( GOLDEN GIRL ) ethan nakamura
ethan nakamura x apollo!fem!reader
! - part one , the backstory
part three, the balance of the scales
From the moment you and your twin Jett arrived at Camp Half-Blood, it was as if the sun itself had decided to walk among the demigods. You weren’t just a child of Apollo—you embodied everything he represented. Radiant, talented, and full of life, the two of you became the heart of camp almost instantly.
Your first day in the Apollo cabin set the tone for what was to come. You, with your brilliant smile and unshakable confidence, made friends as easily as breathing. Campers gravitated toward you like moths to a flame, eager to bask in your warmth. Meanwhile, Jett, quieter and more introspective, balanced you perfectly. Where you dazzled, he steadied. Where you led boldly, he offered calm wisdom.
The campers called you "the golden twins" before you even reached your first Capture the Flag game. And it wasn’t just because of your blond hair or your father’s light shining through you—it was because you made camp feel brighter, safer, and more united just by being there.
You especially had a knack for leadership. Even at eight years old, you could walk into any argument, any moment of chaos, and bring it to order with a single word or gesture. Chiron saw this right away. By the time you were 11, you had already earned your place as his assistant camp director—the youngest in Camp Half-Blood's history.
Jett, on the other hand, found his strength in quiet service. He wasn’t as commanding as you, but he didn’t need to be. The Apollo cabin looked to him as their steady rock, a leader who always had time to listen and who never let the stress of battle or prophecy shake his calm. Together, the two of you set an example that others couldn’t help but admire.
You weren’t just admired—you were loved. Your laughter rang out in the dining pavilion every night, drawing everyone in. If a camper was too nervous or homesick to eat, you’d sit beside them, chatting away until they forgot their fear. And if they needed more comfort than camp could provide, you’d take them up the hill to Calliope's old cottage.
That little cottage became a sanctuary. There, you would bake cookies, tell stories, and remind new campers that they weren’t alone. It wasn’t long before campers started calling it "Sunshine Cottage," even though Jett often joined you, helping with the baking or playing quiet tunes on his guitar to set everyone at ease.
It was at the cottage where you first met Ethan Nakamura.
Ethan was different from the others. Where most campers were timid or curious, Ethan was cold. Sharp. He stayed in the shadows, rarely speaking and never trusting anyone.
You noticed him the second he arrived. He was just a kid then, like the rest of them—maybe nine years old, but with a bitterness in his dark eyes that made him seem older. He stuck to the edges of the Hermes cabin, never joining in the chaos of stolen trinkets or pranks. When you saw him sitting alone during dinner one night, you couldn’t help yourself. In fact, from the moment you saw him, sitting with his arms crossed in the far corner of the pavilion, you were determined to crack him open. You grabbed two cookies from the table, marched over to him, and sat down.
He didn’t look at you. "What do you want?"
"To feed you, apparently. You haven't touched your plate." You handed him one of the cookies and smiled.
For a moment, Ethan just stared at it. Then, reluctantly, he took it.
From that night on, you made it your mission to break through his walls. You invited him to the cottage, sat with him at meals, and dragged him into conversations whether he liked it or not. Jett teased you endlessly for your stubbornness, but even he couldn’t deny that Ethan started to soften.
You made it your personal project to drag him—kicking and screaming if necessary—into the light. At first, Ethan resisted you with all the sharp, sarcastic bite he could muster.
But you were nothing if not relentless.
"Ethan! Hey!" you called one evening, bounding up to him with a plate of food.
"Don't you have better things to do?" he muttered, not looking up from the sword he was sharpening.
"Not really, no," you said breezily, sitting down beside him. "You're my better thing."
He groaned audibly. "Why are you like this?"
"Like what? Charming? Endearing?"
"You'll come around," you said, undeterred, taking a bite of bread and grinning at him. "Everyone does." It took months, but eventually, Ethan stopped resisting. He started talking back during your banter, showing up at the cottage uninvited, and even smiling once in a while. He never fully fit in at camp, not the way you and Jett did—but with you, he didn’t have to. You made him feel like he belonged.
The other campers couldn’t believe it when, bit by bit, Ethan started showing up with you. To the dining pavilion. To the archery range. To the campfire. He didn’t smile often, and he still had that gruff, brooding air about him—but when you were around, he softened. You were like a flame, and he couldn’t help but gravitate toward your warmth, no matter how hard he tried to resist. By the time you were teenagers, the bond between you had grown into something more. It wasn’t just friendship. It wasn’t just love. It was something unspoken, a connection so deep that neither of you needed words to express it. Ethan was yours, and you were his.
The cottage was your sanctuary, your little haven where homesick campers could come for cookies, comfort, and stories. But on quiet nights, when everyone else had gone to bed, it was just for you and Ethan.
One particularly stormy evening, you lit a cluster of candles, their golden glow filling the small space as rain pelted the windows. Ethan sat on the couch, flipping through an old book you'd found on the shelves, his brow furrowed as he pretended not to notice you fussing around him.
"Ethan," you said suddenly, holding out your hand.
He didn’t look up. "Hmm?"
That made him look up. He raised an eyebrow, giving you a flat look. "What?"
"Dance with me," you repeated, smiling brightly. "It's perfect! The rain, the candles... Come on, don't be boring."
He groaned, but before he could protest further, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. He stood stiffly, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides as you placed his hands on your waist and took his shoulders in yours.
"This is dumb," he muttered, refusing to meet your eyes.
"You're dumb," you shot back playfully, swaying gently to an imaginary tune. "Loosen up! No one's watching. Well, except me, but I don't count."
After a few moments, Ethan finally relented, his movements relaxing as he let you guide him. The candles flickered around them, their shadows dancing on the walls. Your smile widened as you leaned back to look at him properly.
"See? This isn't so bad," you teased.
"And you're lucky I am. Otherwise, who would get you to do fun things like this?"
He rolled his eyes but didn't pull away. Instead, he held your gaze for a moment longer, his dark eyes softening in the candlelight.
"Your eyes are pretty," you said suddenly, your voice quieter, almost like the words had slipped out without your permission.
Ethan blinked, his mouth twitching into a rare smirk. "Yeah? You want 'em?"
You burst out laughing, burying your face in his chest as he chuckled softly. The sound was rare, but you cherished it every time you heard it.
From outside the cottage, anyone watching might have thought you two were an odd pair. You, with your golden hair and unshakable brightness, looked like you belonged to the daylight itself. Ethan, with his dark hair and sharp, cynical demeanor, seemed like the opposite. And yet, together, you made perfect sense.
Around camp, the relationship was the subject of endless fascination. Everyone adored you. You were Camp Half-Blood's golden girl, the sunshine that kept everyone warm. And Ethan? Ethan was, well... Ethan.
"How did that happen?" someone asked Jett one day, gesturing to the pair of you sitting under a tree, your head resting on Ethan's shoulder while he absently toyed with your hair.
Jett grinned. "Honestly? No clue. But good luck telling her she can't have something she's set her mind on."
It baffled people that Ethan had managed to "bag" the sunshiniest person in camp, but to you, there was no mystery. You saw sides of Ethan no one else did—the way his sarcasm hid a deep loyalty, the way he always noticed when someone was struggling, even if he pretended not to care. He was sharp and strong and steady, the kind of person who kept going no matter what the world threw at him.
And Ethan? He might have never admitted it aloud, but he loved your brightness. You were everything he thought the world lacked—hope, kindness, light—and he couldn’t help but be drawn to you, even when he didn’t think he deserved you.
