in which mike is not able to battle his addictions
word count: 3.16k
MDNI! warnings: explicit content, smoking, weed, addiction, casual sex, mentions of sex, grief, toxic dynamics, some physical reactions, angst and anything related to the upside down hasnât happened but jane is dead anyway (sorry, i love her)
a/n: iâm a byler shipper since 2017 but iâm a sucker for a dead ex girlfriend, so it had to be this way. also this fic is strongly inspired from cigarette by alfie jukes!
mike doesnât smoke. he never smoked a cigarette in hawkins. not even when eddie pressured him that one time while they were drunk after the end of their biggest campaign. he never understood why people liked it. it could kill you, it smelled terrible and, as he learned, it tasted even worse.
he hadnât been able to say no when you pressed a cigarette on his lips the first time without even asking if he wanted it or not, right as he was crawling from between your legs and his mouth was still glistening. it stuck on his rims for your juices and your enchanting eyes were fixed on him, waiting, so he just decided to try inhaling as best as he could. he held that cough in as you pulled the cigarette away and pressed your lips to his.
the mix of smoke, you and your cunt was probably what got him hooked on nicotine. or perhaps what got him hooked on you.
mike couldnât stop thinking about you. he couldnât get you off his mind, mostly when he smelled or tasted tobacco. so he started smoking.
he wanted to battle this addiction so badly, but every time he tried you showed up at his dorm and gave him a cigarette while his cock was still deep inside you after he stuffed you full.
this would only lead him to cancer or worse. he never should have agreed to casual smoking or to casual sex. thatâs not very nerd-from-indiana mike, whose high school social life consisted of his friends from hellfire or his girlfriend since he was 12.
then mike met you on the third day of welcome week as a freshman. he was drunk on two beers and probably still hungover from the two nights prior when his floormate introduced the two of you, so he barely remembers what happened between the soft touch of your hand shaking his in the middle of the party and the harsh pulling on his hair as he kissed down your body with his knees scraping on the filthy tiles of a frat bathroom.
you were everywhere after that. on campus and in his head.
he blamed his decision making on the alcohol, but the truth was that even sober he wanted to shove his tongue in your mouth whenever he glanced at you from the other side of the cafeteria.
it would have been so lame of him to try talking to you after that night when it was clearly just a one time thing for you. maybe crazy college hookup culture was getting to little loser mike, who only had sex with one girl his whole life before you, but he really didnât want to make a fool of himself in front of his new friends or you just because he couldnât stop thinking about tobacco flavored lips.
his mind stopped racing only when you finally decided to talk to him three days after at another party.
you gave him a cigarette and leaned too close to his ear so he could hear you over the music, letting your breath catch on his skin. it was like everything stopped and there was only you, in the way it happens in those cheesy romance movies that he used to watch on date nights back home.
mike finally felt like he was breathing normally again after these days without you and the burning scent of smoke.
when you asked him to get you out of there, he was already walking you to your dorm.
you gave him another cigarette just outside before pulling him toward you by his shirt and crashing your mouths together. the two of you stumbled into your room as your tongues intertwined and your hand was buried in mikeâs pants.
that night he got to finally know how your insides feel and it was like his brain stopped working the moment your walls clenched around his cock.
it felt like the best he had ever felt before.
his mind seemed light and so did his senses. you were so warm and slippery. it was addictive.
mike knew right then that all he wanted was to stay there forever.
thatâs why the day after he bought a pack of camel, the ones hopper used to smoke until he quit to make his daughter happy. he spent the whole day hoping he would run into you on campus.
he did that evening outside the library with a cigarette already between your fingers, and he practically sprinted just to ask you for a lighter.
you passed it to him with soft eyes and a warm smile. the sparkle when your hands touched could have been enough to light mikeâs cigarette.
that day the two of you finally had your first real conversation. it was about some boring college stuff but that wasnât the point. the point was that he got to hear your mesmerizing laugh when he said some dumb joke about the cafeteria menu.
mike didnât even realize both your cigarettes had burned all the way to the filter.
thatâs when you pulled a pen from your bag, took his hand and wrote your number on it so he could call you that night.
you said it was to chat some more but your lips still flickered a little when you kissed his cheek before leaving.
the smoke lingered.
he felt it everywhere. on his clothes. on his hands. on his cheek. on his mouth.
he could still feel it when he got home and emptied his pockets right next to his phone. he pushed the camel pack out of the way and hurried to dial those worn down numbers drawn on his hand.
you picked up right away, your voice a little groggy but excited enough when you heard his.
mikeâs mind drifted to the idea of you sprawled on your bed with messy hair, wrinkled clothes from that evening and halfway through a smoking session. he got a semi just imagining you waiting for him to call like that.
the two of you talked for a while until you asked what he was doing that night and he answered with an embarrassed nothing.
half an hour later you were in his dorm room, sharing mikeâs first joint and making out.
both your lips were a bit chapped from the weed but all that did was make mike work harder with his tongue against yours. your skin was smooth against his hands and you smelled like marshmallows and smoke.
he couldnât feel anything else around him, like all his senses were focused on you alone. he could feel you humping his thigh and gripping his jumper and hear your sweet moans on his mouth, but couldnât even quite remember how that happened after you entered his room.
of course you ended up fucking on the floor next to his bed like wild animals.
you were already reaching for your cigarettes in your jeans pocket as mike was still holding onto you as his head spun from the post orgasm bliss and weed. you started talking about how he was so good at sex but you really needed to find yourself in college and, fuck, he wasnât understanding a single thing. his face must have shown his confusion because you sighed and lit your cigarette.
then you asked when his last relationship had been and he just started talking about jane. he didnât even want to talk about her. he didnât even want to think about her. she was gone and he was in college with a beautiful naked girl on his lap, so why was he still fucking talking about jane?
mike had definitely started crying because your fingers were wiping his cheeks. you said something about being on the same wave and passed him to smoke. you were looking at him with understanding eyes as you light his cigarette, brushing you lips against his temple and clinging to him right after.
thatâs pretty much how mike wheeler ended up with a severe nicotine addiction and an as harmful casual relationship.
mike hated all of it.
the smell, the taste and the feeling that something was missing every time he left your room.
he hated even more how it felt so good every single time.
there were times in those two years when he tried to quit all of it but you always found a way to show up again and he wasnât strong enough to fight against it.
it was better to suffer from it then to not feel it ever again.
thatâs why you were now standing at his dorm door in front of him, already waiting for him to move out the way so you could enter like you always did. âiâve got good stuff for youâ you held up a small clear bag with definitely some weed inside. you were smiling like you always did whenever drugs were involved. mike hated that it was only reserved for that. you didnât need to wait for an answer before pushing it against his chest and walking into the room.
you fit there. it was like mike had grown used to your presence for it to feel strange. you tossing your bag and jacket onto his chair felt almost natural.
there hadnât been more than a week in those two years when the two of you went without seeing each other. well, until now. âyou vanished for three weeksâ you were now on the other side of the room with your arms crossed and a soft voice that felt forced. mike clung on the weed bag in his hand.
those three weeks had been the worst of his life. he couldnât sleep. he couldnât eat. he couldnât relax. and he definitely couldnât stop thinking about you.
âi needed to studyâ mike lied, repeating the excuse he had rehearsed the entire time you were apart, feeling both excited and anxious at the confrontation he knew was coming. âyou didnât answer your phone eitherâ you replied instantly, like you had rehearsed your side of the argument too. âi really needed to studyâ he couldnât even look you in the eyes.
the room seemed to shrink with every step you took toward him. the smell of ash and ember was already invading all of his senses. your dark stained fingertips were cupping his cheeks and your breath synced. it almost seemed like mike could finally exhale. âi missed youâ your foreheads were touching and he felt the vibration from your words right inside of him. mike hadn't realized how badly he missed you until you were standing in front of him again.
the last time you had seen each other was just like the others. left wing menâs toilets of the third floor at the last stall close to the window. between his creative writing class and the next on modern history. his fingers were curved deep inside you and his hand on your mouth to shut your moans. you had asked if he had time for a cig right after. then you had started to gossip about some of your friendsâ crazy relationship troubles and you had said that you were glad not to worry about love. mikeâs chest had started to hurt like the smoke was pressing on his lungs and he just had had to get out of that stall as fast as possible.
your lips were as close as possible to his without touching. were you craving him in the exact same way that he was? his hands instinctively gripped on your waist and pressed the weed bag on your back. love. what an awful word. it didnât make mike feel crazy. it made him feel sick. the rest of him was completely still as he couldnât bring himself to taste tobacco again.
âmike?â he felt the air from the words on his face. it was cold. your lips were a bit dry. your eyes were deep. he had to anchor himself to your tshirt. you tried pushing yourself on him but he moved back. âi canâtâ he finally exhaled.
he couldnât hold everything inside of him anymore. the need for something more than this. mike was so tired of temporary satisfaction instead of the real thing. he wanted to breathe normally again. âi canât do this anymoreâ he pushes himself away from you in every way.
your entire body seemed to drop. you were so ready to smoke and have sex like it usually happened. no big talks about feelings or love. you had said you were glad not to worry about that. âwhat?â panic seemed to flash through your eyes and your words. you tried reaching for his hand to pull him closer again but mike just gave you the weed bag and walked away on the other side of the room.
he started pacing around. he couldnât bare to look at you any longer than what he did without giving in. âi canât have sex with you anymoreâ that wasnât not the full truth. he could have sex with you but not without it burning.
âwhat do you mean?â your words seemed to almost echo from how far the sounded from across the room. mike felt his skin buzz and heart racing at the mere thought of your confused face. he gripped on the desk and tried to collect himself. not looking at you wasnât enough when he could feel your presence just some steps away. âi need you to leaveâ he hoped that sounded like a beg because it was.
âlook me in the eyes and say that againâ it felt like your voice stung in his chest like fumes. every muscle in his body was tensed up as he slowly turned around and sat on his desk. your face was expressing a bit of anger but it never looked anything else other than mesmerizing to mike. you were staring at him in a way that made him feel more exposed than when he is butt naked in front of you.
mike didnât feel any courage inside of him. the words scraped against his throat, desperate to escape. âpleaseâ that was all he managed to gasp out of him. his gaze diverted to the floor right after. he was utterly pathetic.
he heard a brief âokayâ from you until your shoes came into his vision as you were probably reaching for your things. were you really leaving? mike spent two years falling harder into bad habits to not lose you and all it took you to leave him was a mere word? âdo you even give a fuck about any of this?â it was like fire took over him and he had to spit out all of the ashes inside of him.
you froze at his harsh question. âiâm not going to waste anymore time waiting for you if you donât want me toâ your gaze was crude and hard on mike which probably mad him even more furious than your insane words. âiâm sorry i was just a fucking waste of timeâ his tone rose and so did him from the desk. you were right in front of him again but this time the fire inside of mike was only making him feel worse.
âyou are so fucking stupid, mikeâ you scoffed out at him. he was stupid for even thinking you actually cared for him for anything more than senseless fun. âand you are cruelâ he said it right into your face as he tried to hold back tears.
his eyes went wide as he felt hands slam hard on his chest. âyou are the cruel one!â you were definitely yelling and crying while gripping on his shirt. mikeâs mind was buzzing and his heart was screaming louder than you. âyou are the one that still thinks about her while you fuck me!â
mikeâs ears started ringing and his whole body went completely still. jane. oh, jane. âget the fuck outâ he said it as his eyes were set on yours, probably for the first time that day. he grabbed your hands on him and pushed you towards the door.
âno, mikeâ you were pushing against him too. âno, please, forget about what i saidâ mike couldnât even understand anything. everything inside him blurred together. he stopped himself just at the sight of your streaked face. you fell into his body. you were shaking. his first instinct was to hold you in his arms.
your eyes were red and your faces were too close again. âfuck,â you were talking between sobs. âjust fuck me, please,â mike felt his body drop again. âpleaseâ your voice cracked. he walked backwards, away from you.
âleaveâ mike was tired, so fucking tired. âbefore it gets worseâ like it wasnât already the worst. you stood there for some time more, completely absent, before finally walk out the room.
afterwards, the room still smelled like smoke. mike hated that he noticed it immediately. hated that he looked for it. hated that he already missed it.
the smell lingered in the curtains. in his sheets. in his clothes.
in him.
his eyes landed on the half-empty pack you had left behind. he stared at it and for a second he almost laughed.
two years. two years of cigarettes. two years of excuses. two years convincing himself he was trapped.
mike rubbed a hand over his face. his chest hurt. he wanted to call you. he wanted a fucking cigarette. he wanted to blame you for all of it. he always did.
it would've been easier. easier than thinking about the way you'd cried. easier than remembering how quickly you'd apologized. easier than remembering the panic in your voice when he told you to leave. easier than hearing jane's name come out of your mouth.
jane. the name sat in his chest like a bruise.
mike squeezed his eyes shut. he had spent two years pretending he wasn't angry. pretending he wasn't hurt. pretending that smoking had fixed any of it. but he missed her.
you had only given him something else to think about. something louder. something easier. like warm steady hands on his body, late-night smoking sessions and breathless laughs. something he could reach. something he could touch.
something he could lose. something that could hurt like jane did.
his eyes opened again. the pack was still sitting there, waiting just like you always had. for the first time in two years, he couldn't tell if he was finally breathing or if the air had simply run out.
in which mike always watched you and quietly knows that no one deserves your touch more than him
word count: 2.16k
MDNI! warnings: suggestive content, all the characters are 18, mike is a perv, very subtle manipulation and disturbing thoughts
a/n: itâs not pjo related but i just had to write something about mike to get it out of my system because finn wolfhard is consuming my every thought
mike often wondered when you became so different.
in kindergarten, you were the kid who pushed everyone on the swings. even when your arms shook and your feet slipped in the dirt, you laughed and said it was fine, that you could do one more. you liked being useful and needed. mike learned early that you never said no if someone asked the right way.
a few years later, you were still like that. you raised your hand in class, asking for clarifications you didnât need so your friend wouldnât have to admit she was lost. you bent down to pick things up for people before they even realized they had dropped them. you smiled constantly, like it was muscle memory.
mike watched. he always watched.
by the time everyone was old enough to need help with other things, the way people looked at you changed. the hallways talked. eyes lingered. boys leaned too close, tested boundaries with jokes that werenât really jokes. he noticed how your smile faltered but never fully disappeared, like you were afraid that refusing would make your cruel.
max once told him you cried in the bathroom stall during lunch sometimes, quietly with your feet tucked back so no one would see you there. that knowledge felt heavy and intimate to mike, like something he hadnât earned the right to know.
he didnât understand how they touched you so easily.
hands on your waist as they passed. fingers brushing your thigh when there was plenty of room to move away. the way they leaned in, murmuring things that made your shoulders tense even when you laughed. mike told himself they were corrupting you, staining your pure big heart that once was always praised. that his anger was protective and noble.
still, his thoughts betrayed him.
he imagined what it would feel like to be close enough to make you nervous. close enough that your kindness would kick in. that reflex to please. the idea made his stomach twist, heat pooling low and shamefully as he lay awake at night, replaying the way your skirt rode up when you sat or the soft concentration on your face when you leaned over a desk.
you never noticed him looking.
you waved at him in the hallways, asked him for help with math and thanked him sincerely. like he was safe, different from the others. you never flirted, never touched him unnecessarily. to you, he was just scrawny nerdy mike who knew derivatives.
that hurt more than it should have.
because mike never asked you for anything. not really. he told himself that was proof he was better than the rest. that wanting you without taking was restraint, not cowardice. that imagining your mouth forming his name in the dark didnât count because it stayed locked inside his head.
sometimes he told himself he wanted to save you.
sometimes, alone in his room, hand pressed hard inside his underwear, he admitted the truth: he wanted to be the one you finally couldnât say no to.
the day you accidently walked into the the av club during mikeâs free period felt obscene in its luck. like the universe had miscalculated and handed him something he wasnât meant to have.
the door slammed shut too fast behind you. you stumbled, an annoyed breath hissing through your teeth and hair falling out of place. mike focused on the split second where your face wasnât arranged for anyone. he felt it low in his stomach before he felt it anywhere else.
then you noticed him and your expression reset.
âoh,â you smiled immediately, apology already forming. your hand went back to the handle. âsorry.â
you were going to leave. of course you were. the thought made something sharp twist inside him.
âyou can stay,â he said, too quickly, voice cracking against itself as he forced himself upright in the chair. he hoped you didnât notice how tense he was, how tightly his knees were pressed together. âi mean, if you want.â
you hesitated. not uncomfortable, like you were deciding. that was worse.
âare you using the room?â you asked, stepping back inside anyway, like your body had already made the choice. you smelled good. not too overpowering like his motherâs scented candles, but delicate. mike hated how much that mattered to him. âno,â he said, lying easily. ânot really.â
you looked at him then, properly. like you were actually taking him in. eyes drifting over his face, lingering just long enough to make his skin feel too tight. mike swallowed hard.
âi donât want to bother you,â you said, smiling softly. you stepped closer as you spoke, close enough that he could see the tiny crease between your brows. âi can go,â but you didnât move toward the door.
âitâs fine,â he said, watching the way your fingers toyed with your bag strap, the absent little movements you probably didnât even register. he imagined those fingers around something else before he could stop himself and had to grip the desk harder until his knuckles hurt.
you leaned over the desk to look. too close. your arm casually brushed his. mikeâs breath hitched despite himself. he told himself you did this with everyone. that it meant nothing. his body disagreed. âwhat is it?â you asked.
your shoulder was practically against his now. he could feel the heat of you through fabric. he wondered, absurdly, if you could feel him too and how rigid heâd gone to hold himself together.
âitâd bore you,â he said, though he didnât pull away. he told himself moving would make it obvious. that staying still was safer. politer.
âi doubt it,â you said lightly. âyou always make things sound interesting.â
you said it without looking at him, already turning your attention to the desk, and that somehow made it worse. you trusted him not to misread it and you had no idea how carefully he was cataloguing the curve of your mouth when you spoke.
he imagined leaning in. just enough. youâd probably freeze first, surprised. you might even laugh it off. you always laughed things off.
he turned away instead, pulse racing.
âwill broke his walkie,â he said.
âoh,â you nodded, genuinely curious. âso youâre fixing it for him?â
âyeah.â
âthatâs nice of you.â
nice. the word scraped at him. he didnât want to be nice. he wanted to be wanted. he told himself you meant something else when you said it.
you stayed close. leaned in further to inspect the pieces. your knee brushed his. this time you noticed. âsorry,â you murmured immediately, pulling back a fraction. you apologized even when you didnât have to.
then you stepped away, and the loss of your proximity felt almost physical. mikeâs irritation startled him. you hung out with boys who grabbed space like it was owed to them, but you retreated with him, carefully. like you were protecting him.
âis it okay if i sit here and study?â you asked, already dragging the chair closer. relief surged through him, thick and dizzying. âof course.â you smiled at him like heâd done something kind.
you quietly studied beside him after that. the room felt smaller with you there, air heavy with things he wasnât saying. mike barely worked, glancing at you constantly under the excuse of concentration. watching the way you chewed your pen, the way your thigh angled toward his and the way you didnât flinch when he shifted closer.
you were the one to cross the line first. you didnât know.
mike was bent over the desk, screwdriver slipping slightly between his fingers, when you leaned in again, even closer than before, and reached out without asking. âhere,â you said, fingertips closing around his wrist to steady it. it was casual. you were being helpful. your touch was light, almost apologetic.
you let go after barely a second. mike didnât breathe the entire time.
the contact burned, sharp and electric, shooting straight up his arm and settling low in his stomach. he kept his hand exactly where it was, even after youâd pulled away, like moving would expose him. like you might see what your touch had done.
you didnât. âsorry,â you added automatically, already turning back to your notes. âyou just looked like it was gonna slip.â
you said it the way you apologized for bumping into chairs. for existing too loudly. for nothing.
âitâs fine,â he said, voice thin. he told himself not to look at you. he failed immediately.
you hadnât noticed. that was the worst part. you had touched him without hesitation, trusting him not to turn it into something else. trusting that he wouldnât.
mike let the screwdriver clatter onto the desk just so heâd have an excuse to steady himself. he was good, he told himself. good because he didnât react. good because he didnât grab you back, didnât trap your wrist, didnât lean into the contact and see how far youâd let it go.
anyone else wouldâve taken advantage. he hadnât. that mattered.
you slid your chair a little closer, close enough that your thigh brushed his again. your knee pressed against his again and stayed there, he didnât move away. why should he? you were the one whoâd reached for him first.
the bell rang a few minutes later after you both went back to your work. it was too loud.
you moved first. your knee slid away from his as you reached for your bag, already shifting your weight toward the door, toward whatever came next. the loss of contact was abrupt, like someone had pulled a wire out of him without warning.
mike stood up the second you did.
he didnât remember deciding to. his body just followed, sudden and anxious, like it knew something was being taken from him and wanted to keep it in sight. he hovered too close, a step behind you, pulse racing with the stupid fear that if he didnât move when you did, youâd vanish.
you were leaving.
he had no idea what class he was supposed to go to. history, maybe. it didnât matter. none of it did. he hadnât said anything meaningful. he hadnât done anything. heâd spent the entire period pretending to work while his attention kept drifting back to the way light passed through your shirt when you leaned forward, pretending it was accidental every time his eyes dropped and telling himself that it didnât count if he never lingered too long.
âare you often here at this time?â
the casual question hit him wrong, especially when you were already halfway to the door. like this was nothing. like the last hour hadnât rearranged him. âum, yeah,â he lied.
you smiled, and this one wasnât the polite version you gave teachers or strangers. it was definitely brighter as if you were genuinely pleased with the answer.
âwould you mind if i joined you sometimes?â sometimes.
his mind immediately rewrote it. often. regularly. always. the room closed in around the thought, thick with possibility. he pictured the door closed, the quiet stretching, your closeness becoming routing and the inevitable. something owed.
he forced the image down, heart hammering.
âyes- i mean, noâ he stumbled. âitâs fine. you can come here.â
you can come whenever you want, his head supplied. you already know i wonât stop you. youâve figured that out.
your smile widened, pleased in a way that made his chest tighten uncomfortably. âthank you.â
the room wasnât his. the time wasnât his. and still you were thanking him as if he had granted you permission. like the space, the quiet and the closeness belonged to him now just because he hadnât pushed you away.
âbye, mike.â
you said his name easily. the sound of it slid through him, slow and sticky, sinking somewhere it shouldnât have. his mind betrayed him instantly, twisting it into the sweet sound of his name on your lips between whimpers.
âbye,â he managed, barely more than a breath.
the door closed behind you.
mike stayed where he was, staring at the empty space youâd left. pulse loud and skin tight.
youâd asked to spend more time with him.
he told himself it was because he was harmless. because he didnât take. because he knew how to sit still and behave and keep his hands to himself.
that made him feel like he had earned your presence and now, more than ever, he knew he would never let it go.
skinny dipping part two! in which luke takes his victory prize at a cost neither of you can afford
word count: 1.28k
MDNI! warnings: smut, dry humping, p in a v, slight manipulation, casual sex but not really and luke being an asshole
a/n: i know iâm really bad at posting but like a lot of stuff happened and iâm sorry. also i kind of promised this part two so here it is! i made you wait for 5 months, iâm such a tease
there hadnât been another chance for luke to claim his prize in weeks. both your schedules had been packed with duties to keep the camp running smoothly. still, in stolen moments, there were lingering touches and whispered promises, exchanged only when no one was around to hear.
it had always been like this between the two of you. fleeting moments, shared heat and a connection neither of you dared to name. it was just something to keep the both of you entertained. because demigods didnât live long enough to get attached. thatâs what luke always said. love was weakness. an opening for the gods to exploit.
he was the one who set all the boundaries in your relationship. and you agreed. or at least, you thought you did.
until you started to notice the way he held your hand as he pushed inside of you, like he was afraid of losing you, or the way his brown eyes darkened with something deeper than lust, something close to desperation. despite every rule and every warning, something had shifted.
this night wasnât any different. luke grips on your hips was firm, almost possessive, his fingers pressing deep enough to leave bruises as he balanced you on the cold porcelain of the sink. you had barely made it through night patrol before slipping away together, stealing into the empty toiletâs stall like you had a hundred times before. but this time, there was no hurried tugging at clothes and no rushed attempt to lose yourselves in each other.
luke kissed you slow like he was taking his time memorizing the shape of your lips against his. you melted into it, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through his soft curls. a low groan rumble from his throat as his hands tightened around you, pulling you flush against him.
you should have said something. warning him of the harpies waiting for the two of you outside if he wasnât going to be quick enough, but then he lifted his head and the look in his eyes stole whatever words you might have said.
instead, you pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist in silent plea. he pressed against you, rolling his hips in a slow grind that had you gasping against his lips as your underwear dampened, your bodies aligning like they were made for this. he was murmuring your name between kisses, each syllable a reverent whisper, a solemn prayer. your clothes were still in the way, but it didnât matter. not when you could feel the heat of him, the way his body trembled against yours.
one of his hands slipped beneath your camp t-shirt, fingers dragging a trail of goosebumps across your stomach as they climbed higher. when his palm cupped your breast, his thumb brushing lazily over your nipple, you arched into his touch with a breathless whimper, begging him to do anything more than this. but he wasnât listening, so you hands went straight to his belt, fumbling with the buckle in eager anticipation. âeasy,â luke murmured, amusement dancing in his voice, his lips brushing your jaw. âweâve got all the time in the worldâ as your eyes met his, you recognized that cocky smirk but so was that haunted look of when he was lost into his mind and that you sometimes caught when he thought you werenât watching. still, he didnât stop you.
âyou still owe me,â you teased, trying to keep your tone light even as your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, brushing against him. âlast time you left me hangingâ lukeâs breath caught just for a second. then he leaned in, forehead pressed against yours, his voice low and rough in your ear with still that hint of mischief. âif i remember correctly, iâm the one who still needs to reclaim a prizeâ which sounded like he was threatening you with a real good time. âand what would you have in mind?â you asked, wishing that he was going to erase that smirk on your face in just a few seconds, as anticipation cooled into your stomach.
luke reached for his back pocket to grab a shiny little foil wrapper that made you unbutton your shorts eagerly, biting your lower lip to hide the amusement in your face that matched his so perfectly. his deep brown eyes met yours as he held you steady so you were able to slide down your pants without falling from the sink. that gaze alone was enough to make you feel safer. he could call you just his annoying friend in front of the other campers all he wanted but you both knew it wasnât the truth. perhaps he was thinking the same thing when he kissed you like he was trying to hide what was really going on his head.
between shaky breaths and the soft smack of lips, he rolled the condom on without once meeting your eyes. luke only gave you one fragile look to silently ask permission. you gave a breathless nod and he pressed into you, hiding in the crook of your neck as he slowly pushed inside. he waited, letting you adjust, his lips on your throat before thrusting inside of you. it was harder, deeper, more desperate with each movement. you hands grabbed for anything: his curls, his camp t-shirt, the scar along his cheek, the muscles in his arms. but it still wasnât close enough.
when you cupped his face and forced him to look at you, what you saw nearly undid you. furrowed brows and longing eyes as he moved inside of you in a quiet ache. he looked breathtaking, and for one fragile second, it felt like he could be yours. âluke, i-â he kissed you hard enough to make your head spun and forget what you were going to say.
then he lifted you by your thighs, spinning you to face the mirror, thrusting into you from behind. the sink bit into your hips, but you didnât care. not when you could see his reflection in the mirror in front of you. how tightly he gripped you and how his jaw clenched like he was holding back the truth. he left bruises on your waist and hickeys on your neck as he anchored himself in you, losing himself instead of confronting what was really going on.
each push sent a jolt through your body, building that pressure inside you, the one that made you feel like maybe you were flying or breaking or both. so you let yourself fall into him, into the lie that this meant nothing, as luke claimed your body. then your mind blank, lungs empty and you shattered around him. he followed with a muffled groan against your skin, sinking his teeth into your neck like a final claim.
luke stayed there for a while, still inside of you, clutching you like you were the only thing holding him together. you felt his breath slow, his hands shake and his heart pound against your back. then he pulled out pushing himself off of you, discarded the condom and stuffed himself back into his shorts. he didnât look at you once. âi need to check on the new kid in my cabinâ he said, brushing a kiss on your temple. just for a second his hand lingered on the doorframe, but then he left. leaving you in a camp restrooms alone still without any pants on.
warnings: swear words, mention of sex, implied manipulation and some slightly toxic luke
a/n: in honor of me singing this song live just some weeks ago in milan! skinny dipping part two is on its way, i swear on my mama
every tuesday, after hours spent toiling in the strawberry fields, you found yourself in the same room of the big house. the air was always thick with the scent of old books and wood polish and the maroon armchair you sat in was stiff, lumpy, and far too familiar. across from you, mr. d lounged with his usual disinterest, but his eyes watched you too carefully to be fooling anyone. beside him, chiron sat with a deepening frown, the lines on his face etched with something between concern and suspicion. they always asked you the same questions.
âdid you ever see him again?â the wine god drawled, tapping his fingers idly against his diet coke can. his tone was casual, but you knew they didnât trust you. if they did, you wouldnât be here week after week. you met his gaze, steadying your breath. âi never saw him,â you said. âand we never kissed.â
of course, you were never on the seesaw at the park just outside thaliaâs tree with luke castellan that one night, talking about your feelings like the world hadnât just fallen apart because of him. he never held you in his arms when you were cold, whispering sweet nothings while ignoring the chaos his betrayal had unleashed. you never laughed with him, remembering how the stoll brothers once covered the hermesâ cabin in toilet paper and glitter, leaving a mess that took days for you to clean. and you definitely didnât cry together when you realized nothing will ever be the same again.
because none of that happened. at least, somewhere in your mind, you think that if you can convince them enough, maybe even convince yourself, than maybe he never existed. and maybe it would hurt just a little less.
it was so easy to quickly get back on your rhythm when you were with luke. you always ended up stumbling into each other without missing a step, like you werenât supposed to be on opposite sides. logically sleeping with your enemy during wartime should be the last thing on your mind, but you wanted him there. it was the only way you could still have him.
you wanted to forget about the boy who was trying to destroy the only home you ever had. but instead, you obsessed over him and his sharp words every hour of the week. sometimes you wish you kept some of your feelings in the basement, buried in the back of your heart, because then maybe it wouldâve been easier to say no to him. if you loved him less, you would never have become his little pawn, spying on camp half-blood.
you stopped calling him out about his nonsense plan everytime he got too close to camp, probably starting to feel guilty about it. âbaby,â luke would murmur, brushing his thumb over you cheek. âweâre doing this for usâ then he would kiss you, rough and possessive, until your head spun and your mind went blessedly blank for a few seconds, before crashing back into the tornado it always was.
luke castellan was driving you crazy. maybe thatâs why they held you there every week with the god of madness himself. desperately lying and carefully tricking dionysus, just as youâd been taught by the prodigal son of hermes himself. âiâm over that son of a bitchâ you said this time, your voice flat and detached. and while chiron was scolding you about the language, mr. d didnât move or blink. his purple eyes stayed locked on you, burning into your skin like they could peel back every layer and dig into the truth. he was definitely onto you.
pyrrhic victory part one! in which luke loves winning
word count: 1.12k
MDNI! warnings: smut, handjob, fingering, swearing, nudity and reader has a female anatomy
a/n: i feel like iâm starting to have way too much fun writing smuts. hope you guys will enjoy it just as i much as i do!
you had made a bet with luke castellan. whoever won capture the flag could make the other do anything they wanted without negotiation or backing out. and that was how you found yourself on the edge of a small cliff, just outside of the protection of thaliaâs tree, watching the head counselor of the hermes cabin strip in front of you.
âcâmon, beautifulâ he said with a smug smirk on his face as he grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head, tossing it aside without a care. you let your eyes scan his toned abs a bit longer than you intended as the moonlight highlighted the sharp lines and faded scars. âitâs not like i havenât seen it beforeâ he drawled, fingers now working at the button of his shorts.
your hands hesitated at the hem of your own shirt. âi swear, if anything happens, iâm cutting your balls offâ you warned, voice sharp despite the heat creeping up your neck. luke only laughed, clearly enjoying every second of his victory while his gaze never left you as you reluctantly peeled off your clothes. then you were both bare in front of each other. you could see all those hours he spent training were definitely paying off as the sight alone made your stomach twist, heat creeping in places you didnât want to acknowledge. luke wasnât any better, looking at you with unmistakable lust.
you took the hand he offered, fingers tangling together as you stepped closer to the edge. âyou okay?â luke gently asked, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. his dark eyes were as soft as his touch. the night breeze ruffled his curls and for a split second you almost forgot to breathe. the drop below wasnât even terrifying, but the handsome boy in front of you was. then you smirked. âdonât be a pussy, castellanâ and before he could react, you yanked him forward, pulling both of you off the edge.
you flew for only a few seconds before the icy water swallowed you whole and a firm grip pulled you upward. âasshole!â lukeâs voice was sharp as he surfaced in front of you, his wet curls plastered to his forehead. his scowl wouldâve been more intimidating if you werenât still laughing, breathless from the jump. âoh, come onâ you teased, grabbing his wrist as he let you tug him toward shallower water.
his hands pushed wet strands from your face before cupping your cheeks, his touch surprisingly gentle. his thumbs traced your skin, sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of the water. âyouâre gonna be the death of me one day,â he murmured, voice low and serious. your heart stuttered. his plump lips hovered dangerously close, so close you had to grip his biceps just to steady yourself. âyouâre gonna be the death of me right now if you donât kiss meâ just as you whispered those words, luke crashed his lips against yours, claiming the space between you in an instant.
the kiss was desperate, heated, like heâd been waiting for this moment longer than heâd ever admit. and gods, you kissed him right back. his tongue slipped into your mouth, teasing, demanding, but there was no real battle. you let him take control, let him deepen the kiss until your head spun. his hands roamed your body, before settling on your ass. a firm squeeze had you gasping, your hips instinctively yanking against his. luke groaned, low and rough, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. âyou must really like me,â you teased, still breathless, âif you can get this hard in cold water.â a breathless giggle escaped before you could stop it. his gaze stayed dark and intense. his lips found your sweet spot on your neck, sucking just enough to make your knees threaten to give out. âyou know itâs more than that,â he murmured against your skin, voice thick with something deeper than lust as he pressed himself against your stomach, letting you feel every inch of him.
one of his hands slipped between your bodies, fingers tracing slow and teasing circles on your clit. each stroke sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, your body unconsciously following his lead. your hand found his cock, fingers wrapping around his length and the moment you started twisting your wrist, luke let out a guttural moan against your ear. âfuck,â he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure. the deep and desperate whines slipping from his lips alone had you aching for more. his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. âyouâre already making me regret not bringing a condom,â a breathless giggle escaped you, but it was short-lived because just as you captured his lips in a kiss, two of his fingers plunged inside you. you loudly gasped, gripping his shoulders as he pumped them mercilessly, curling just right to hit that spot that had your vision blurring. the water around you swayed violently, mirroring the rhythm of both your hands.
it felt like the world had stopped. all you could process was luke. his woodsmoke scent, his hand gripping your hair, his starved mouth on yours, the warm slickness of his precum as you stroked him, and the way his fingers worked you closer to the edge. âguys!â it yanked you both back to reality just as you were about to come undone. âshit,â luke groaned, his grip loosening as you pushed him away, your brows furrowing in sync. âare you there?â chrisâs voice echoed through the bay, and you silently prayed to every god on olympus that your friends hadnât see you getting fucked by the hermes counselor through the dense trees. âwerenât they suppose to come later?â you whispered, your heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. âi donât know,â luke muttered, looking even more spooked than you. âbut Iâm currently trying to think about the oracle to make this boner go away.â a laugh burst from your lips before you could stop it.
a few moments later, when he looked composed enough, luke finally called out: âweâre down here!â. within seconds, your friends came crashing into the water, completely naked. as they splashed around, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. âyou bet Iâm gonna get the rest of my prize later,â his voice was low, teasing, but the dark smirk on his face promised he was dead serious. you always honored your bets, but something told you luke would make sure you never stopped losing to him.
even after everything he has done and everything he will be doing you canât say no to luke
word count: 2.13k
MDNI! warnings: smut, foreplay, p in a v, sweet loving sex (because iâm a romantic sorry), reader has a female anatomy and bad english as always
a/n: donât judge pls, it took me months to write this between exams and life being shitty. i just hope you like it and i apologize for not being able to be active :(
exam season was finally over. you were just returning home after going out with your classmates, celebrating before everyone separated for the summer. exhausted and slightly tipsy, you fumbled in the dim hallway, desperately searching your apartment keys. as you reached to unlock the door, your halfbloodâs instincts flared to warn you that something was wrong. someone had picked the lock of your house.
your heart raced as you slipped the knife hidden from your boot and pushed the door open, stepping inside. the living room was dimly lit, but you knew what to expect. luke castellan was there, leaning casually against the back of your sofa, as though he belonged. without hesitation, you pressed the blade to his neck. he still smelled like woodsmoke and peanut butter, a scent that once smelled like home. "i should kill you right now," he didnât flinch, instead he chuckled at your words, the low vibration making his skin graze the edge of your weapon.
"i'm going to lay this on the couch" he smirked as you let him slowly unclasp viper from his belt and set it down as promised, his dark brown eyes never leaving yours. they had always been so beautiful, but they didn't even look like luke's anymore. your bodies were as close as they could get without touching and you could feel the cold radiating from his, so unusual for the boy you once used to snuggle with on chilly nights at camp. "It's just me, toots" his words weren't making sense to you.
he resembled the son of hermes you loved with those dark messy curls and tanned skin, but at the same time he looked nothing like him. luke castellan wasn't the sweet boy who helped you bake cookies for young campers anymore, but a traitor to the gods and to camp halfblood. he should have been that to you too, after everything you knew he had done to annabeth, chris, and everyone you loved. "how do I know he isn't also here?", because there was no way those things were actually done by your tender and perfect luke. it must have been the lord of the titans. your luke would never leave you.
his hands moved slowly, wrapping around yours to gently pry the knife from your grasp and setting it down beside viper on the sofa. "not tonight" luke murmured, his voice softer now. he pulled you closer, trailing every inch of your figure with his cold touch until he reached your waist, sending a shiver through you. your arms instinctively went to his shoulders, an old habit you couldn't seem to break. his nose brushed yours, his breath warm against your lips, his dark eyes locked on you like he was starving.
you knew you should end this. you should take advantage of his vulnerability, strike him down and put an end to the war. but you also longed for the way luke tasted of butter chapstick. you fingers curled into his t-shirt and before you could stop yourself your lips met his. he tangled his hand in your hair, making you moan as he deepened the kiss exactly the same way he knew you liked. "oh, i missed this so much," he murmured softly against your mouth, his mouth breaking slightly, before connecting with you again. he tapped gently on your thigh, a silent request, and you gave in, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried to your bedroom. the way he moved and the way your body fit against his was muscle memory. almost a year had passed since the last time he had been here, but it felt like no time at all.
the moment your back hit the mattress, luke's hands slid under your dress as he hovered over you. "are you sure?" he asked, toying with the strings of your panties, pulling back from your lips just enough to talk as his eyes were searching for any hesitation. your mind was foggy and the guilt buried too deep to surface, so you answered yes. you mostly plead him to touch you. that was all he needed. he tugged your underwear down and kissed his way along your neck, his lips exploring every inch of your skin. his mouth was frantic and desperate like he was trying to memorize you.
luke knelt over the edge of the bed, draping your legs over his shoulders as his lips trailed up your inner thighs. his hands pinned you down while his mouth inched closer to your core, your breathing growing heavier with anticipation. "castellan, you better fucking stop being a tease" you squirmed beneath him, your voice thick with need, as he smirked at your words and dragged his tongue along your folds. the boy was taking his sweet time with you, savoring every part of you, knowing full well you would have kicked him out long ago if you didn't want this as much as he did. you groaned and pulled him closer by his soft hair.
he pressed his mouth against your clit, his tongue twisting circles over it that sent waves of pleasure trough you. a loud sigh left your lips and your head fell back against the mattress. your fingers tangled in his messy curls as you gripped tightly as you were pleading him for more. his playful dark eyes met yours as his chin glistened already with your arousal. âwhat do you want from me, toots?â his voice low and mischievous, while his thumb was playing with you bundle of nerves. he was never going to stop being a fucking tease. âi want youâ you whimpered, trying to desperately pull him closer for a kiss as you cupped his flushed cheeks. he obliged with a brief provoking peck before pulling back with a grin on his face. âhow?â he asked amused. âinside of meâ you breathed, almost a whisper. âpleaseâ
you gasped sharply, your breath hitching as you suddenly felt two of his finger slide inside you. âfuck,â you exclaimed when luke started to pump them, hitting the spot that makes you feel your stomach twist. âyou know thatâs not what i wantedâ you managed to protest between breathy moans, your words faltering under the sweet assault of his lips on your neck. he only chuckled softly between kisses, his warm breath fanning against your skin. his free hand roamed over your chest, fingers teasing your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress. âpatienceâ he murmured as he tugged down the straps with ease to expose your breasts to the cool air. âi told you,â his lips found one of your nipples and without hesitation he sucked gently, drawing a gasp from you. âwe have the whole night for ourselves.â
this time you let his head dip between your legs without protesting. his tongue and fingers were working perfectly together, drawing you closer and closer to your edge. his strong grip was pinning you down on the bed by your stomach as your mind started to feel hazy and your core seemed to be twisting and unraveling at once. by the time you voice was reduced to broken gasps and choked breaths and your hands were grabbing the fresh sheets beneath you to anchor yourself, you let your orgasm hit tearing through you like a storm. luke didnât seem to be fully satisfied as he continued at his relentless pace, making you come a second time with a choked cry and a guttural, uncontrollable scream.
luke finally let you go, sweeping with his tongue your pleasure off his fingers and face to savor every trace of you. you were still trembling, struggling to steady yourself, when his low laugh broke the silence. âi missed your taste so fucking muchâ he murmured, his words full with adoration as his gaze locked onto yours. his eyes were so deep and tender, that for a fleeting moment it reminded you of the boy you fell in love back at camp. without thinking, you let yourself collapse into his lap, your knees pressing into cold and hard floor beneath the both of you, holding the sweet head counselor of the hermesâ cabin into your arms. your palm found his cheek as your finger traced his beautiful scar. âi miss youâ you breathed, the confession slipping past your lips before you could stop it. the truth that you were trying to hide from everyone, even yourself, for so long made you feel both terrified and liberated.
lukeâs brows furrowed in a mix of awe and longing, and his stare deepened, darkened, as though he was memorizing every inch of you. then, without hesitation, he closed the space between you in a raw, desperate and messy kiss. his mouth moved against yours with an open and unrestrained hunger as if he was trying to pour all of his emotions into this very moment. he separated from you not to hesitate, but only to get rid of your annoying dress and you mirrored his urgency to strip him of his equally irritating clothes. you were already out of breath again as his strong hands gripped your hips and pulled you against him, making you gasp at the feeling of his erection humping your core. âluke,â you whispered, your mouth trembling between kisses. âi need youâ he didnât waste a second to reach the condom in your second drawer from the top near your bed that he knew all too well of and roll it on himself without his gaze ever leaving yours.
you steadied yourself with an hand on his shoulders as he gently guided you down and you slowly took every inch of him. a gasp escaped your lips at the feeling of luke filling you completely, as perfect as he always fit like you two were made to be united by the gods themselves. he cupped your face, tangling his fingers into your hair, and pulled your foreheads together. âyou mean everything to meâ he murmured before kissing you. your chest tightened, for this night you let yourself believe his words, and started to roll your hips against his in search of the perfect rhythm.
each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing trough you, leaving you panting. your knees were bruising and scraping against the floor of your room. luke carefully moved your legs around him and lifted both of you on the bed behind you, pounding into you before your back could even meet the mattress. his soft moans and kind touch were the only thing keeping you grounded to the moment even as your mind was threatening to drift away under the overwhelming gratification of your bodies entwined. a whimper of his name escaped you like a prayer as your nails dug into the firm muscles of his back. his thrust grew faster, more urgent, as he approached his peak and with a groan he buried his head into the curve of your shoulder, his strong arms gripping your waist as if to anchor himself to you.
his hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he held on tightly, grounding himself as he reached his climax. his pushes were becoming sloppier, but were enough to get you through your edge following him as luke tenderly kissed every inch of your skin he could reach. âi love youâ he whispered breathless into your lips. âi love you tooâ your voice was thick with emotions, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. if only he loved you more than his vengeance against the gods.
you gasped softly when he pulled away, leaving behind an hallow ache that mirrored the emptiness you had felt every day since he abandoned you. he discharged the condom carelessly on the floor before collapsing on the bed beside you, pulling you closer against his chest. lukeâs warmth was both comforting and cruel. âcan you stay until i fall asleep?â you asked, barely above a whisper as though your voice might shatter the fragile moment. your fingers traced aimless patterns on his skin in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself. you were trying to keep yourself together, knowing that if you let yourself dwell on why he was here the tears would spill over. âlike i always doâ he promised, tugging the covers over your bodies, and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, pulling you closer as though he could keep the two of you together only with his bare hands.
but luke already had his motherâs blessing and the only thing left was your goodbye.
in which you have been waiting to be percyâs first choice since the first time you met him
word count: 1.45k
warnings: bad english and crearly ooc percy (because heâs such a complex character and i strongly believe his relationship with annabeth is fundamental for his development)
a/n: currently reading son and feeling very inspired to write a second part with older percy, but first i gotta see if at least one person gets interested in this one
you met percy jackson for the first time at 12 years old. the two of you stumbled across each other on the lakeshore by the limit of the forest, some days after him returning the lighting bolt and lukeâs betrayal. camp halfblood was a mess, trying to recover from the possibility of a war between gods and the realization of being backstabbed by their favorite counselor, and thatâs why both of you decided to search peace far from all of that.
when you approached the lake, percy was sitting into the water with damp clothes looking at the sun in front of him. it was time for apollo to rest from his work, but there were still enough light to let you see the tears on the boyâs cheeks once you got close to him. âcan i stay here?â he moved his head in your direction at the question while attempting to get rid of the tears with his hand. âyeah, sure.â
the sand and the water were still warm when your bare feet touched it as you reached the close side of the son of poseidon and sat there. sea green eyes full of curiosity followed all of your movements. âiâm percy, whatâs your name?â you giggled a little too loud at his first statement that he looked at you confused.
âdo you really think i donât know who you are?â of course you knew him. how could you not? everyone at camp talked about the little kid who killed a minotaur, returned the master bolt and saved olympus all in one week. he was a hero and a cute one as well. âiâm y/n.â
percy blushed at your words and you couldnât help but feel yourself do the same at the sight. ânice to meet you, y/nâ he had a bright welcoming smile on his face and the two of started talking for hours after that moment. sharing insecurities, passions, feelings and moments. everything that came to your minds. the both of you felt finally seen after some tremendous weeks.
that time was one of many through the years. during the school year you would send letters to each other and while at camp you would meet up when you could make time for that, between his quests and the war. it was always at that same spot on the lakeshore after dinner. just the two of you, alone.
your friendship was like a whisper, a quiet secret. you werenât that close outside of your private encounters full of emotions and doubts about your lives. percy had his friends, his adventures and a prophecy to fulfill. he didnât have the time for you.
nonetheless you didnât care if you were able to see each other just once a week because it was enough. until the letters stopped arriving in your mailbox and percy started ignoring you at camp. the first time was because of rachel and then when he started dating annabeth. you were very happy for him, but you were also crying in your cabin at night missing the guy who knew you the best.
at some point you had to move on with your life. percy and annabeth were perfect for each other. he didnât need your silly conversations anymore when he could just talk to his nice little girlfriend. so you moved on and it was like you and him have never been anything for one another. simply two people whose lives never crossed.
that was all before he decided to startle your life again. âsince when do you still pray?â his unexpected voice made a shiver go through your spine. you were in the waiting line for burning your offerings to the gods at dinner and percy was just right behind you, probably also waiting for his turn like you were. âi could tell you the same thingâ you said looking at him smirking at your words.
he seemed more mature since the last time you two had an interaction together. probably it was achilleâs curse or the weight of the war on his shoulders, but to you it was deeper than that. he wasnât the little kid crying on the lakeshore that you met years prior anymore. he almost resembled a god and you would have believed he was if you didnât know better.
âi donâtâ percy answered you with a shrug of his shoulders and deep green eyes looking at yours. âusual spot tonight?â you were at loss of words but a million thought in your head, so you just nodded. he showed you the biggest and most radiant smile ever and left you baffled in front of the burning fire.
perhaps it was stupid agreeing. after months trying to forget him, you just didnât need the wound to be open again. but you still went to that same old spot that night right after dinner and percy was already there, waiting for you. all of your doubts were swept away when he looked at you.
gods, you missed him.
âiâm glad you cameâ he genuinely seemed happy to see you, almost relieved. his hands were fidgeting with riptide as a pen and his puppy eyes were focused on yours. your heart was doing cartwheels and backflips at the mere sight of percy jackson. you pulled yourself together by focusing your gaze behind the boy and reminding yourself of your well thought argument that you prepped before approaching him. âpercy, why are we here?â
âI think we should talkâ you sighed at his answer, fixing your camp t-shirt nervously while still facing the shining water instead of his deep stare of the same color. âtalk about what?â you just wanted the boy to acknowledge how unfair he had been with you, rather than pushing you away. you wanted closure.
he placed riptide in his jeans pocket and got closer to you, trying to get in your line of sight. âi missed youâ your cheeks were flushing an unintentional bright red at his words that only got worse once the son of poseidon grabbed your hands. âiâm lost without your supportâ percyâs touch on your skin was as tender as his voice in your ears.
âyou have other people in your life to rely onâ your bitterness was shown as you scoffed. the boy squeezed your hands and gave you a sweet smile, getting so close that you could breathe the comforting smell of salt water. âannabeth and i broke upâ you pushed him away as hard as your heart sank at his words.
âiâm just your reboundâ you felt so stupid for misplacing his actions towards you. percy was there only because he felt alone and you were his last and most desperate choice. tears started rolling down your cheeks as you were overwhelmed with emotions. âno, y/n, noâ he tried to come closer but you shoved him off. âi couldnât bear being near you beforeâ his whole being was showing guilt and worry, but you could only see pity for you.
âi need to be aloneâ you were already backing away from him, rubbing your face to stop crying and trying to compose yourself. percy was frenetically apologizing as he was attempting to grab your arms to make you stay with him. âplease, iâm sorry, just listen to meâ he looked like a rumbling mess, but you couldnât have this conversation with him that day. you thought you were ready to confront him and you were wrong.
you had gotten the explanation of his behavior that you so ardently needed, therefore you could leave and you did. you just walked away from him and went straight to your cabin, shutting the door behind. you thanked the gods that your siblings were at the campfire as you started violently sobbing.
he was being unfair to you. you were just starting to get over him and then he barged into your peacefulness with his cocky handsome smile and pretty dark hair which you werenât able to ignore. the son of poseidon knew how whipped you were of him and that you would have always waited for him to affirm your place in his life, but you were tired of being left on the sidelines for when he needed a shoulder to cry on. you didnât need to be made second to annabeth or rachel or anyone else, not a goddamn prophecy either. you were going to be first on someone elseâs line if you couldnât be on percyâs.
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