water. Your surprised gasp is muffled by the sound of moving water and before you knew it, you were engulfed by the freezing sensation all around you.

The water was cold, ice cold, stinging your entire body with the freezing temperature as you fought against the invisible force in the water. You opened your mouth to scream, to call for Luke or Percy or anyone that could help, but water filled your mouth and lungs and all you could do was panic. Above you, you could see Luke and Percy halt in their roughplaying, their bodies still as you struggled underwater.

Swim, you needed to swim.

But you didn’t know how, didn’t know anything other than to frantically kick at the water, your arms reaching out for something, someone to hold onto. The pounding in your head wouldn’t stop as you tried to push your way up, towards the surface that seemed to move further and further away from your reach.

You can look, but don’t touch, those mocking words echoed in your mind once again, taunting you. A small part of you wanted to give up, there was no point in fighting a losing battle. But as you kicked at the water, pushing yourself up,up,up against the numbing water, you wondered how much longer you could struggle before anyone would help.

Panic clawed at your chest as the roaring of the waves crashed over you again and again. Your lungs burned, your heart pounding wildly with fear at the prospect that you might not be able to make it to the surface. You could hear the muffled shouting from above, the sound of someone shouting your name though you could barely hear it.

A disgruntled sound came from your mouth, weak and sad, as your arms and legs burned in agony with every movement. The burning in your lungs only grew and the salty taste in your mouth made you want to gag as you slowed your flailing to a stop. You weren’t sure if you were crying or if your eyes were burning from the water, you couldn’t tell anymore when all you could do was let yourself sink slowly to the bottom.

All you could do was stare at the surface, watching the light slowly dim as the silhouettes above you rushed towards you. You thought of Luke, how he wanted to have a lake party with his girlfriend before the last days of summer ended. Was that his voice calling out your name, or were you starting to hallucinate? You weren’t sure anymore, not when the water numbed your entire body and the cold turned into a comforting feeling of nothingness all around you.

Maybe your mother was wrong, you thought as your eyes closed, maybe the water wasn’t so bad after all. A rushing sound of water filled your ears, or maybe that was another thing your mind was making up. Maybe you could rest for a bit, let your body relax before you’d swim back to the surface.

Rest - rest was good you decided. With the last bit of consciousness that you had, you thought of Luke one more time before everything faded to black, and your body felt like the nothingness that surrounded you.

Pressure against your chest was the first thing you felt, the thump, thump, thump of something against your chest in a rhythmic beat crushing your chest. It continued in a familiar pattern, thump, thump, thump until more pressure filled your throat and lungs - air.

You woke up with a start, sitting upright and spitting out water you didn’t know you had in your mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you coughed, air finally filling your lungs again as you took in deep, wild breaths. The lights were too bright, blinding you are you tried to take in your surroundings, searching for something familiar to ground you.

The sound of murmuring surrounded you, and you found yourself staring at concerned campers still clad in their swimwear and summer clothes. Sandy blonde hair, deep tans, some with freckles and others with almost glowing eyes - you recognized them as the children of Apollo, all watching you from their spots around your cot.

“What happened?” you rasped, glancing up at the closest person around you - a boy around Percy’s age with a grim look on his face. You recognized him from some of the games, he was more known for his healing skills than anything though he was equally as dangerous with a bow. But you couldn’t remember his name, not when the slight ringing in your ears filled your head.

The boy sighed, wiping his brow as he shooed the rest of the onlookers away. The children of Apollo murmured amongst themselves as they were ushered away, concerned glances cast your way as you watched the boy move with authority. Though he was shorter than some of his siblings, the blond carried himself as if he were wiser beyond his years.

You almost felt bad for him, seeing the same weight of responsibility that constantly hounded Luke crash upon the boy, probably more with the responsibility to heal the wounded. If he had any sense of resentment for his job, the head counselor didn’t show it, save for the tired look on his face once the final camper left your cot.

You attempted to lift yourself from your cot, barely bringing your legs over the edge before hissing in pain. Soreness shot from your thighs down to your calves, and you dug the palms of your hands into the soft mattress as you continued to move towards the edge.

As if realizing your plan, the blond rushed to the side of your cot, holding onto your shoulders in warning. Though he was younger, the child of Apollo was not weak. His grip tightened on your shoulder, as if holding you in place, and you didn't dare challenge his hold. He stared at you, blue eyes daring you to move any closer to the edge, and you felt compelled to heed the hidden warning in his gaze.

“You drowned, I don’t even think calling you lucky is the right thing to describe your situation.” he said softly, his grip never loosening. He reminded you of those doctors you see on those dramatic shows back at home, with a stern and yet disappointed look on his face that made him look older than he really was. “I don’t know how long you were out, but you didn’t have a pulse when they brought you here…” He trailed off, and you sunk into your bed at the realization that you were more than just unconscious. Gods, you almost died drowning. An embarrassed flush spread at your cheeks at the image of the younger campers watching you horribly flail around in the water. You made a mental note to look for swimming lessons from the naiads around the lake, as if they’d be more help than the only child of Poseidon in camp.

“Is Luke-”

“He’s taking a break, he’s been here since you got here.” he said, his light blue eyes gleaming with a knowing look. You let out a small sigh of relief, falling back into the soft pillows of the Apollo cabin’s cot. The pain in your arms and legs had now dulled to soreness, and you knew you’d have to take it easy for the next few days until you could return to the forgery again.

The camper didn’t say anything else as he rummaged through the cabinets and drawers of the healing station. You’re not sure how long you were out for, and a small part of you was too afraid to ask. The knowledge of the time that passed while the children of Apollo tried to bring you back to consciousness made your head feel dizzy and something like bile threatened to rise at the thought of Luke seeing you like that.

Sometime later, the familiar sound of the dinner bell rang throughout camp. Voices all flooded outside the cabin, conversations carrying into your side of the Apollo cabin as the campers made their way to the dining pavilion. You’re pretty sure you heard your name in a couple of the conversations, and you turned away from the window to avoid the wandering gazes of the curious campers walking by.

The door to the cabin opened and the setting sun’s light peered into the cabin, bringing a dramatic backlight to whoever entered. You tilted your head towards the light, eyes blinking at the golden light as you took in the silhouette of none other than your boyfriend.

Ah, Will Solace, you suddenly remembered the familiar freckles and subtle Texan accent that could only belong to one child of Apollo here. You’ve seen him run throughout camp a couple times, sometimes wandering close to

“She’s been up for some time,” Will murmured, more to Luke than you. Luke mumbled something to Will before moving past the boy, walking up to your cot, pressing his fingers against your palm before gently brushing his thumb against your cheek. You leaned into his soft touch, glancing up at him for the first time since the incident.

“Hi,” you whispered softly, looking up at Luke with a sudden shyness. Part of you wanted to hide under your covers, to pretend that you lost your memory and conveniently forgot everything that happened at the lake. But the bloodshot red in Luke’s eyes and slight frown on his lips had a pang of hurt echo throughout your chest at the realization of just how devastating Luke looked.

“Hi,” he whispered back, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, looking away slightly while he blinked his tears away, and you glanced at your hands instead. You gave him the time he needed, holding his hand with shaking fingers and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry for….everything.”

You frowned at Luke’s words, at the sullen look in his face and guilt in his tone. He was always so quick to blame himself when things went wrong, so selfless and yet selfishly taking the blame. It was the burden he always seemed to carry as one of the eldest campers, to accept more and more responsibility until the weight broke you down.

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly. Guilt lay heavy in your words, at your own fault for scaring Luke this way. But he needed comfort, he needed you just as much as you needed him right now, and you were okay with ignoring what happened if it meant that Luke would calm down.“It was an accident, that’s all.”

Luke continued, as if he didn’t hear you, his words coming out in a jumbled stream of panicked breaths. You could practically see his train of thought, the anxious thoughts leading with what if, what if, what if, pulling him down a rabbit hole of worse and worse situations. “I should’ve known. I wasn’t thinking and next thing I knew, you were underwater-”

“Luke,” you said sternly, dropping his hand. He turned towards you, that same sad look still in his eyes, now amplified at your tone. Gods, what you would give to make it go away, to make him laugh once more and see that stupid smile you love so much. “I’m okay. I just can’t swim, it’s not a big deal.”

Luke blinked, the only indication of surprise he’d give you. You could see the internal battle within him, forcing him to choose one or the other - to scold or cry, to hold or push away.

“You didn’t have a pulse.” Luke said at last. His eyes were full of tears and when he looked at you, you saw fear, true fear in Luke’s eyes. Luke, who never hesitated to break up a brawl between campers, who wasn’t afraid to speak of his father with spite and venom in his voice. Luke, the greatest man you’ve ever known, regardless of his demigod status or parentage, was afraid. “When we got you back on land, you didn’t have a pulse.”

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. There were so many things to say, comforting words mixed with a thousand apologies, but you couldn’t find the words. Today was an accident, but you were here, you were okay.

“I started CPR, but you never…” he cleared his throat and blinked at the tears despite the fact that they’ve fallen down his cheeks already. You lifted a hand to his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing away the tears and tracing down the scar that bore down his face. He was always so brave, but a small part of you wondered if you truly scared Luke for the first time in your relationship. “It wasn’t until Will got to you and started doing compressions, you finally started to regain consciousness.”

“I thought I lost you,” he admitted. You didn’t say anything, letting the words settle within you. Luke looked up at you, lips trembling and tears falling. His confident cool-guy persona was gone, the mask finally broken and revealing Luke’s vulnerable side, the one he kept so secretly hidden from everyone in his life. “I don’t...I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Luke’s shoulders slumped, as if his confession had been weighing on him the entire time. You patted your hand at the now empty space on the other side of your cot, smoothing out the blanket’s wrinkles. Luke looked up at you, as if asking for permission, and you nodded.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you said softly, scooting towards the edge of your cot and looking up at Luke expectantly. Luke just stood by the side, watching you with caution, as if he were afraid you were going to fall unconscious once again. You tried to ignore the pang of hurt that echoed in your chest at his stillness. “You’re stuck with me, Castellan. Forever and ever.”

Gently, Luke settled into the space next to you, shifting his body ever so slightly to avoid the creaking of the cot beneath you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body until you could rest your head on his chest. You nestled into his embrace, the solid warmth of his chest offering solace in the empty room around you.

His heart beat in a soft and steady rhythm, the faint ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum of his heartbeat bringing a soothing comfort only Luke could ever bring. It was your favorite sound - the promise of his eternal devotion, the reminder that he’s just as okay as you are.

“No more lake days.” Luke murmured more to himself, his voice a soft whisper against your neck. His breath felt warm against your skin, and you shifted slightly in Luke’s hold to look at him better.

Dark, curly hair swept along his forehead, nearly covering his eyes. You brushed his hair away from his face, fingers gently playing with his curls. But it was his eyes that truly captivated you - pools of soft brown that gazed at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, drawing you into their depths like a moth to a flame.

In their depths, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling - love, longing, and a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath the surface. It was as if his eyes held the secrets to his soul, bared for you and you alone to see.

As Luke looked at you now, his gaze soft and full of affection, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. In the soft brown of Luke’s eyes was the reflection of your own love, mirrored back to you in all its raw and unbridled beauty.

You hummed in response, stretching your arms out to wrap them around his broad shoulders. His arms flexed as he held you tightly, as if he were afraid to ever let go, and you didn’t mind. “No more lake days.”

You laid entwined in each other’s arms, the weight of today’s actions leaving your mind. Tomorrow, you’d ask Percy for swim lessons and maybe offer some food to Poseidon as an apology. You’d definitely thank Will Solace later, maybe with a handmade gift that could hold his medical instruments.

But for now, you were content laying with Luke, the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulling you to a dreamless slumber.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #charlie bushnell #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #the lightning thief #au where luke isn't evil because i wish things were better for him #luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke pjo

512 notes · View notes

buddie-buddie · 1 month

Text

“So,” Buck says, blinking up at Tommy. He still hasn’t gotten over how good that feels– looking up at his partner. Being with someone whose warm, protective hand settles on the small of his back and nearly spans the distance between his hips. Someone whose big, strong arms envelop him when they hug, someone who can tuck Buck into his chest almost effortlessly. Someone who makes him feel grounded, protected, safe. In more ways than one.

“So,” Tommy returns the word, accompanying it with a warm smile, the kind that reaches all the way to his eyes and makes them sparkle as he looks down at Buck.

“You met my parents,” Buck says with a laugh, because really– how could he not? It’s a little ridiculous, now that he’s saying it out loud. “On our third date.”

Tommy nods, leaning against the wall outside of Buck’s front door. “Mhmmm,” he hums, watching Buck with a fond smile as he fumbles for his keys. “Sure did.”

It takes a minute, but Buck finally manages to get his keys out of his pocket and into the lock. Tommy is nothing but patience and fondness, watching him with a sparkle in his eye that makes Buck feel warm all over. When he finally gets the door open, Buck’s chest swells as Tommy’s big hand comes out to hold the door open for him, nodding for him to head inside first.

That’s a first. Buck’s stomach flips, a warm, pleasant feeling skating across his skin as he pulls his key from the lock and steps inside. It’s the same feeling he had on their first date when Tommy pulled out his chair before he sat down. The same one he had the first time Tommy texted him Be safe at the start of a shift.

A smile tugs at his lips as Tommy follows him into his apartment and the door clicks shut behind him. There’s something so simple about it, something so mundane and normal and domestic that it makes Buck’s head spin and his heart pound against his ribcage in the very best way. He wants this again. And again, and again, and again. Wants to come home with Tommy. Come home to Tommy. Wants the door to close behind them, wants to leave the world outside and exist only in this world here, in the one with the warm glow of the kitchen lights casting shadows on Tommy’s face as he toes his shoes off beneath the bike that hangs on Buck’s wall. The one where he pulls two beers out of the fridge and sets them on the counter, and Tommy opens them wordlessly, the silence comfortable as it stretches between them. The one where the necks of their bottles clink and their knuckles brush and Buck’s skin hums and his heart sings from just one small taste of Tommy’s skin against his.

Buck’s the one to break the easy, comfortable silence. He does it with a small laugh, just shy of a giggle, as he thinks back to the look on his mother’s face when he walked into Chim’s hospital room with Tommy by his side and she connected the dots. “You were covered in soot.”

“Wasn’t the only one,” Tommy points out, grinning against the lip of his beer bottle as he takes another sip.

keep reading on ao3

#my writing #7x06 coda #911 spoilers #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #tevan #kinley #kinkley #bucktommy fic #listen #i would like five (5) minutes in the writer's room #just long enough that i can push my hunky 6ft tall barbies together and yell “KISS!"#and then make them talk about it and hold each other like they're precious little things #and then i will be gone like a thief in the night i promise #ryan and tim pls consider tysm

578 notes · View notes

helpallthenamesaretakenblog · 2 months

Text

the thing about people being creepy towards walker is. he goes to school with other kids his age. immature high schoolers his age who are on tiktok. imagine going to school with kids who probably see edits and countdowns of you on their fyp every day. kids who have read comments of girls thirsting over you. man at the end of the day, thats gotta be uncomfortable as hell interacting with them every day, even if you are media trained and whatnot. and im saying this as someone his age.

566 notes · View notes

utterlyazriel · 4 months

Text

—whom the shadows sing for (and the thief’s echoing hymn)

FIC MASTERLIST

A story about one shadowsinger who did his time in the Illyrian Mountains and one warrior waiting out her own— who will do anything to keep her wings… even if it means posing as a Male.

fem!reader, mulan-esque au

1. STRANGERS

Someone in the Illryian Mountains has been making a name for themselves— a bastard like Azriel and his brothers, ruffling the feathers of a war camp's Lord. But they seem to have no loyalty to the fighting legion, or much to anyone for that matter.

2. ALLIES

Azriel trains you and is particularly unforgivable about it. Together, you tackle tonics. Azriel ponders the unmistakable pull he feels and you try your best to keep your secret under wraps.

3. COMPANIONS

Azriel leaves for Velaris. You reflect on old choices and everything that you lead you to where you are now— and realise it's been awhile since you had anyone to miss.

4. FRIENDS

You return to regular training for the first time in a month. Azriel asks a favor from Rhys and finds you in a less than stellar condition when he returns to camp.

5. CONFIDANTS

You test out if your efforts with the tonics are worth anything and Azriel bestows you with a gift. He asks about the Blood Rite and you ponder the strange, golden thread you've been feeling in your chest. Disaster strikes when night falls.

6. BETRAYERS

A secret you vowed to never reveal gets uncovered and Azriel struggles as all he's known is turned on its head. An unfriendly adversary from the past comes knocking.

7. MATES

Azriel mourns a mistake that will haunt him for eternity as he races back to you. You play the leading role in one of your nightmares, but you can't seem to wake up.

8. STRANGERS (AGAIN)

You wake up somewhere entirely new, a long, long way from your home.

to be continued…

chapters 8/?

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel masterlist #whom the shadows sings for #whom the shadows sing for (and the thief’s echoing hymn)#masterlist #keeping it all in one place :D

409 notes · View notes

splitch-draws · 5 months

Text

My good friend @radical69rose got me into a Creek Trilogy, "The Thief" by @wintergrew on Ao3 a few months ago and 3 novel length books later, I'm in emotional shambles after finishing it recently.

I loved this fic SOO much so I'm gonna be drawing a LOT fanart for it!!

Starting off with the ending of the second book in the trilogy, "The Mage" because HOLY SHIT that went so hard!!! That's all I wanted to share for now but I have so many more scene redraws I gotta do 😁

#Thief fanart #south park #craig tucker #sp creek #tweek tweak #south park fanart #fanart #art #gay #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #this fic was so good bro i cant #feldspar #barbarian tweek #stick of truth

385 notes · View notes

sommerregenjuniluft · 1 month

Text

@jegulus-microfic may 11th & 13th - gentle & mischievous - 634words

bickering boyfriends~ <3

The thing about Regulus is that he’s a little thief.

A remote thief to be exact.

James plops down on the couch next to him and dumps the chocolates in his lap. He smacks a kiss against the side of his head and Regulus hums in appreciation.

His eyes are trained on the little baggie of M&Ms and James can’t help the smile tugging on his lips as Regulus crunches away happily.

“Brooklyn99?” James asks, flipping the remote once and burying his feet underneath Regulus’ blanket as well.

Regulus makes a grumbling noise and buries deeper into James’ chest.

James grins, “Modern Family?”

Regulus huffs and then turns to blink sweetly back up at him, voice all saccharine innocence, “Bridgerton?”

James groans, “Again?”

There’s a hand caressing down James’ abdomen, resting low just above his waistband. It’s distracting, sort of. Regulus twirls his fingers into the strings of James’ sweatpants, rosy lips contorted, “There’s a new spin off.”

James narrows his eyes. “I dunno.”

“It’s about the queen,” Regulus explains, nosing at the crook of James’ neck and eliciting a small shudder. One of James’ hands twists into the curls of his boyfriend’s dark hair, the other fisting the cushion.

“Baby,” he reprimands. Regulus is dangerously skilled at distracting James, pushing his buttons.

Regulus licks and James breath hitches and then he’s pulling him off gently.

Before James is even entirely back in the present he registers faint classical music in the background.

He whips to the screen and sees fancy dresses and a horse carriage.

James scowls. When he turns to glare at Regulus he’s already immersed into his show.

James clears his throat pointedly.

Regulus gives no reaction.

“Regulus, love?”

“Hm?”

“Where’s the remote?”

Regulus shrugs feebly, “Dunno.”

His voice is way too light. Faux innocence.

James hums, “So the TV just opened Netflix and chose Bridgerton all on its own, huh?”

Regulus makes a vague meh sound, “Y’know how electronics are these days. CIA listening and everything.”

“You-” James huffs, “baby, gimme the damn remote.”

“I don’t have it,” Regulus insists. “Now, shush.”

“Ohh,” James chuckles, “Oh, that’s how we’re gonna play it?”

“Play?” Regulus inquires, “I don’t know what you’re talking ab—James!”

James is too busy to respond, currently forging his way under Regulus’ blanket where James knows he’s hiding the remote.

“James, stop it! You’re invading my personal space! Stop—”

“Hand me the remote control, Reginald.”

“You’re violating,” Regulus growls, “my boundaries.”

“You’re violating my trust,” James counters.

“No!”

“Yes!” James volleys back, “Clearly you are, you little—”

“Ja-ames,” Regulus whines, still trying to fight him off, angling his body this way and that and hiding the device somewhere.

James lets himself fall back into the cushion, glowering at Regulus. “My love.”

“What?” Regulus bites out. He’s all flushed in the face, breathing shallowly.

James wants to snog him but his detest for 19th century drama wins, “I am trying to reason with you.”

“And I’m trying to watch this show.”

“I will cut the power cable.”

Regulus gasps dramatically. “You wouldn’t.”

James only raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Magically, the TV clicks off.

They’re pushed into immediate silence, both facing forward as they pout, shoulder against shoulder.

“Now what?” Regulus asks.

James looks over. Regulus’ cheeks are flushed angrily and his mouth is all twisted and teeth worrying the inside of his cheek.

“Look at me,” James orders softly and suddenly they’re nose to nose.

Regulus’ eyelids flutter, blinking him into focus. He blushes more deeply, eyes flitting down to James’ lips.

James slips into a grin.

Regulus blinks again, then scowls, “No.”

“Yes, baby,” James responds, cupping his jaw.

Their lips brush and James hears his boyfriend’s breath stutter. Victory.

Needless to say they get the hours of the evening filled just fine without any Netflix.

#im rewatching bridgerton (Again) with my mom and also thought regulus is 100% a remote thief #now we’re here #jegulus #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #starchaser #sunseeker #lune’s tiny fic

344 notes · View notes

blue-thief · 1 month

Text

still can't get over the fact that out of all the characters in blue lock. the only one who is confirmed to be an actual criminal. is MICHAEL FUCKING KAISER

#apparently i'm still not over this chapter #anyway there's so much fic potential behind the fact that kaiser was a thief. a decent one too #WAIT. MY USERNAME #blue lock #bllk #michael kaiser #blue lock spoilers #bllk spoilers

172 notes · View notes

cuubism · 2 years

Text

for @magnusbae

“Hob Gadling,” Dream says, and there’s a laugh deep in it, hidden in his eyes. “Am I to understand you’ve been engaging in petty theft?”

“I used to rob people on the road, and this surprises you?” says Hob, leaning against his kitchen counter. Then holds up a hand before Dream can respond. “Now, to be clear, my highwayman days are behind me. I’ve evolved. I’ve no interest in hurting people over riches. Also, would be bloody difficult to commit highway robbery nowadays.”

“I see you’ve thought it through,” says Dream from where he’s still lingering in the kitchen doorway. He clearly finds all of this highly amusing.

“I have, and rest assured, this theft was by no means petty. I’m pretty sure this is considered grand larceny.”

“Ah. I see it is no fun for you if decades of prison time are not on the line,” says Dream.

Hob winks at him. “Would you really let me go to prison for decades?”

Dream raises a haughty eyebrow. “I am your get-out-of-jail-free card?”

“Not getting caught is my get-out-of-jail-free card. You think I don’t know what I’m doing? You think I would do this for a lark without a plan?”

“Speaking frankly?” says Dream. “Yes.”

Hob laughs. “Alright, caught. But in my defense! It was for an important reason.”

Dream finally steps properly into the kitchen. “And what reason is that? I know you have no need for riches.”

“Wasn’t about need. Was only about charm. And getting in your good graces. And being the most irresistible and rakish boyfriend I can. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at me at that first, portentous meeting.”

He lets Dream step in, closer and closer, like a predator with its prey. Doesn’t move. “You wish to give me the scrappy bandit I apparently so desired back then?”

“No apparently about it,” says Hob, and oh, it’s fun to be bold with Dream, now that he feels reasonably sure of not scaring him off. “But it’s okay, because I was even more weak for the prissy lord that you were. You know how much you could have gotten me to do if only you’d asked?”

Dream is standing right before him now, crowding him against the counter. His eyes gleam in the dark. “Does that include grand larceny?”

Hob laughs and lays his hands on his sides, feeling the taught realness of him, so much more dangerous than he’d thought of the lord he’d met in that tavern, and so much more glorious for it. “And more.”

He fishes the ruby from his pocket, letting it dangle on its long chain and catch the kitchen lights. He dips his head low as he holds it out to Dream. “A token of my affection. For my lord.”

Dream lets the gem fall into his palm, examining the fine cut of it. It doesn’t have the darkness, the strange angles of his now-broken dreamstone, but it’s still a gorgeous gem. Deep wine red, bottomless depths within the facets. Like Dream himself.

“A token?” He echoes, lips tugging up in a smile. “A courtly gift for one you have no need to court?”

“A small gift for one I am endlessly devoted to,” Hob says, and Dream’s eyes meet his again. There’s a smile in them, now, a real one. The gem is worth a bloody fortune, but Dream cares not for the monetary value of things. This is about the symbol, the game, the effort of it, and it seems it’s landed.

He does like pretty things, too. Hob knows it well.

“Put it on me, then,” Dream says.

He ducks his head for Hob to clasp the chain around the back of his neck. Hob kisses his forehead when he’s done.

The ruby sits against his breastbone, shining against the bare skin at the center of the deep vee in his shirt.

Hob squints. He could have sworn Dream was wearing something with more coverage when he arrived. “Did you… change your shirt?”

Dream smirks. “Perhaps. Such art requires its proper canvas.”

“Cheeky. You’re right, though.” Hob admires it on him, and sighs. So worth it.

Dream kisses his cheek, like they really are courting and he’s shyly accepting the gift. Hob takes hold of his face and pulls him into a proper one, one that’ll leave his lips as red as the gem. God, he better be able to convince Dream into wearing that and nothing else in bed. That sounds like a good way to die, if he ever were to choose one.

“How’d you find out about this, anyway?” he asks, letting his hands wander to Dream’s hair to keep him close.

“Matthew. He admitted that he helped you.” He doesn’t sound too upset about it, fortunately, for Matthew’s sake.

Hob sighs. “I tried to keep his involvement quiet. Blabbermouth.”

“He had fun, apparently,” says Dream wryly.

“Hope you won’t punish him too much.”

Dream smirks. “Just a little.”

“Going to punish me, then?” Hob says. It's meant to be challenging but he can’t keep the grin off his face.

Dream pushes him against the counter, hands pressed tight to his hips. “Hmm.” His voice rumbles through Hob’s body. His eyes are alight with fondness and danger both, and a shiver runs up Hob’s spine. “Just a little.”

#magnusbae #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #1389 dreamling my beloved #thief hob my beloved

1K notes · View notes

mo-mode · 5 months

Text

Memes I Made for Son of Dionysus: Chapter 2

Spoilers, if that matters to you

Here are the links for Chapters 1 and 2 | Current word count is 11.4k

(Based on THIS post. If you are interested in writing your own version, feel free! Just please credit me.)

#percy jackson #pjo #son of dionysus au #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #percy jackson tv show #pjo spoilers #percy jackson the lightning thief #pjo series #pjo fic #mr d pjo #pjo dionysus #dionysus pjo #pjo fandom

625 notes · View notes

crocordile · 9 months

Text

Irene and Sophos enjoying some time off, an illustration inside my gift fic 'Between the mountains and the sea' for @saessenach for the @hamiathesgiftexchange!

#(I realize Irene shouldn't be holding a musket like it's a glock...but I thought it was funny so I kept it 🤭)#<< note contained inside the fic... I stand by it #queen's thief #a conspiracy of kings #saessenach #queue #hamiathes's gift exchange

216 notes · View notes

desertfangs · 6 months

Text

On the subject of how often Lestat mentions crying and weeping in The Vampire Lestat and Queen of the Damned, this exchange between Lestat and Louis in Tale of the Body Thief always cracks me up:

Lestat: "I'm going to weep if you don't stop." Louis: "Weep. I'd like to see you weep. I've read a great deal about your weeping in the pages of your books but I've never seen you weep with my own eyes." Lestat: "Ah, that makes you out to be a perfect liar. You described my weeping in your miserable memoir in a scene which we both know did not take place!"

It's a great lampshade on all his weeping, and it's a moment that exists because the books exist in-universe. I will always be absolutely feral for moments in the series that refer to the books.

#tale of the body thief #totbt #the tale of the body thief #vc meta #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #louis/lestat #loustat #vc quotes #queen of the damned #the vampire lestat #vc #vampire chronicles #the vampires arguing about their books gives me life tbh #in fic or canon really #anywhere i can get it

181 notes · View notes

helpallthenamesaretakenblog · 3 months

Text

I was thinking about if they made a sea of monsters musicals, and here are some song titles i came up with lol (in random order)

The Ballad of the Sirens (basically a bunch of harmonies of the sirens and annabeth singing about her vision with the end of the song being percy singing her out of it (bonus points if he's not harmonising with the sirens)(bonus points if percy calms annabeth down and they have a little harmony of their own but in a different key))

Best Man (im a little foggy about this but probably grovers song with a witty punchline like 'its too early for you to be my best man' while making jokes about asking percy to come to his wedding and save him)(it also ends with "ill come save you" "you're the best, man!")

The Guinea Pig Song (Squeak!) (just a 'lost' type of vibe with percy panic singing accompanied by lot of guinea pig squeaks)

Hangry! (basically the tantalus version of 'another terrible day')

A Good Monster (basically tysons song about how he lived alone on the streets, and about how he prayed to poseidon)(yes it is a direct parallel to good kid)

A Good Monster (Reprise)/My Baby Brother (consider this sung by percy at the end of the chariot race, same tune but happier lyrics about how tyson doesnt need to feel like a monster anymore)

War's Daughter (this is DEFINITELY clarisse's song, it could be her talking to ares or a little rumination after that conversation, talking about her arc and little hints of the prophecy she's not telling to the crew)

299 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

yiyiart01

⭑YiyiStar⭑

ambreignsfan4life

❤️💙Jey Uso / Roman Reigns obsessed 💙❤️

yeonjunheart

Yeonjun is my baby

karaspade

-KARA SPADE, WHO?-

saimanoj

Untitled