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#percy imagine
slytherinqueenrose · 1 year
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Shortie (Percy Hynes White)
Percy Hynes White x Short!Older!Reader
Warnings: Any except of my bad English.
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So basically it was my very first day on set and I wasn’t too familiar with the cast because we hadn’t have enough time to introduce to each other. Shooting of the upcoming second season of Wednesday began few days before I arrived so some of the cast had their scenes recorded already.
I‘be been observing the filming process while drinking a carton juice with a straw which looked pretty childish but I truly didn’t care about that. I was so thirsty that I could probably drink from anything.
And then something weird happened.
The medium length hair boy kneeled in front of me with a friendly smile on his face. Percy. He’s been wearing his Nightshades cloak and his mask was up so I had a clear view on his lovely face. He was beautiful, I must admit. But what the hell was he doing? Additionally Georgie was standing beside him burning holes in my face. In a good way of course. He seemed very friendly.
“Hello, pretty girl. How old are you and where are your parents?” He asked and I almost choked on my juice. Seriously? “I didn’t know we have children on set” He murmured to his friend and the other one nodded.
Being short may seem to be cool. You know, boys are always higher, even if you’re wearing heels. But it usually felt ridiculous when people thought I was a child. Most of them used to laugh at me as if it was possible for me to change it.
“Dude, what the fuck? I’m 23.” I said, furrowing my brows which caught him off guard. Oh I forgot to mention. I was actually a year older than him. Nobody would say though. I’ve been asked for my ID multiple times when buying alcohol. Having a baby face was kinda nice but annoying at the same time.
“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry.” He said after standing up. He was high. Very high actually. My neck almost broke once I looked up at him. I noticed he’s cheeks gone totally red and Georgie was laughing his ass off already. “I truly thought you’re a random kid they let on the set to observe what’s going on.”
“Well, no. Happily you’re not the first one thinking I’m much younger so I forgive you.”
“Thank you, pretty girl.” He chuckled. “I’m Percy by the way.”
“Y/N. Nice to meet you, pretty boy.” I said winking.
“Are you flirting with me?” He asked with a grin, crossing his arms on his chest.
“I’m just mocking you.”
“We’ll see about it. I must come back to work but what about hanging out later?”
“Sure.”
“Good then. I’ll take binoculars for you so you won’t have to squint your eyes to see me better from down there.” He laughed and I only rolled my eyes.
And you know what? He actually did take the damn binoculars. I thought he was only joking but it’s Percy after all. We had a great evening, we’ve been talking for hours and he’s been making fun of my height all the time. Interesting beginning of a friendship let’s say.
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willsimpforanyone · 2 years
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Percy Jackson imagine Percy meets his new half brother who he thought was a son of Apollo because he's very athletic.
thank you for being so patient!
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theres a new kid at camp
he's a little older than he should be for just arriving
percy specifically asked they'd be claimed by 11
this newbie is around 13, if he had to guess
he's running around, making friends easy
he moves with a lithe confidence
too smooth to be a son of ares
maybe aphrodite?
her kids tend to be good at making friends
and they have desirable aspects, sometimes aspects like strength or athletic ability
a sunny disposition and athleticism
one of apollo's kids, surely
percy was getting to be pretty good at this little guessing game
he grinned to himself as the kid paused for a second as they made eye contact
at 16, percy was tall and dark and intimidating as all hades
that could be scary to a new kid
so he tried to look friendlier, shooting a small, hopefully warm smile towards the kid
a smile which promptly dropped as a glowing blue trident appeared above the boy's head
but percy had been so sure! the kid was confident, athletic, good with people- he had to be apollo's son
and yet, as the symbol of the sea god and percy's father faded away
chiron was already leading the boy up to percy
"it seems you have a new brother, percy. could you show him around?"
as confused as he was, percy was thrilled
he'd always been a bit jealous of the older campers and their younger siblings
that's why he'd gravitated towards nico, he guessed
but now he had a younger brother
one who, now he looked closer under the bravado and cheerfulness, was terrified
that was okay
percy would look after him
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i hope this was alright, thank you for requesting!
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Damn right we're gonna get blueberry slushy .
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cringengl · 8 days
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if we look at the original timeline (aka annabeth and percy being born in 1993) then 2009 was a big year for annabeth bcus not only did the battle of manhattan take place and she finally started dating percy, but also minecraft came out and i think that would be a big deal to her
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lilislegacy · 2 months
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zeus: your boy is out of control. he’s down there creating storms and tsunamis and causing mass chaos. i think you need to-
poseidon: LOOK AT HIM GO! HAHA LOOK LOOK LOOK HE JUST DROWNED THAT ENTIRE ARMY OF MONSTERS
zeus: that’s not-
poseidon: OMG LOOK HES CAUSING A LITTLE EARTHQUAKE NOW! YES! GOOD! NOW USE YOUR SWORD TO- YES THATS IT SON!!
zeus:
poseidon: DROWN THEM ALL!! SHAKE THE GROUND!! FLOOD THE WHOLE AREA!! SINK IT TILL IT’S GONE!!
zeus: brother you need to-
poseidon: you’re just jealous.
zeus:
poseidon: he’s wonderful.
zeus: he’s-
zeus:
zeus: is he… doing the macarena?
poseidon: yes
poseidon: he likes to get on the nerves of his enemies. he also is physically incapable of staying serious for too long
zeus:
poseidon: i’ve never loved one of my children this much
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“They like the smell of burnt mac and cheese?”
“They like the smell of begging.”
CHRIS RODRIGUEZ THE MAN YOU ARE
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sierice · 4 months
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ep 4 of the show was actually craaaazy imagine athena getting downright embarrassed in at the weekly family mail opening meeting because your 12 year old daughter was an accomplice in playing the biggest screw you to the gods in forever and then there's poseidon whose son was the one who CAME UP w the idea and he's like my parenting MY parenting im so proud of him. im going to help him on his quest right now actually. why is he falling.
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c1nnam00n · 1 month
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how it feels trying to find a fanfic/imagine about a fandom that’s dead and dry
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i saw someone talk about how they have to prepare the future actor for Nico di angelo. But the real question is how are they going to prepare the paid guinea pig actor in s2?? That tiny little animal has to look scared, insecure and at the same time, has to look like a simp.
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Do any of you ever wonder if Camp Half-Blood accidentally brought in a demigod of a different pantheon before?
This would be especially hilarious if it happens sometime after The Last Olympian/Heroes of Olympus, where the gods are required to claim their kids quickly.
A whole day passes, and the new demigod needs to sleep in the Hermes Cabin and Percy is furious. Meanwhile, the Greek Gods are pointing at each other and shouting, contacting the most obscure of mini gods. Chaos erupts on Olympus as every deity in Greek Mythology is called upon and interrogated. Hermes hasn't run around so much in centuries.
Hecate sits in silence, fully aware of what's happening, but enjoying the show too much to intervene.
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indecisivemuch · 2 months
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Apples
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: You tossed an apple to Luke without knowing the meaning of it in Greek Mythology (fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)
Note: Just wanted to write something lighthearted and funny. Since I saw somewhere that apparently throwing an apple at someone means something in Greek Mythology, thought I should use it as a prompt.
Word count: 3.1k
You have been at Camp Half-Blood for a year. Within that time, you’ve been claimed by your Godly parent, learned so many things about Greek mythology, and, best of all, made friends who understood exactly what you were going through and all whom you loved dearly. 
One of them was Luke Castellan. You two were relatively close friends, though you swore he treated you differently than he would with others at camp. But you didn’t want to be foolish and assumed it was something. That didn’t mean you don’t treat him differently than you would with other campers though. You have always had a soft spot for Luke in your heart. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but you found yourself thinking about him too often.
“Anyway, Percy. Don’t worry too much, honestly. We all have been through what you’re currently going through. You’ll fit right in, yeah?” the younger boy offered you a lope-sided smile as you patted his back and stood up. 
“Alright, boys, I have to go now, but I’ll see you later,” you said before grabbing your plate, which would have been empty if it wasn’t for the apple you hadn’t eaten. The rest of the table - which included Chris, Luke, and Percy - said their goodbyes before chattering again as you walked away. However, you halted as you changed your mind about wasting the apple.
You turned back to look at the group before calling out, “Hey, Castellan.” However, you were slightly caught off guard to see Luke already having his eyes on you.
Luke swore that you have always had him mesmerized. If he even heard a whisper of your voice, his head would immediately try to locate you. To make matters worse, Chris even started calling Luke a “lost puppy” when he realized how your departure would always leave Luke like one. 
“Catch,” you tossed your apple at Luke. 
Multiple heads turned in your direction as the red apple hurled through the air before landing neatly in Luke’s hands. The Hermes cabin counselor had his eyes glued onto the fruit that was in his palms. You almost halted in your steps from his and other camper’s reactions. Some started whispering to their friends, pointing at you. You even heard one gasp. But you ignored them, finding it strange that people cared so much about such a small interaction.
“You can have it. I don’t think I’ll have time to eat it,” with that, you vanished from the scene, leaving at least half of the camp agape, including Luke and your friends. 
Then, the strangest of things happened for the next few days. It started with Luke already stationed outside when you exited your cabin the morning after. He cheekily presented you with one singular flower in his hand, and you took it with playful words, “Ooh, what did I do to deserve this special treatment today?”
“Nothing, just thought I should show how much I appreciate you,” Luke put his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the dining pavilion. You could feel your cheeks flushing at his action. He has never done this before. With his arms around you, the sides of your bodies brushed as the two of you walked. You noticed almost immediately how every other person would have their eyes on the two of you. But you ignored the attention and focused on Luke instead.
The sweet actions didn’t stop at flowers or more physical touches. For the next three days, Luke was stuck to your hip. So it was quite strange that you have not spotted the Hermes cabin counselor in the last two hours. Hence why you were spending some time with Clarisse, another close friend of yours. However, you felt an arm swinging around your shoulders, and you instantly recognized who it was from the familiar touch.
“Hey, Clarisse, can I borrow Y/N real quick?” Luke asked, quickly muttering a “thank you” when your friend nodded. “So, I have something to give you…” your face must have shown how surprised you were because he chuckled at your reaction. However, when the boy pulled his gift out from his cargo pocket, your mouth fell slightly agape at the reveal. 
Luke must have misinterpreted your reaction because he started nervously rambling, his voice a few octaves higher, “It’s not much, but honestly, this is all I can do with my arts and crafts skills. I’m just not really good with that y-”
“It’s perfect, Luke. Thank you so much!” you gave him a brief hug, but it was enough to stun him for a second. Luke felt this urgent sense of craving from how your bodies fit for a second. It’s as if he was made to hold you. He almost pulled you back into another hug but had to force himself to regain composure. Nevertheless, that didn’t last long because his eyes softened again at the sight of you trying on the bracelet he made. The beads in your favorite color, crafted with care, wrapped around your wrist perfectly, and you wonder how he knew just the right size to make it.
The truth was Luke had to ask Clarisse to steal one of your bracelets just so he could make a bracelet of the correct size. But you didn't need to know that, though - according to him.
The next night, there was a social gathering near the campfire. Luke reapproached the location with a hoodie in hand. Earlier, Luke excused himself to fetch the clothing item that was now in his hand that was meant for you. However, his brows scrunched as he spotted another figure next to you, sitting in the spot that he previously occupied. You were laughing at something they said. The way your laugh echoed in his head usually sounded like a lullaby or the enchanting voice of a siren. But right now, the idea that someone else elicited the same laugh made him want to hurl behind the bush he was standing next to.
Little did he know you were zoning out from whatever the other boy was speaking about, thus the fake laugh to not blow your cover. You were distracted just thinking about Luke and everything he has done so far - offering his portion of dessert to you because he knew it was your favorite; him winning Capture the Flag and ignoring everybody else to go hug you first, then having his eyes on you and only you afterwards; sneaking out of camp to go buy the items you mentioned once that you wish you had at camp and so on. 
Your mind quickly reminded you that the boy sitting next to you was still talking to you. However, when you snapped out of your thoughts again, you realized now he was looking at you expectantly and you scrambled your mind for a reply.
Thank Gods Luke plopped down on your other side, saving you from having to admit to the other boy that you were not listening to him. “Hey, you’re back,” you commented. Luke’s arm automatically threw itself around your shoulder and tugged you to him slightly. Your body leaned on the Hermes cabin counselor ever so naturally at this before you turned to him. Luke quickly set his clothing on your lap, and you stared at it questioningly.
“You’re cold, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” your cheeks flushed again at how he knew without you telling him. You shivered maybe once or twice earlier due to the night air lowering the temperature, but it was so brief you were sure nobody had noticed. As you put on the hoodie, Luke averted his gaze from you to the guy on your other side. 
The Hermes cabin counselor arched one of his eyebrows in a challenging manner. Almost immediately, his ‘opponent’ slightly raised both of his hands. Luke internally snickered at the quick motion of surrender. 
“My bad, man,” you heard the other boy say as you managed to put your head through the clothing item and pull it down. Luke was physically preening at the other boy’s words and departure. Meanwhile, you were distracted by how you were engulfed by the smell of Luke from his hoodie. Your height difference also meant you were swimming in it, but it felt so comfortable.
“What was that?” you asked once the other boy was gone. 
“Nothing…” even the most oblivious person could see that Luke was lying. But, once again, you did not question his actions and carried on with the gathering. You could also feel other campers staring at the two of you, but you ignored that as well. 
That night - like every other night since four days ago - he walked you back to your cabin. You were honestly completely smitten by the attention he has given you, not that you would admit that to him. You were still not sure what caused the change, but you were still elated about it. Maybe he did return your feelings? Either way, everything felt perfect lately, and you went to sleep that night feeling like the stars aligned for you.
“I guess congratulations are in order?” Percy spoke up as you lined up for food the following day. 
“What do you mean?” you asked, taking the plate of food. Today’s meal consisted of mac n’ cheese, steak, and an apple. 
“You’re engaged?” you almost dropped your plate at that and gave the son of Poseidon a questioning look. “You proposed to Luke like a week ago?”
“What? When?”
“When you threw him the apple? That is considered a marriage proposal.”
“Since when?”
“Uh, in Ancient Greek culture, it’s considered a marriage proposal if a man throws an apple at a lady. But, I mean, it’s the 21st century, so I guess it can work both ways.” Percy finally took a plate of food for himself. “And if the recipient catches it, it’s considered an acceptance.”
“You saw this and knew this whole time without telling me?!?” 
“I thought you knew! And you two seem so smitten already, so I thought you did it on purpose.”
“Percy, no! Is this a well-known thing? Do you think other people who saw it too thought I proposed to Luke as well?” Seeing Percy’s look and how he was fumbling with his words, you quickly requested, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.” 
The two of you walked over to Luke and Chris with plates in hand. You picked up the apple on your plate and placed it on the table. 
“Luke, we need to talk,” You deliberately placed the fruit there, hoping the boy would get a hint about the topic you wanted to discuss. Luke’s eyes flicked from the fruit to you. Though the hint of amusement in his eyes and a sheepish grin made you realize he knew all along. Luke stood up and followed you out of sight and hearing distance from other campers whose eyes were trailing after the two of you.
“You knew what it meant, and you didn’t tell me?” You broke the silence as soon as you two were far away enough. 
“Listen, I appreciate your proposal. But, it’s a little bit fast, don’t you think?” Luke teased, and you instantly hit his arm at that, causing the boy to flinch slightly, but the smile on his face told you he was anything but mad at your action.
“But you caught it. So, technically, you said yes,” you rebutted, sighing as you rubbed your face, “My Gods, does everybody at camp think we’re engaged? Wait, is this a substitute for an engagement ring? Did you give this to me because of that?” you pointed to the bracelet Luke gave you, your mind now understanding Clarisse’s teasing and her implications. You could see the way Luke was stifling a laugh. He settled with saying something else when he saw the pure panic on your face.
“Sweetheart, calm down.” the nickname successfully silenced you. You hated how it made you feel, but you would not mind hearing that daily. “No, it’s not an engagement ring.”
“Oh, so were you doing all of these romantic gestures and gifts on purpose to make fun of me and the situation?” you asked, though it was more with a lighthearted tone than one of temper. However, something shifted because the expression on Luke’s face changed from one of humor to earnestness.
“No, I didn’t do all this to make fun of the situation or you…” Luke’s voice fell off as tried to find the right words to say next. In that split second, Luke took a deep breath, and you could see how nervous he suddenly became, though he still kept a light tone. “I did it because I took it as a chance to maybe…win you over, and it also gives me an advantage because it fended off many other guys.” 
Undoubtedly, you were frozen in place, unable to register the words he was saying and the implications they bear. Neither did the boy in front of you act like the Luke you usually know - somebody who was usually confident, outgoing, always having his way with words. No, the person in front of you could not even hold eye contact, the pink hue on his cheeks now spreading to the tip of his ears as he shifted left and right. Luke broke the silence first, giving away the nerves that were gnawing him away from your lack of response.
“How about this? I’ll say ‘no’ to your mind-blowing marriage proposal for now,” you lightheartedly hit him again, rolling your eyes playfully. Seeing a positive reaction from you, Luke let out a small breath of relief, but the nerves quickly overtook again as he mustered up all the courage to utter his counter proposal: “But maybe we could start with something slower like going on a date? — Or I’ll even settle with you allowing me to try and ‘woo’ you.” Luke added the last bit as insurance, in case you didn’t want to take up on the date. Part of his mind wanted to scowl at himself for seeming so desperate - but Gods, he has always been a desperate man when it comes to you. 
“You’re such a dork.”
“Yet you still proposed to me.”
“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” Luke only shook his head in response. Once again, you haven’t responded to his offer. Luke could see that you were in deep thought, the cogs turning in your head as you digested what he just said.
“You mean it? That you wanna go on a date? That you wanna “woo” me and sweep me off my feet?” you questioned. Despite the humor in your voice, there was also a hint of vulnerability and cautiousness. “Does this mean what you’ve been doing for the past few days…they are all genuine?”
“Is it that hard to believe that I like you? I don’t think you even fully understand the feelings I have for you. I’ve had my eyes on you for a year now, which is the entire time I know you, and I’m afraid I can’t see that changing any time soon.” Luke had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying more because he was sure he would never stop talking about you if he could. Maybe those unspoken words ought to be things Luke would disclose in the future. If you give him the chance, he will ensure you hear everything he adored about you.
“Well, that’s good then, ‘cause I happen to like you too,” your words made Luke’s eyes snap to yours, almost in disbelief. 
Luke felt as if his heart was blocking his airway by the way it was thumping so hard in his chest to the point he could feel the vibration in his neck. He held his breath over your confession and the way you were looking at him. Oh, Luke was convinced he was utterly doomed because how could he be so affected by one single look. He was suddenly unsure whether he would be able to handle your affections or ever live without it if it was taken from him. He’d spend the rest of eternity like a deprived man.
“Aw, look who is nervous now,” you teased, deciding to somewhat torture him and get him back for teasing you earlier. “I did not think I had this kind of effect on you, Castellan,” you approached him slowly, keeping eye contact with his now dilated pupils. 
“I mean…all I did was say a couple of words and you’re all tongue tied. What would happen to you if I do this?” you swiftly grabbed Luke’s camp beads and pulled him down, eliminating a significant amount of space between your faces, though not completely. To steady himself during your action, Luke’s hands steadied on your hips and stumbled slightly, though you did not mind the touch.
You never knew it was possible for his face to flush even more, but it did. Luke gulped and your eyes casted down on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he did so. The way he reacted to you only intoxicated you with power even more. You glanced upwards a bit, eyes observing his lips for a split second before looking back up at his eyes. You smirked when you caught his eyes flickering back to yours from your lips as well. 
Just as you were about to close the distance, Luke pulled back just a bit, finally able to speak, though his words were heavy warnings, “If this happens—” Luke stopped, unsure he should let you know. Luke shook his head lightly as his eyes traced over your features before continuing, “If we kiss, there is no going back for me. I don’t think I could just…forget about it. So, please, just be sure before you do it.” Your eyes softened at his words.
“I promise, Luke. I am sure,” you muttered, though Luke knew you meant the words by heart from the way you were looking at him. 
You finally pulled the boy down again using his camp necklace. 
As your lips touched Luke’s, he let out a content sigh. His hands clung onto your hips, pulling you flush against his own body while you caressed both sides of his face in your hands. Luke felt like the world was swallowing him whole. The boy now knew what your lips tasted like, and it felt like an addiction. He could feel his heart waving white flags at that moment, completely surrendering to you. He was right before. There was no going back from this. 
But oh, if Luke knew an apple was all it took, he would have tossed one to you himself.
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slytherinqueenrose · 11 months
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You know what?
Fuck it
I can’t stand it anymore
This whole Percy thing is going too far.
I am a victim of SA, take it in your mind
And I get the whole idea of supporting another victims and “you always have to believe the victim”
But you know what’s wrong in this case? Those girls were clearly caught LYING several times.
First one when they said how shocked they were when they saw him in Wednesday. At last they had no fucking idea that he was popular and then BOOM! Someone found their old instastory and it became clear that they have been watching another show with him before.
Secondly, they said he was a racist because of this certain video where he was using slur words or however I’m supposed to call it. It came out it was his role.
Not to mention the fact that the girls are blocking EVERYONE who tries to dig a bit deeper. Why if they’re so sure of their version?
I had not been a big fan of Percy at first, I preferred the serie Xavier but after digging and getting to know him better I got furious to say the least. I support REAL victims of SA but those girls are like a total zero for me. Truth to be told I’m sorry.
I remember this one horrific day when I almost got rapped by a member of my family. Yes, family. His hands were everywhere, especially where they mustn’t have been. I reported it immediately, the minute I escaped. I have to live with this trauma and here they are, lying all over internet that the boy who was popular af had to throw the parties to sleep with them like cmon💀 we all know now that those parties were thrown for everyone, not only them. Those chat screenshots? Go to google and type “fake instagram chat” and here you can fake EVERYTHING.
If these girls wanted some fame, they could have gone to any movie casting and start their own career instead of wrecking someone else’s. I believe there are hundreds of castings everyday in Canada.
What I wanted to say is that I stand with Percy, I can see his friends supporting him so am I and those 4.5 million of people who were smart enough to stay with him. I may be disappointed, it’s ok but at least I won’t be the one who’ll come back to him after it’ll become official that he’s innocent.
If you want to write for Percy or Xavier, don’t be shy, your blog is your space and don’t worry about Percy’s slanders. Open your eyes before throwing insults on him instead of on those liars
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justsmth2 · 2 months
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re-reading pjo rn and this scene is always be funny
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diorchids · 3 months
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size kink, luke castellan.
cw: size kink, piv, slight breeding kink, swearing, & more
luke castellan who has the worst size kink.
he would wrap his toned arm around your body while you talked to other campers, softly rutting his cock against you.
he would softly guide your legs apart, practically salivating as your glistening cunt was revealed to him.
the way your glossy eyes would bounce back and forth from his fat cock inside of you to his face full of desperation made him want to fuck his babies into you. your eyes rolled out copious amounts of tears to cope with the pain of his thick cock practically ripping through your tightness.
his large hands knead your breasts, sucking and licking your nipple. he loved how big his hands were on your bouncing breasts, whispering every night how much he loved cumming all over them.
you writhed and mewled under the assault of your wet, sweet, tight cunt. "stretchin' me out real good, lukey?" you tried to talk to him, but you stuttered and blabbered as he dumbed you down with his aggressive thrusts in and out of your little cunt.
he would plant his large hands on your stomach, seeing his fat cock bulge up into your tummy. "look a'that, got my cock all in you,” he groaned, “takin’ me so good, lettin’ me fuck my cock in your—pussy..” as he played with your puffy clit.
he tapped your chin, wordlessly telling you to kiss him. a clammy hand softly gripped your neck, practically wrapping around it completely before you pathetically lifted your head to bring your slick lips to his mouth. he was impatient, pursing his lips before kissing you harshly.
your salty tears roll down onto your collarbones, running down your chest as he thrust roughly, pressing his hand on your lower stomach. you could never get used to his cock, always mewling and crying when he forced it into your hole.
you looked so small underneath him, hands shaking and trembling when you tried to hold his face. “so small, baby,” he practically moaned. he loves your size and how small you are compared to him, yet how much of his cock you could take.
he pushed himself into you occasionally, not wanting to hurt you. you were practically being ripped open each time he thrusts into you.
“‘s like that, take all of it. so good, fuckin’ you so good, hm?” you nodded dumbly. drool pooling in the corners of your mouth, trying to speak but only letting out incoherent noises and cries.
“lu—mmh, g’cum…” you said, practically seizing under his flesh.
his hands roamed over your body, cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he loved how sensitive you were to his touch, always twitching and writhing to accommodate the overwhelming feeling of warmth all over you.
feeling you tighten around him only served to make him go even harder. his pace quickened, his hips slamming into yours in a primal rhythm. the head of his cock, thick and unyielding, repeatedly poked up in your tummy.
“pretty baby—can’t take it no more?” he taunted you, sloppily kissing your face when you arched your back off the bed.
the sound of your flesh slapping together filled the room as luke continued to take you with rough, hungry strokes. his cock was a blur of thick, veiny flesh as it plunged in and out of your tight pussy, stretching you to the limits. it hurt so badly, but you just had to cum.
a thick white ring formed on the base of his cock, serving as proof of your arousal. he cooed in your ear, “doin’ so good, cum f’me.”
and that you did.
he held your waist in his hands, holding you in place while you thrashed and cried, your tummy releasing the burning knot in it.
he didn’t stop thrusting, he still wasn’t done. feeling you reach climax only fueled his lust. he groaned low in his throat, his hips pistoning faster and harder still.
the thick head of his cock almost pressed deep against your cervix, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your small body. “couldn’t take it, no? pretty pussy feelin’ so good.”
his hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you down against his relentless assault. he loved you more than anything, but you both loved how he treated you; fucking you dumb, forcing his fat cock into you.
“mmmh, s’ good,” you cried out, the corners of your mouth twitching with satisfaction while your juices coated his cock in your stickiness. he loved seeing your cunt react to him, serving as a lubricant for him to slide in easier.
he bit his lip and tightened his hold on your hips, thrusting hard and deep into you once more. "'s it, baby," he groaned as his cock jerked violently, sending streams of hot cum flooding into your tight, hungry cunt. “takin’—me so good.”
you eventually got up and felt his warm cum dripping down your inner thighs while he slipped his big shirt on you.
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lilislegacy · 27 days
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random camper: i- i think i might be in love with percy jackson
nico:
rachel:
calypso:
reyna:
random camper: any thoughts?
nico: and prayers. you’re going to need them
rachel, calypso, and reyna: *solemnly nodding*
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supercutszns · 3 months
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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo
Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶
true colours; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader
synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.
warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending
notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈
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You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 
This year, there were two. 
As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 
You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.
Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 
It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 
It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 
Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 
Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 
Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”
(You came in fifteenth.)
You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?
It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 
“You alright there, sunshine?” 
He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 
“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.
You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  
The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 
Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 
“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 
Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 
They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”
He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”
Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 
So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 
You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 
Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”
It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 
Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.
Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 
“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 
You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”
He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 
“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 
Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 
You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 
If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 
"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 
You haven’t talked to him since. 
It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 
“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”
The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 
“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”
You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”
“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 
“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”
“Lee!”
“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.
You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”
“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.
The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 
“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”
There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 
“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 
“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 
“No to the first, yes to the second.”
You wish you said no to both. 
The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 
He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 
The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.
Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:
You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 
It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 
Luke, calling your name. 
At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”
He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”
There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 
His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 
“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”
His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.
“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 
“I’m not—”
“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 
He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 
“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 
His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”
“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”
“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 
“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”
“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”
There’s a lull.
“What?” You blink stupidly. 
“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”
His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”
A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”
His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”
“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."
You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.
“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 
The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”
“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 
“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”
The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”
“Not even a little.”
“But you’ve got so many other—”
“I want you.”
“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”
"Your knee is fine!"
"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"
“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”
It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 
He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.
“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”
Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”
He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”
You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.
“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”
Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 
In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.
When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.
She's given you two more rainbows.
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