#v; wicked game

[clownsuu]

Art block fucking sucks so

Poppet got pastries for the gamers :]

Hope you feel better my gamer🏵️🥄🥄

aWEE look at thembs ;;;

#AUGDHDHD I really wanted to draw something for this but alas art block is way too strong #But it was gunna be poppet comforting a very distressed Dusty smhh (a bun ate a pastry when they weren’t supposed to and he got v worried) #They care very much for his children’s health- the vaults are absolutely infested with large ass bunbuns #No matter where you look- a bummy #How they haven’t ate all the money like a fine piece of lettuce is truly a mystery- Dusty taught them well NDHDHD #aWEEEEEEEWEEE themb;;; #So happy and care free- just enjoyin snacks and gossips in the ye ol vaults #If anyone was to see poppet and Dusty talking they would never believe their own eyes smhhh #Such a talkative mans! #Also thank you gamer! Hopefully I’ll get my motivation back soon! (And this wicked stomach issue-) #At least this gives me more time to play yakuza smhhh I have so many games to go through so little time- #Not to mention I keep getting distracted in game MDHDDHD #Damn it Majima and your quirkiness smhhhh

[gothoffspring]

had to mess around w/the lizardman mod, what do we think? 🦎🌈

dress: @serenity-cc / tights: @mmoutfitters / shoes + belt: @trillyke / earrings: @bellassims / necklace: @nucrests x @simgguk / eyes: @moonchildlovesthenight / ribbon bracelet: @sadlydulcet / nails: @lynxsimz

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 lookbook #kinda #ts4 occults #ts4 occult #ts4 edit #ts4 screenshots #i havent tried it out in game yet but! #it was a bit hard to find poses that work w the lizard head but GOSH #also the lizard head is kiiinda hard to edit but I slowly figured it out #i know im posting this v late but im just so!! she! #so far 10/10 experience but if you click the link to get the mod pls beware of lizard p*nis because this mod is from loverslab #u can get it without it though because theres a no wicked whims version too! #these edits r probably being ruined by tumblr but they looked good in ps :'( #goth occults #does my lizard have ears? no #does she still wear earrings though? absolutely #goth lookbook

[mrssimply]

I was tagged by the lovely @bluelolblue, thank you!!! (I started another thread because the previous one was getting a bit too long, hope that's ok!)

I think the initial tag game was : four characters that make you go "MY MAN, my Maaaaan", but I couldn't stop at four so, there are 7 of them xD.

My precious: John and Santino from John Wick. I get feral about both of them, especially at the moment. Not only I love the universe surrounding the franchise, but I'm weak for the dynamic about them being exes when JW2 starts.

My OT3: Kerry, V (default) and Johnny from Cyberpunk. A 3 years obsession (also, you get an unreleased VP of them, from a project I never finished).

My two idiots: Rodney McKay and John Sheppard from Stargate Atlantis. Now this one I wanna explain a bit: they're my comfort ship. When I'm between obsessions, I generally go back to them. It's a quiet love, I rarely share anything stargate related, but this universe is my safe place, and I always have a lot of fun when I dive into it again. It's like taking a warm bath, and that ship in particular is my favorite.

There, so I'm tagging: @koda-shoulda-woulda-but-didnt, @m-lter, @strandhai, @jaymber (no pressure of course) and whoever wants to participate!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand #male v #kerry eurodyne #silverdyne #kerry x johnny #kerry x v #silverv #Jon Wick #John Wick 2 #Santino D'antonio #rodney mckay #john sheppard #Stargate atlantis #mcshep #tag game

[videogamedogbracket]

#video game dog bracket #tumblr tournament #tumblr poll #round two #hyper light drifter #jackal #jackal hyper light drifter #hld #hld drifter #identity v #identity 5 #wick #wick identity v

[thewickedjenny]

Made a bigger version of a nirnroot! Usually I make small ones (about 2.5 inches wide) this one is 4 inches wide! Making the actual roots is always my favorite part.

If you fancy yourself an alchemist and would like to add this nirnroot to your alchemy lab, you can find it in my shop!

If it’s other ingredients you’re looking for, check out my other listings! (However, I’m running a bit low, I haven’t had enough time to forage the lands of Skyrim for a restock 😉)

If you repost anywhere, please credit me wherever you do so. I put a lot of work into my pieces. ✨💀🎨

#Skyrim #The Elder Scrolls #TESV #tes v skyrim #Tamriel #Video Games #Nirnroot #— #for some reason Tumblr mobile isn’t letting me add links? #I’m sorry about that! #the wicked jenny #wicked jenny wares #artists on tumblr

[merryandrewsart]

Day 11; Wicked Horns!🐃🦬

@yeehawgust .

#merryandrewsart #my art #watercolor #watercolor art #wicked horns #yeehawgust 2023 #should I tag it gta v? cus this game inspired this art..?? #gta v #gta v inspiration

[omniblades-and-stars]

>> Message Received from its.sophie.please.open

> Coordinates: Feros >Latitude: -70.52834, Longitude: -76.86462

>> Voice Message Received from its.sophie.please.open

>> Play Message

>>Transcript: Krios … um … fuck. Can't believe I'm doing this. I need your help. I walked into a trap. So stupid. Don't know how long I have before they find me. Some crazy bitch after revenge managed to pull one over on m- [startled gasp] shit.

Human, Amanda Olana. Apparently, I killed her brother a couple of years ago. I don't know how she found out. Don't know how I didn't make the connection before I got here. Oversight of the fucking century. Didn't think anything about being hired by some wannabe warlord. How many criminal empires have I been hired by before this?

She's … um … she's taunting me with calls and messages. She knows I'm here.

I'm fucked, Thane. Stuck in a goddamn closet, just waiting for a literal fucking mercenary army to find me … No way out. Only have one gun and a knife. Was supposed to be a quick in and out job. No games. Ha. So stupid, was gonna "play it safe."

[Sharp inhale, crying] 

I sent the coordinates ahead of this. I don't think she'd go through all this trouble if she didn't want to make it last, hurt me real bad first. You know me, I'm a big girl, I can handle pain. It doesn't scare me. It's not my first rodeo with torture.

But fuck, [hard sobbing] I'm scared of dyin'. An assassin who's afraid to die, fuckin' stupidest thing. 'Specially with how we carry on. 

[Deep inhale, exhale] 

They'll be here soon. I'm gonna take as many out as I can before they get me, so it may end up a moot point if I eat a bullet or piss someone off too much. I don't really expect you to come, but I've got no one else to even ask. If there is an afterlife and you don't come for me, I won't hold it against you. I've more'n earned this fate. I know that. 

I know I'm rambling, don't know what else to do. Nice to know someone's going to hear what might be my last words, I guess.

Do me a favor, Thane? If … um … if I don't make it, or you decide not to come for me, will you go visit momma's grave for me? She's buried at Elk Gap Memorial Gardens in Elk Gap, Tennessee, North America. Earth, obviously. [crying] Her name is Hannah Shepard, S-H-E-P-A-R-D in the English alphabet. 

There's a honeysuckle plant growin' on a … a fence near her plot. It looks kind of wild, it's a plant with little yellow and white flowers. I know you'll recognize the smell before you see 'em. Put some on her marker for me, they were her favorite. Tell her that Marcy missed her, but I probably didn't get into heaven, she won't see me again. 

You have my permission to carve my initials next to her name. Closest I'll ever be to her again. Ah … shit …

[Her voice falters, only crying can be heard.]

Now you know who I am, where I'm from. I tried to hide it … from myself mostly. Sad little orphan from some hick town in the mountains. Seems so stupid now. Who gives a shit where I'm from? Hell, most aliens don't recognize our accents, and I don't have any family to protect. Just my own fuckin' pride. Don't even remember why I started pretendin' to be someone else. It started before I became a killer. 

They're getting closer. I'll make every bullet count. Try to hold on as long as I can after they catch me. 

I'm sorry, Thane. For puttin' this on you, and for everything else. Hope you'll pray for my soul if things go more fucked than they already are. Kind of hope that your afterlife is real. 

Always liked the sea.

Goodbye, Thane. Hope I see you again, and not just because you're the only hope I've got. 

[Deep inhale, exhale]

[Singing, shakily] You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away. 

[Whispering] Fuck, I'm so scared.

>>End Transcript.

#“play message” is a link to an actual recording #is that my voice? is that my voice? #yes #I wrote and recorded this while I had a fever #don't know if I'm gonna end up going anywhere with it #part of my wicked game series if i ever actually write more of it #mass effect #my writing #fanfiction #assassin v assassin au garbage #shrios

[prison-mikes-bandana]

While playing cyberpunk 2077 i kept thinking johnny silverhand is such an asshole, WHY DO I LIKE HIM SO MUCH?!!!

Then it dawned on me “OH YEAH HES PLAYED BY KEANU REEVES!!

That makes someone at minimum 50% more likable!!!

#keanu reeves #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #pure #cd projekt red #funny #video game characters #hes such an asshole #i love him #v #cyberpunk #john wick #the matrix #point break #speed

[the-renegade-child-of-time]

“Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of her.” James X talking about his wife

Emily tried to not let it annoy her when occassionally people forgot that the academy was a joint endevour. Parents often assumed because they were meeting Professors Xavier and Clearwater, that only one of them was in charge. The academy was just as much their child as the twins were.

So being dismissed because they wanted to speak to Professor Xavier, that irked her. A part of her wanted to grind out: I'm the child of The Doctor. I have been travelling across the stars since I was a teenager. I have saved the world several times over and am the mother to a demi-god, near enough! I am perfectly worthy to be standing here as well.

So James' words cause a small smile to spread across her face.

#wouldn't you like to know #voice from beyond #wickedwritingswickedgame #jamily #v: wicked game #yeah emily kept her maiden name

[arklay]

tagged by @florbelles @denerims @jillvalcntines @jendoe @leviiackrman @aceghosts @indorilnerevarine @swordcoasts @nuclearstorms & @morvaris to do this quiz for some of my ocs, so have the horror girlies – thank you all so so much ily guys! ♡

tagging: @aartyom @aelyosos @brujah @cultistbase @faarkas @girlbosselrond @lightwardens @liurnia @narshadda @nocticulas @prometheas @reaperkiller @risingsh0t @shadowsofrose @snowthroat @solasan @steelport @stormveils @voerman & you! if you've already done this, my bad, just ignore me. but as always, no pressure to do this, of course! ♡

TRAGIC HORROR TROPES.

— the final girl.

the final girl comes out the other end of trauma alive – or, they were supposed to. honestly, you're not so sure you're really alive anymore. you saw the same hurt take those you were closest to while everyone paraded your bruises and bravery, as strength, as if you're the hero. and it hurts. you're tired and you don't want to have to be brave anymore. whatever you went through, it changed so much of who you were that you're still getting used to the person you see in the mirror. you didn't have a say in any of it, but you're here now, and that's gotta count for something. you'll make it count for something. but first, you need to let yourself find rest.

— the witch.

people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocent. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all – you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind.

— the vampire.

it is the loneliest day of a vampire's life, the first time they look into a mirror and see their reflection missing. drinking blood sucks too, don't get me wrong, but as a vampire you had to learn to hide from the sunlight, from your family, all your friends, because you were unavoidably different now and you didn't know how to explain that to them in a way they would understand. you could get stranger's blood in bursts, but what is life when you can't know someone for longer than the night lasts? you left everything behind because it was easier than trying to tell them. i just hope you know you're not the only vampire out there, and that there exist people who will understand your situation without a word. they'll sit with you in the dark for as long as you'll need them to.

— the mummy.

here's the thing about mummies – why the hell is anyone opening up their tombs? you were resting. you were peaceful. but someone intruded, barged in and broke down your walls and stole all the parts of yourself that you cherished, and then blamed you for being angry. blamed you for chasing them down no matter how fast they ran and how many obstacles they put in your path. and you know what? they deserve your rage. they destroyed something sacred. they didn't give a shit, and they wouldn't ever have lamented their actions had it not been for you – the real hero – getting up and showing them that they don't have the right to destroy and pillage as they please. that is your home. that is your body. nothing they do can take that from you. if not for you, they probably would've kept breaking into tombs and disturbing restful lives without a second thought. you won't be repaid for your good, but i hope you know you are a saviour in your own right.

#tag games. #oc: dani #oc: diana #oc: tereza #oc: veronica #cool. flings myself off a cliff. #these are so accurate that i am just 🧍🏼 whadda hell man... #dani's makes me cry a lot cause i've literally said this. she just wanted to stop fighting. to just chill and rest. be away from all the #horror but then she had to get pulled back into it and involved because she couldn't just sit by and see more people get hurt... aughgguhg #doesn't consider herself a hero when she is one... augh. diana's oh man. first of all hilarious cause ''the wicked witch'' jokey nickname. #but yeah. oof. yeah. points at her whole upbringing and even some points during the whole ordeal with the organisation. and she did indeed #become the witch they all said she was. oughhgh. hi so name drops!!!! tereza is ofc donna's gf i think you caught onto that mayhaps idk. if #the romanian surname is anything to go by and the fact that i said in that lil picrew replies she has a fascination with death. but uh. #yeah. you know i was literally reading that result and went omg this is. mm. wow. okay then. and then that there are other people like you #augh. also funny that vampires. miss tall lady she works for in the castle who not technically a vampire but the aesthetic™️ love to see it #okay veronica's is v inchresting cause i have very little lore for her yet but that is sooooo i am piecing things together i am i am #also idk still not 100% on her surname but it's fine it's okay like those kinda vibes. you understand.

[0ctopuscat]

Why is Wick so adorable I love her

#identity v postman #identity v #victor grantz #idv victor #idv wick #in game screenshots

[wickedwritingswickedgame]

“They told me you were dead” Vivian rasped, glaring hard at the man before her. Though ice filled her words, her eyes swam with unbridled grief. How, she thought desperately. How can this be possible? She still remembered that day; the chaos that followed an explosive ambush, her mother and father barking orders over the noise, Azazel whisking her away to safety while her caretaker, her only real friend in the world, ran to the other side the moment they broke into her childhood home. Vivian grit her teeth; the cold, crystalline shards swirling around her fingers sharpened like daggers.

“I spent ten years believing you were dead,” she said, unable to keep the quiver from her voice this time. “And now I find you’re alive and well? With him, of all people!”

The older man, this scruffy, wayward remnant of a life long past opened his mouth to reply; she wasn’t about to give him that courtesy. Not anymore.

“I was just a girl,” she cried, and as she did the ache in her chest spilled out across her face. “I was a girl, and I needed my father.” Why, she added silently, unable to speak it aloud. Why did you leave me all alone?

____________

That one AU where the Ice Queen discovers Erik is still alive…💔

@secondchancesmagneto

#Erik lehnsherr #Vivian lehnsherr #X-men #magneto #xmwg #xmen wicked game #Erik #vivianlehnsherrprime #secondchancesmagneto #wgedits #wickedwritings #v: a song of ice and fire

[videogamedogbracket]

#video game dog bracket #tumblr tournament #tumblr poll #round two #losers bracket #yoshi #yoshi's island #yoshi's wooly world #yoshi's story #poochy #poochy yoshi #identity v #identity 5 #wick identity v #wick #duck hunt #duck hunt dog #mame yakuza #yakuza 6 #yakuza 4 #yakuza 3 #yakuza #mame #fossil fighters #rex fossil fighters #rex #bb bandits #trauma center #pepita trauma center #trauma center new blood

[midmare]

new tags i.

☽ ＼ ( out of character ) .

☽ ＼ in character .

☽ ＼ ( memes || prompts ) .

☽ ＼ dash game .

☽ ＼ ( promotion ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ wicked and hellbent … ( study i :: headcanon ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ they call me an omen … ( study ii :: visage ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ madness calls to me at night … ( study iii :: musing ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ shadows on my wall don’t sleep … ( study iv :: aesthetic ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ save me your prayers … ( study v :: canon div ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ a villain in a black dress … ( study vi :: wardrobe ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ my nightmares sing me off to sleep … ( pt i :: oracion seis ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ i’m the one i fear the most … ( pt ii :: crime sorciere ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ i fight with you in my sleep … ( pt iii :: pardon || parole ) .

#☽ ＼ ( out of character ) . #☽ ＼ in character . #☽ ＼ ( memes || prompts ) . #☽ ＼ dash game . #☽ ＼ ( promotion ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ wicked and hellbent … ( study i :: headcanon ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ they call me an omen … ( study ii :: visage ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ madness calls to me at night … ( study iii :: musing ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ shadows on my wall don’t sleep … ( study iv :: aesthetic ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ save me your prayers … ( study v :: canon div ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ a villain in a black dress … ( study vi :: wardrobe ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ my nightmares sing me off to sleep … ( pt i :: oracion seis ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ i’m the one i fear the most … ( pt ii :: crime sorciere ) . #☽ ＼ ‘ i fight with you in my sleep … ( pt iii :: pardon || parole ) .

[rafeandonlyrafe]

distant calls

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, male masturbation, mentions of p in v sex, like one use of kid, protective!rafe, one mention of violence, kinda creeper!rafe i guess??, dubcon possibly?? not really but just in case!

“hey princess.” rafe smiles when he hears immediately how excited you are.

“hi rafey!” you squeal into the phone, wishing you weren't separated by the distance, forced to talk on the phone instead of in person.

“how was your day pretty girl? what did you do?” rafe asks.

your cheeks blush red at the nickname, never getting used to it no matter how many times he uses it on you. 

“well, it was a port day!” you start to describe your cruise. you really did try to have fun with your parents, but part of you longed to have rafe around, to be back in the obx where he could look after you.

you tell rafe all about the city you stopped in, where you went to shop and a cave exploring excursion that you ended up sitting out to wait on the beach until your parents got back.

you kick your feet up and down, back and forth as you recount everything to rafe. he stays mostly quiet, only letting out a few grunts and light sighs that you suppose is his affirmation that he's listening.

you feel so lucky to have captured rafes interest. you're not dating, haven't done anything at all yet beyond rafe holding your hand when you cross the street, but you're enamored with him. rafe is just as infatuated with you, but he would be damned if he told you, preferring to just keep you smiling and beat up any guys who look at you even a second too long at parties.

“and then we got back on the ship.” you twirl a finger absentmindedly over the blanket as you lay on your stomach on the bed. 

“did you eat baby?” rafe asks, his voice sounding strained.

“yes, of course.” you nod quickly despite rafe not being able to see you. “we went to the buffet and i got a chicken salad and then i even got dessert!” your exclaim, proud of yourself. “i got vanilla ice cream with sprinkles.”

“that's good, kid.” rafe let's out another sigh that has you pressing your ear into the phone, listening intensely to hear a weird somewhat wet sound that you can't place.

“keep-” rafe gasps out. “keep talking baby. tell me about-” he has to pause again as he grunts. “tell me about tomorrow.”

you instantly lose your suspicion as you let out another squeal. “rafey, you will never believe it!” you explain how you're going snorkeling in an area where people commonly see dolphins and you're really hoping you see them on the boat ride out to the reef.

you giggle with excitement, not realizing what your sounds are doing to rafe.

many hours away, back in the outer banks, rafe is laying on his bed, back propped up against the pillows, one hand holding his phone close to his ear while his other furiously strokes his cock.

it wasn't his intention when you first got on the phone, but hearing your sweet little voice had him pulling his cock out of his shorts.

“oh wow.” rafe says, tacking on a moan at the end that he hopes is disguised by his words.

rafe knows he's going to break the second you get back from your cruise. he's going to pick you up himself and bring you to the closest bed, even if it's a shitty motel. he's not even confident he'll make it that far without needing to take you. maybe the side of the highway will do.

you continue talking away about the itinerary, not a clue in the world that rafe is so close to ending the game you've been playing, the teasing about to come to a wicked end.

“are you in your pajamas?” rafe asks, interrupting you. but he doesn't care. he needs to know more.

“yup.” you say, popping your p’s. “been in my room for like half an hour now. it's so warm even with the ac blasting i'm wearing just a t-shirt.”

it's all rafe needs, the image of you splayed out on the bed with just a t-shirt on, pushed up to reveal your bare cunt and perfect tits. rafe doesn't hold back his sounds as much as he knows he should, grunting as he cums with a final stroke, releasing all over his abs.

“you okay rafey?” you question.

“im perfect, dollface.” rafe says, sighing as he lets go off his softening cock. 

“wanna switch to facetime?” you pout. “i miss looking at you.”

rafe switches without second thought, loving to see the way your eyes widen when you realize he's in bed shirtless, eyes squinting at the sticky white substance dotting his lower half.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @dityaadama @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1

#was this partially inspired by the 9 month cruise? maybe #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot

[murdrdocs]

FOOLISH LOVERS. luke castellan

description. luke castellan has betrayed camp half blood. luke castellan has made an enemy out of those around you. and unfortunately, luke castellan has always held a place in your heart that you can't close off. at least, not until you meet with him one final time.

includes. SMUT 18+, fem!reader, daughter of hypnos reader, oral (f and m receiving), brief anal rimming (f receiving), implied p n v, dreamscape sex again, angst galore, some arguing, references to pjo ep 8. inspo from wicked game by chris isaak

wc: 5.8k+

a/n: a dreamcatcher: daughter of the god of dreams installment.

Before you can realize the change, you’re standing on a hill. 

It takes you a second to notice, but the area is much like your dreamscape. Low, waving blades of grass that travel through the air with the wind brushing against your bare ankles. The ocean is loud and to your right, down beneath a steep cliff. From just a quick glance, you see a storm brewing off into the distance. The water swirls angrily as if it’s ready to disrupt anything that dares to come into its path. 

You can’t help but think about the betrayed son of the sea god back in reality who surely feels the same. 

When you take your eyes away from the entrancing scenery of the ocean, you notice a cabin directly in front of you. It’s small, and made from long wooden logs, although there isn’t a forest nearby to identify the source of the frame. The exterior is slightly shabby, appearing manmade with a few imperfections. 

It’s not on a comparable scale to the cabins back at Camp Half-Blood, but something about it feels cozy. It gives implications of a simpler life. Maybe what summer camp could have been if you weren’t the offspring of a god. 

That and the clouds rumbling with warnings of an approaching storm is what encourages you to seek refuge in the four walls. 

Step by step, you don’t fail to notice how a focus subject has yet to appear. 

Your hand wraps around the doorknob and you push the slab of wood open as you wonder who’s dream you could have been pulled into tonight. 

You haven’t even stepped foot over the threshold, you have started to convince yourself that this is the dream of the son of the sea god, and then someone speaks. 

“Hey.” 

You stop. 

Your foot hovers for a second before you place it back beside the other. 

That voice. You hadn’t heard it for months now, but you know it. Day after day, you lay at night with your eyes closed, cementing the memory of the way he spoke and how he sounded as he laughed at your jokes into your mind. Forcing yourself to recall the inflections in his tone as he teased you, and how his words flattened out and got hard when he gave orders to yourself and others. And then, completely involuntarily, you would force yourself to pick through every single intonation and word that you could remember, attempting to find signs. Any hints or clues that Luke Castellan wasn’t the person he made himself out to be. 

Each night, you grapple with the fact that you couldn’t find any clues. You tried to reconcile with your blindness, all while telling yourself that you could have attempted to prevent it all. 

But hearing his voice now, none of that returns. Unexpectedly, your body floods with warmth. 

Luke sits on a small loveseat. The shape of it is a bit of a blur at first, but you blink and it cleans up to present a busy patterned textile couch. It’s well loved, there are a few tears in the bottom of the fabric at the back, and if you’re smelling it correctly, there’s a slight waft of cigarette smoke. 

Strangely enough, it’s inviting. 

You hate to admit it to yourself, but the boy sitting at one end of it makes it even more inviting. 

You step into the cabin and close the door behind you. 

“Hey, Luke.” 

He turns around to face you at the sound of your voice. You sound stronger than you expected. More casual, too. 

You realize that he’d been looking out a large set of windows before facing you. There’s only two but they take up most of the small wall. Outside is a perfect view of the land you’d just come from; bright green grass in the foreground and deep blue salt water off into the distance. 

Luke stares at you. 

The cabin is a little dark—there’s a lamp in the far corner that illuminates the room, washing out the otherwise blue light from outside—but you think his eyes are shining. As if there’s unshed tears barely held within them.

He smiles at you. It’s soft and almost mournful. 

You should leave. 

You shouldn’t be fraternizing with Luke at all, even if it is within a dreamscape. You couldn’t trust yourself in a room with him, especially with the things the two of you used to do when you were in dreamscapes alone. 

Just looking at him reminds you of all of those times. Sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. The feeling of his muscles beneath your inquisitive hands. The deep and smooth sound of his voice. The way everything felt so real and so tangible as he rocked into you, and then as euphoria swept over your bodies you felt so infinite and surreal. 

Your teeth find your lower lip. Your body urges you to get closer to Luke. Stubbornly, you stay in your spot. 

“What d’you think?” He lifts a finger and circles it around in the air. Your eyes lift and you finally take in the rest of the cabin. 

The main room is spacious, but comfortable. Lightly furnished with hardwood floors. Though almost every surface is covered in some sort of rug, most of them persian. There’s a small kitchen to your left, and then the living area that Luke sits in on the right. There’s a few bookshelves but there aren’t many books on them, and there’s a fireplace that looks to have never been used before. A few picture frames sit on the mantle of the fireplace, but from afar they just appear to be showcasing blobs of people without any distinctive features to identify an identity. 

Admittedly, for this to be the created dreamscape of the son of a messenger, it’s impressive. 

You tell him as such. 

This time, Luke’s smile is appreciative. 

“Means a lot coming from you. Especially with the things you can create.” 

Your skin heats up and you block the memories out of your head before they can firmly cement themselves once more. 

“You might have me beat, Castellan. Giving me a run for my money.” 

You don’t know why you decide to fall into the old routine with him. Maybe it’s because you can’t push Luke away for the life of you. He was once your friend and so much more at the same time. It’s impossible for you to completely forget the times you shared together. 

Maybe it’s the home making you feel this way. 

How comfortable it feels. How protective it is. 

You’ve spent weeks pulled into unfortunate dreams. Nightmares have plagued even the toughest minds of Camp Half Blood as of late, and you’ve been unable to fortify your own mind enough to prevent slipping into the mind of others. Which has left you to fight against unbeatable monsters, fortify the barriers of Camp only to have them knocked down by Zeus over and over again, watch those you love die in horrible battles, and much much more. 

In comparison, there is the possibility of a simple conversation with Luke Castellan giving you what you’d been desperately missing even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself: Luke’s company. 

It’s how you reason with yourself whenever you take a seat atop the cushion of the couch. Instantly, it feels as if you’ve never truly known comfort before. This couch conforms to the curves of your body. You lean back against it, pull your feet up with you, and you quickly decide to stay a little while longer. 

Up close, Luke looks even prettier than you remember. Dark curly hair a little more grown out, unruly and hanging over his forehead like low hanging fruit, begging for you to latch onto it. His face looks a little slimmer as if he’s lost weight, and the angular planes of his cheekbones and jawline accentuates the dark shadow he has along his chin. The mark of facial hair that was previously present. Beneath his clothes—a faded black, almost gray hoodie, and black sweatpants—he appears larger. His shoulders wider, his neck thicker, his wrist and hands veiner. 

(Compared to his covered body, you feel bare in nothing but long socks, and a matching shorts and tank top set.)

He looks virtually the same, but his aura is different. There’s more confidence in him, a larger ego, glory even, that wasn’t there the last time you’d seen him. You know what has caused the change, and it should be something you despise. But his new glory makes him more attractive. It dries out your tongue and lodges something in your throat, pushing it further down until it sits heavy in your stomach. 

“Thought this could be our new spot.” Luke speaks softly, almost in a scared whisper, as if he fears that you’ll reject him. 

(You don’t know if you could ever reject Luke)

Your eyebrows furrow. “Our spot?” Confusion drips off of your words. 

Luke nods once. He licks over his lips and you’re quick to peel your eyes away from the sight and back to his eyes. That’s not helping you much either so you instead try to figure out what books are on the shelves afar. 

Since the little amount of time that has passed, there have been a few more added. From the ones that have already been there, the titles are too far away, too dream disoriented, and your dyslexia hasn’t escaped this dream, but you think you find novels on Seeing. Guides on how to decipher the visions that come to humans, or how to channel them. 

You focus back on Luke. 

“Yeah. Like the old bedroom. But a little more …” he hesitates to find the word then lands on, “Casual.” 

The bedroom. 

Your lower stomach stirs at the mention of it. The large bed, how warm it always was in there, the cold leather of the couch, the things the two of you did to each other on all surfaces. 

This spot is definitely a lot more casual. You’re not instantly compelled to straddle Luke here, although you do have a few thoughts about throwing your legs over his right now and reconnecting in ways you’ve missed since he left. 

So badly do you want to agree. This could be the one place where you get to experience what you’ve been missing without anyone else knowing. This is the only place where you can see Luke without anyone else knowing. 

But it’s wrong. 

He’s the cause of all of this. He’s caused the nightmares you’ve been pulled into. He has betrayed everyone on levels you could have never imagined. And who’s to say that he won’t betray you again. 

“We won’t need a ‘spot’, Luke.” Briefly, his eyes flash as if he’s hurt but in your eyes, Luke has proven himself to be a formidable actor as of late so you ignore it. “This is a one time thing.” 

A moment passes. And then another. 

You turn to watch the sea out in the distance. It appears as if the ocean has lulled for the time being. The sky is still dark, but it has yet to deepen in color. 

Luke takes a breath and you give him your attention again. 

“Why won’t you join me?” 

His eyes flash betrayal, his lips twist into something sorrowful. 

Your answer comes easy. The same one you’ve told yourself over and over again, night by night when you considered reaching out to him. 

“Because it’s not right, Luke.”

When he stands, his newfound power becomes even more clear. It leaks from his pores, spews from his mouth with his words. 

“How could it be ‘wrong’ when you feel the same. All that time you spent telling me about your father. How neglected you felt. What happened to that?” 

Your head shakes. You stand, too, evening out the field for both of you. 

“This is not what I meant. I–” The words don’t find you. Luke takes notice. 

“You what? Love your father? Love the gods? After how they treat you. How they treat us.” 

“Don’t say ‘us’. We aren’t together, Luke.” 

That same look flashes in his eyes once more. He takes a step forward, you take one back. 

He doesn’t say anything. You watch his hand reach behind his back. 

“What, are you gonna fight me like you did with Percy?” 

His head shakes. His eyes harden. He pulls his hand back and it comes up empty. 

“He attacked first.” 

Your voice starts to rise. “And you tried to kill him, Luke. He’s twelve. What don’t you understand about that? ” 

“Twelve and a forbidden child. In the grand scheme of things, his age doesn’t matter. He’s powerful. More powerful than both of us combined.” 

“So is that why you tried to kill him? Because he’s a threat?” 

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Not here. Not now.” 

“Yeah? Well then when? And where? Because this is the last time you’ll be seeing me, Luke.” 

“Okay.” 

Your eyebrows raise. Disbelief paints over your features. You’d expected more of a fight. For Luke to disagree or attempt to convince you to return to him a few more times after this. Maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe you wanted him to convince you that you needed him. Maybe you wanted to hear him tell you that he needed you. 

Either way, your reply is the same as his. 

“Okay.” You turn and take the few steps it takes to get to the door. 

Your chest heaves with large gulps of air in and small breaths of letting them out. Your body is buzzing, the same feeling you would get before sparring with Luke. The same feeling you would get before your bodies joined together. 

You tell yourself to reach out for the door handle. You tell yourself to lift your arm, connect your hand with the metal, and pull it open. You tell yourself to return to your own dreamscape, maybe even reality, and forget any of this ever happened. 

Maybe you would’ve done it if Luke hadn’t spoken. 

“You can walk out that door but that won’t change how you truly feel.” 

He doesn’t add on. You don’t move. 

“And how do I feel?” 

The adrenaline is overwhelming you. You need to expel it out of your body somehow. 

As Luke is speaking, you’re already approaching him. 

“I’m sure I don’t need to answer that for you.”

When he speaks, it’s with arrogance. His confidence is heavily laced in his words, overflowing until it drips out into the air and lodges in your chest. Running through your body and down to your fingertips. It annoys you, makes you want to battle it out with him in a fight you’re sure to lose. 

Your feet thud against the floor with each step until you’re close enough to cup his cheeks in both of your hands and pull his face down to yours. 

There’s no hesitation in the kiss from either side. As if both of you were expecting it to happen eventually. 

Luke kisses you back vehemently, his lips messily sliding against yours as he presses into the center of your back, accentuating the curve and drawing your chest into his. His free hand glides down your side to your hips. He circles to your back, dragging his palm down to rest over the curve of your ass. He grips the flesh through the soft fabric of your shorts, digging his blunt nails in before continuing his hand—open palmed—down to grip the back of your thigh. 

His other hand mirrors his previous actions until he has a hand on either thigh. He tugs once, and you collaborate to wrap your legs around his waist and hook your ankles behind his back. Your hands dig into his hair, and your core tightens as you prepare to continue holding yourself up. But Luke takes most of the load. 

He places his hands on your bottom to keep you lifted. You expect him to walk you back to the couch, or maybe pin you to a wall. But he doesn’t. 

He holds you against him in the center of the living room, kissing you like he’ll never get to kiss you again. You don’t fail to realize how he likely won’t. 

His tongue slides against yours, your teeth knock together at least twice, both of you refuse to pull away to breathe which results in heavy exhales through your noses against the skin of the other cheek. 

While it may be uncoordinated, it’s not primal. 

There’s copious amounts of longing beneath each pass of your tongues against each other. There’s human emotion behind the way you tug on his hair and how he uses one hand to pull your hips closer to him. There’s raw longing in the soft sighs and gasps you both let out into the other’s mouth, taking it in and replicating the noises over and over again. 

When you finally do part, it’s with a wet, pronounced smack. 

“Luke,” you gasp his name before you can realize it’s happening. One of your hands moves from his hair to hold his cheek. Your fingers spread around his ear and your thumb probes into his jaw. 

He hums, his eyes still shut. 

“I want you,” you admit. 

You watch the smile spread across his lips, his eyes flickering open to look into your soul. 

“Took you long enough to admit it.” 

You suck your teeth and roll your eyes. Your other hand, previously resting on his shoulder, slaps his bicep. 

“Don’t be an asshole about it.” 

He laughs as he apologizes, knocking his forehead against yours. “Sorry, pretty girl.” 

He takes a moment.

When he speaks, his eyes are nothing but earnest. His words are slow and careful, despite how simple they are. They fill your chest with warmth. They comfort you, possibly in slight delusion as you instantly believe him without caring about what repercussions his promise could come with. 

“You have me. Always have. Always will.” 

You’re quick to surge forward. 

Luke is quick to reciprocate. 

This time, he walks you back to the couch. He settles you on it carefully, not lifting his hands from your bottom until you’re seated securely along the loveseat and pulled to the edge by his hands hooked under your knees. 

His own knees dig into the rug beneath the furniture. His head is tipped up to continue kissing you, this one lacking the over enthusiasm from before. Now, he takes his time, having confessed his desire to be with you as long as you’ll let him. 

It’s not long until he pulls away and trails his lips down, kissing along your decollete, not stopping when he comes in contact with the fabric of your small shirt. He presses his lips into the fabric firmly, as if he’s trying to reach your skin beneath the layer.

You feel the pressure he has beneath each kiss as he trails down, and you arch into his touch, excitement spreading through your lower half whenever Luke digs his fingers into the elastic of your shorts and pulls them off of your legs before he even reaches there. 

You’re quick to leave your legs open, even going as far as to spread them a little more to give Luke more room. 

His wide shoulders fill the space. They nudge against your knees and instead of letting you spread your legs even more, he throws them over his shoulders, effectively caging himself in with your limbs. 

If the small smile on his face is anything to go by, he’s happy about his position. 

You’re still wearing your panties. Your hands trail down to get rid of them, but Luke stops you with a hand on your lower abdomen. 

“Let me,” he tells you, voice soft and light. 

You remove your hands and do as told. It’s a simple system you have worked out, Luke slowly but surely working his way down to where you want him. He's eager, and you know he wants himself there as much as you do. 

It’s strange what desire could make you do. 

You’ve never been anything but loyal to Camp Half-Blood. To both of your parents. And in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t allow yourself to do this.

 But you’ll simply have a final time with Luke. That’s it. Sharing your body with him, and having his body shared with you, won’t make you forget his transgressions. 

As your panties are pulled off of your legs, and your skin is once again placed above the thick fabric on the shoulders of his sweatshirt, you tell yourself that this won’t change anything. 

You’ll never be able to forget what he has done. What he’s planning to do. 

Except, perhaps, you can push it aside for as long as you’ll have to while you let yourself get lost in his touch. 

The first pass of his tongue is a long stripe between your folds. He spreads you open with his thumbs, pulling at the skin on either side to expose your center. Then he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your clit. 

He puckers his lips, sucking twice before flicking his tongue against the bud. 

Your hands card through his hair, ignoring the way your fingers get stuck on a few stubborn curls that refuse to separate in favor of grounding yourself. It feels too good, and you haven’t been in this position for too long. There’s nothing you fear more right now than getting too lost and waking up in the real world before you’re even satisfied. 

Luke brings his attention back down to your entrance where he laps up what you’ve been leaking. He groans, peeling his mouth away and you stare down at him, entranced by how grateful he looks. 

Eyes closed, face completely relaxed, his scar laid flat against his cheek, his pink lips parted and glistening. 

He looks ethereal. The sight is addicting. 

“Missed this so much,” he admits, tongue flickering out to lick the remnants of your arousal off of his lips. 

You feel the same, but you refuse to tell him that. Instead, you scrape your nails at his scalp lightly and shuffle your hips, hoping that alone is enough to capture Luke’s attention again. 

Either he catches the memo or he had the same idea as you because his lips are right back between your legs.

You’d expected him to behave like a man starved, licking and sucking your cunt like you would disappear any moment. Instead, he takes his time with you. He utilizes the best part about being in a dreamscape: the lack of concrete time. 

He savors the taste of your cunt, and the little sounds you make. His fingers press into the tops of your thighs as he holds them down against his shoulders to prevent you from squirming. His nose nudges against your clit and digs into the short hair you have on your mound. 

He presses his tongue everywhere that he can, sometimes even sliding further down to rim areas still unexplored. Each time, you would tense up just a little less, until eventually you were trying to subtly urge his head further down for him to do it just one more time. 

And when he does, that’s when the coil in your lower belly gets as tight as it could get, just before snapping from the tension. You would have warned him. Or, maybe you did. You were so focused on getting there that any words that came out of your mouth weren’t even considered. You weren’t aware of anything other than your mouth moving at the same speed as your hips as you dragged your cunt against Luke’s face, using him to guide your orgasm to full completion. 

As soon as your hips stop twitching you swing your legs off of his shoulders and slide to the floor beside him. You pull your shirt off, then do the same for Luke, throwing both of your tops off to the side. 

Unsurprisingly, he’s not wearing another layer beneath the sweatshirt, allowing you to run your palms down his chest, feeling the familiar definition along his abdomen. 

You sit in front of him with your legs folded underneath you, and since he’s on his haunches, he towers over you just a bit. You have to tilt your head up to kiss at his jaw and neck, your hands busying themselves with urging his sweatpants off of his hips. 

Luke does the rest of the job for you, hesitantly pulling away from your touch to stand and slide his sweatpants off of his legs himself. You’re left on the ground, hands politely resting in your lap while you stare up at Luke with wide eyes. 

He slowly reveals more and more of his legs until he’s wearing nothing but his briefs. They hug him well, like they always have. A prominent outline of the muscle definition in his thighs, elastic waistband hanging low enough on his hips for you to see the ‘V’ that connects his hips and abdomen. And of course, the tight material reveals the prominent boner confined within the crotch of his briefs. 

You want to reach up and palm him. You want to pull the final layer off of him. You want to take his cock into your mouth and relax with the heavy and warm feeling of him against your tongue. 

But you decide to be patient. And it’s worth it. 

Luke slides his briefs off himself, never breaking eye contact with you as he throws them to join the rest of your clothing. His stare is strong and heavy as he spits into his hand and puts his dick into the same place, wrapping his palm around the center of it and stroking a few times. 

There’s the prettiest, most picturesque bead of precum at the tip and you’re practically salivating just looking at it, praying deep down that Luke doesn’t run his hand over it so you can have it for yourself. 

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Luke takes a step closer, holding the base of his cock right in front of your face, allowing you to get the perfect view of how his tip is a light pink around the almost clear drop of precum. 

“You want?” he asks you simply, smiling a bit when you nod eagerly. “Then open.” 

You’re quick to do as told, lacking any shame whenever you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. As soon as Luke presses his tip to your muscle, you wrap your lips around him and eagerly suck him clean. 

Another good thing about the dreamscape is that everything either tastes like absolutely nothing, or like pure honey. And when you’re with Luke, things are usually the latter. 

You start to get lost in it, enthusiastically beginning to suck Luke off even though you were only meant to be getting a taste. 

You can see that Luke is close to commenting on it. His eyes shine like they do before he has something to say, but just when his lips part and he takes a breath to speak, you hollow your cheeks and sink as far down him as you can and any words he could have conjured up are suddenly gone. 

He lets you do what you want, eyes fluttering shut and one large hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to suck him off. He lets out the smallest noises, pretty grunts and groans and sighs. 

Luke was clearly just as wound up as you were. Within a couple of minutes he’s already starting to spew out praises like he does when he’s close. Some of them are fragments, broken words strung together in incomplete sentences. 

“So … doing so .. you’re–” when you swirl your tongue at the tip and tease his balls just a bit. 

“Gods, you’re so good at this,” when you jerk the majority of his dick with one hand and focus your mouth on his tip with the other. 

“Close. So close. Almost there, dove” when you take all of him into your mouth once more, throat molding around the definite shape of him. 

And when he cums down your throat, you’re so satisfied that you can’t help but moan unabashedly along with him. 

You’ve only just swallowed his cum before his cock is pulled out of your mouth and he’s back on his knees in front of you. 

His arms wrap around your waist, he pulls you into his lap, laying his head on your chest and just letting himself be. 

Just existing. 

After a couple of minutes, you stop expecting him to speak and decide to just exist too. Your breathing eventually matches up, in and out, in and out, over and over again in tandem. Outside, rain starts to thud against the roof of the small home. Distantly, there’s the faint sound of thunder, and you’re sure the ocean is swirling angrily. 

None of that matters, though. You’ll be left to decipher the metaphorical meanings of it all later, when you aren’t coexisting in the shared warmth from you and Luke. 

When he isn’t kissing the tops of your breasts and holding you securely in his arms. 

Eventually, Luke does break the silence. His voice is low when he does, both in volume and tone. 

“Can I have you? Just one final time?” 

He talks into your skin without looking directly at you. But as you start to respond, you cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. 

The entire time, you’ve been fighting this battle. Knowing you wanted Luke, knowing you wanted to be with Luke, but also knowing it was wrong. All of it was wrong. 

But right here, right now, you let go. You nod unashamedly. You kiss his forehead then the tip of his nose then his lips, before landing on the bottom end of his scar. 

You tell him, “Yes. Of course, Luke”, as if he didn’t even have to ask in the first place. 

And truthfully, you don’t think he did. 

‎

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” 

Luke is in the middle of pulling his sweatshirt back over his head when you speak. There’s a second where the fabric is hiding his face, slowly revealing the curls at the top of his head, then his dark eyebrows, and finally his eyes. They look as they have the entire time: despondent. 

“I know you didn’t. Neither did I.” You have a feeling that neither of you are speaking about the same specific thing, but the overlap in your conditions is so wide that you don’t bother correcting him. 

He reaches behind his back once more and when he pulls his hand back around, he has his camp necklace dangling from his fingers. He undoes the knot, and holds it open, waiting, until finally you turn around and let him delicately tie it around your neck. 

Your hand touches the beads. You want to thank him, but it doesn’t feel right. 

Instead, your lips twist into what you hope comes off as a thankful smile when you turn around. When Luke replicates it, you feel a little better. 

There’s a moment, just a brief moment there where you’re both staring at each other and the memory of Luke’s hands and lips and tongue and his everything engrossing you, taking your everything and combining them together, is still fresh on your mind. The warmth of his eyes and the warmth of his camp necklace around your throat heals you. And you consider that your feelings for Luke were stronger than you ever forced yourself to acknowledge. 

He was more than a close friend to you. More than someone you looked up to. More than someone you shared your body with in the dreamscape. 

He was more. 

It feels unfair for you to have these emotions. The wrongness of it all—your feelings for Luke Castellan, how he’d turned out—has rage fueling deep in your gut. With no one else to blame it on, you can’t help but briefly curse the gods. 

For they were the ones to cause this. To instill deep hatred into Luke’s chest. To prevent either of you from ever having a normal life where you could live and breathe and love without the burdens placed upon you both. 

A life where you wouldn’t have to love and lose someone like Luke. 

But there’s nothing for you to do about it now. 

You don’t want to leave. But your time together is up. You should’ve left a long time ago, and your choice to stay before resulted in something you could never take back. 

You turn and walk to the door. And once more, Luke speaking causes you to stop. 

“You are the only one who could make me change my mind.” He says it in a small whisper, as if he doesn’t want to admit it even to himself. As if he shouldn’t be admitting it at all.

‘Are’. His feelings for you still haven’t changed. You don’t know if they ever will. 

Either way, you’re forced to change yours.  

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything. Your hand reaches for the doorknob. You take it in your palm, gripping and turning at the same time until the latch is undone. 

The door opens and fills the room with the sound of rain falling. It’s loud and fills the empty space. Up until Luke speaks and the baritone of his voice joins it. 

“This is it?” 

You nod once. Luke’s scoff sounds painful. It’s bitter with an edge of hatred. Maybe disbelief. 

It makes tears brim at your eyes. Your nose stings. Your throat feels as if it’s constricting with the effort to hold your tears back. 

Luke takes a breath. You step one foot out of the door. 

“Dreamcatcher,” he calls to get your attention, the nickname giving you that fuzzy feeling you used to get from just seeing him around camp. “We’ll be seeing each other again.” 

And then your foot lands on the dry green grass of your own dreamscape. 

Just a few hours later, you rise with the morning sun, sneaking off to the showers before everyone else to get rid of the stickiness between your thighs. 

The dream might not have been real, but the evidence between your legs certainly was. Strangely enough, that and the additional chord of beads around your neck. You only notice it when you’ve undressed and stepped beneath the shower head, scrubbing at your skin and running into additional jewelry you hadn’t expected to have been there. 

You take it off and slip it with the rest of your clothes as a keepsake, carrying it around in your pocket for only you to know about.

#lukesworld! #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo