The Best Day

—the best day

pairing: anthony lockwood x reader

summary: just some domestic fluff with lockwood

warnings: none

note: this is short and bad and i'm really sorry :((

"what do we have here?" lockwood entered the library right when you were setting down the macarons you had baked. "did you make those yourself?"

despite his usual appearance, he was wearing comfy clothes. some joggers and an old hoodie that you loved, because it was so soft and the material didn't scratch your skin when you would cuddle with him.

you nodded proudly "it wasn't easy, but i did it"

"you did" he beamed, giving you a quick peck and taking one of the cookies, before he sat down in his arm chair, enjoying the baked good. "amazing darling, like everything you make"

"thank you" you smiled "do you want to play cards? i wanted to ask lucy but you came back at just the right time"

lockwood took another bite of the macaron, savoring the delicate sweetness. "cards sound perfect," he replied, setting the half-eaten treat down. the library's cozy ambiance enveloped both of you as you fetched a deck of cards from a nearby shelf.

you settled on the plush couch across from lockwood, the deck of cards in your hands. as you shuffled, you couldn't help but notice the warmth in lockwood's gaze.

"shall we make it interesting?" lockwood suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "what do you mean?"

"winner gets a wish," he proposed, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

you chuckled, finding his suggestion both endearing and enticing. "alright"

the card game unfolded with each turn, accompanied by laughter and the occasional teasing remark. lockwood's eyes never left you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence.

after a few rounds, the cards had gotten abondened by the both of you, lockwood leaving his place on the armchair and rather cuddling with you on the couch.

he was caressing your cheek, while your were leaning close to his chest, breathing in his scent and listening to the steady rythm of his heartbeat that always calmed you down.

"i won" you muttered after a few minutes

"huh?" lockwood opened his eyes, looking at you

"i technically won" you repeated "the count was at three for you and five for me"

"you're right" lockwood closed his eyes again, smiling sleepily "what is your wish, my darling?"

"that we stay like this forever"

"i promise" he kissed your forehead, before he held you even closer, making you hear his heartbeat

"okay"

you close your eyes, cuddling even closer, slowly drifting to sleep to the beat of his heart.

—fearless

pairing: george karim x gn!reader

summary: george admires you deeply. not only because you're his partner, but because you have an extraordinary gift

warnings: slightly suggestive if you squint, mentions of dying, ghosts, the usual

note: i just noticed, that this was probably the last george fic i'll ever write. it was so fun to write and i love george with all my heart. i hope you guys like it!!

the stairs were rusty and every bit of wood was making a sound when you were walking over it. george was following you and even though you knew it were his steps behind you, they still made you turn around and check. just to be sure.

lockwood and lucy were inspecting the first floor of the house, while you had decided to accompany your boyfriend upstairs, feeling like a type two wasn't far away.

george had been impressed by your ghost fighting skills ever since you had joined lockwood and co. you were one of a kind, able to talk to ghosts and calm them down.

george had been a bit suspicious of you when you had told him and lockwood what you could do.

"sure" george had said "you know, when it gets dark i can fly"

lockwood had noticed the look you where sending his friend and had known right in that moment that the two of you were a match made in heaven. or at least thats what he liked to claim.

in reality he had to seperate the both of you, because you kept making each other more angry.

after your first case george had apologized to you and the rest was history.

"do you have the chain?" you turned around to look at him

he patted the bag hanging from his shoulder. you could hear the silver clinging and nodded relieved. "good"

he followed you into one of the bedrooms and closed the door. he put down the bag and started laying down the chain, while you inspected the walls. "not long" you mumbled while checking the temperature.

"i can feel it too" george got up from the ground and watched you closely. you closed your eyes, feeling over the walls and hearing voices fill the room. you gasped, walking backwards, right into george's arms.

"what is it?" he asked worriedly.

"it was an accident" you mumbled "she isn't angry"

as if on cue, a ghost emerged from the wall. she was flowing in front of you in a constant motion.

"then what is she?" george voice slipped into a light panic.

"sad" you answered softly.

even without your special talent, you were able to notice that the ghost in front of you was the opposite of angry. she wasn't even coming closer. her long hair was flowing in the air and her eyes looked so regretful you almost wanted to pack everything up and leave her alone.

"hello" you said instead.

she looked confused at your try to talk with her.

"i'm y/n" you continued. you pointed behind you "this is george"

george raised his hand hesitantely "ehh, hi!"

"and you're maddy, right?" you asked and the ghost smiled "your mum told us about you" what she left out was any information about how her daughter had died. now you were wishing she hadn't. the eyes of the little girl made you so sad, you almost couldn't concentrate. but you had to.

"yeah" george added, unsure if she could understand him as well. but you had told him she could, as long as he was holding onto your hand.

that was another extraordinary thing george had noticed. you were even able to share your talent, by touching other people. he could only admire you for using your power. he had never met someone less scared of ghosts than you. not even lockwood.

no ghost could scare you, he thought. not even wraiths. most of them would calm down by your presence alone. maybe it was that they had no one to talk to before, or it was just something about you. maybe your smile or your kindness that they could feel and would keep them from hurting you.

"mum" maddy repeated and george's eyes grew soft when he heard her voice. it was a lot to see a young girl as a ghost, but her voice tore his heart open.

"yes" you smiled sympathetically. "she moved, that's why she's been gone"

"because of me?" maddy asked.

you shook your head. "no, sweetheart. she wanted to take her with you, but she didn't know how, so she called us"

maddy smiled.

it was true what you were saying. her mum had been too scared to hurt her or destroy the ghost form of her daughter, while she had sworn that she was a friendly ghost. but she wasn't sure how she would react to the strange agents in her house. she had thought that maddy would be angry perhaps. that's why you came as prepared as you were.

lockwood had promised the woman to safely secure her daughters source, so she could take her with her.

"teddy" maddy said simply. your eyes wandered around the room, until they landed on a chair, a little teddybear sitting on top of it.

"this one?" you asked, picking up the bear.

maddy nodded.

"okay" you smiled. "we will put it under this net. you will be gone for some time, but we will give it to your mum and when you wake up, she will be there, okay?"

"okay" maddy said and george was surprised how easy it was to deal with her. almost too easy. as if on cue, you could hear loud sounds from downstairs.

"the man" maddy said fearfully

"what man, maddy?" you asked, hearing lucy cry out your name "you have to tell us, okay?"

"the angry man" maddy said again "he is screaming and he is mean"

"it's alright, sweetheart" you tried to calm her. george had never seen a ghost be scared before. "wrap her source" you took out the silver net and held it in george's direction. "we will make him leave" you assured maddy "and you will be with your mum"

"okay" maddy nodded and the next second she was gone.

"what now?"

"we have to get rid of an angry man" you smiled, leaving the room and dashing down the stairs to help your friends.

lucy and lockwood were in the middle of a fight with the ghost, when you entered the living room. "y/n" lucy called relieved "maybe you can-" she jumped to the side, escpaping a chair the ghost had swung at her "talk to him"

"i'm not sure that will work" lockwood panted, throwing a few saltbombs. "it won't take him long to come back" he fixed his suit.

"we have to find the source" you turned to george, who nodded at that. "you go" you told lucy and lockwood "we will take care of him"

"are you sure?" lockwood asked and you nodded, making a gesture for them to leave the room. "okay" lockwood said "we'll be quick"

"i know" george took his position next to you

"how about some netflix and chill after this?" you asked as soon as your friends had left the room

"y/n!" the shock on george's face made you giggle

"what?" you laughed "a perfectly normal question if you ask me"

"you are always flirting in near death situations" george rolled his eyes

"yeah" you smiled smugly "but it got you to sleep with me, didn't it?"

"oh my god" george hid his face in his hands

"shit" your words made him look up. the ghost was slowly materialising again. you losened your belt, holding it in george's direction

"are you getting undressed?" george asked and his voice seemed to be a pitch higher than usual

"no" you dragged the word out "the belt is filled with saltbombs. i want you to get behind him and throw it, in case my plan doesn't work"

"what plan?"

"just do it, darling" george complied hesitantely, but did eventually walk across the room, behind the patch where the ghost was slowly coming back.

"hello" you muttered "maddy already told us about you"

"a talker" the ghost bid back, in a voice that send shivers down your spine. he seemed to be intrigued by you, which held him back from attacking you. well at least for now. "did she now?"

"she's scared of you"

"did you destroy her?" he was a lot calmer than he was before, george noticed, so he relaxed a bit, having new found trust in your abilities

"no" you said, truthfully "her mum is moving. she couldn't leave her behind" you explained "where did you come from? you weren't mentioned"

"i wasn't mentioned?" he repeated, laughing sarcastically "this is my house. i was here before any of you were even born" he screamed the last part and george was ready to throw the belt.

not yet, you mouthed in his direction. "we want to find your source. you'll be at peace" you said

"you want to destroy me" the ghost corrected angrily, but to george's surprise you didn't falter at his tone, but rather matched it.

"we want to save you" you said between clenched teeth "there's a clear difference there. let us help"

"you can't fool me" the ghost laughed

"fighting me is a lost cause" you crossed your arms "we got the best listener in the country. she will find your source and any fight will be in vain"

"you're foolish" the ghost muttered "you can talk to us and you don't use it for bigger things? we could rule the world" he clenched his fist, raising it diabotically.

"sorry" you smiled "i have a date at seven"

in the exact same second, as the ghost began charging at you, lucy called from the next room. do it you mouthed in george's direction. "contain it!" you called to the next room, moving on your feet quickly, to dodge the ghost's closer coming form.

george threw the saltbombs and a second later, the ghost disappeared. lockwood and lucy came back into the room. lucy held up the silver net, which was wrapped around a book.

"the bible" she said "who would've thought?"

"i don't care about his source" you shrugged your shoulders "let's get maddy back to her mum"

your friends nodded. leaving the house close behind you. ghosts like the second one where the true threat to your world, but maddy was the opposite. you didn't use your powers in a wrong way, like the man had claimed. you were doing the right thing with them. helping people who weren't able to help themselves.

on the way out you interlaced yours and george's fingers, thankful that the world you were living in had at least brought you both together.

THIS.

WIPs are still works in progress even if no progress has been made on them for a while.

i’m so glad you like it ❤️

💄 - a short descreption of yourself, a fandom and a gender preference and i'll ship you with a character

hii,I saw this and I had to send this ask

so I'm a female with brown hair and brown eyes who loves music,books and staying at home lmao

you can ship me with whoever you want from the mcu

tyyy

love,

nicky <3

i'm so sorry this took me so long my love!! but here is your ship:

i thought so long about it, but i always came to the same conclusion: mcu peter parker being the best fit in this case.

especially because the two of you are the clostest in age (considering civil war/ homecoming).

just like you, peter loves music and especially showing his playlists to you. i think it would be a big topic in your relationship, always exchanging song suggestions and having a shared playlist, where you can add songs the both of you like.

i saw this tiktok about a boy creating a book where he noted down his opinion and rating for every taylor swift song and that is so peter coded! he is a swiftie like you but not as invested and i feel like he would love to do that for you. he actually enjoyed listening to the songs and sharing his opinion with you.

he doesn't really read but would sometimes read a book or two you suggested him.

he spends most of his time outside as spiderman, swinging around the city, but making stops at your house to just chill or eat and watch some sitcom you love.

he would sometimes take you swinging with him, but only when he was sure it was safe and not too cold outside.

after a long day of being spiderman he just likes to come chill at yours, switching into his pyjamas and cuddling with you while watching a movie or playing a game.

you two would probably go to the same highschool, where you are known to be one of the longest lasting couples, considering peter and you have known each other for years and probably starting dating when you guys were like ten lmao.

in conclusion, you would get along great, growing up together and influencing each other in positive ways!!

i hope you like the ship, thank you for participating!!

love, lizzy 💗

—the last time

pairing: anthony lockwood x sibling!reader

summary: you always throw yourself in harms way to save your friends and especially your brother, this one might've been too far

warnings: mentions of dying and getting hurt

"what the heck happened, lockwood?" barnes was folding his arms "we talked about this"

lockwoods eyes wandered from the ambulance and lucy and you back to barnes. he almost couldn't look him in the eyes. barnes was right. this wasn't the first time this had happened. actually, they had a few conversations about it already and lockwood could see that barnes was at his final point.

"this is exactly the reason every other agency has supervisors"

"we aren't like the other agencies" lockwood quickly argued

"believe me, i know" barnes was massaging the top of his nose "the other agency aren't causing me headaches"

"i'm sorry, inspector"

"this isn't the first time i heard that, lockwood" barnes sighed

"i know" lockwoods eyes wandered back to your shivering form "but it will be the last" he assured "i promise"

"i will take you up on that" barnes nodded, before his eyes turned softer "i'm really sorry for what almost happened today" he patted the boys shoulder

"i know" lockwood nodded, biting his lip as to stop the tears from flowing. barnes pity didn't make it any easier.

the inspector send lockwood another brave smile, before he raised his hand to wave at lucy and you, finally walking off to his car to leave the scene.

later in the evening when you were all home and you were laying in bed, lockwood came to talk to you.

"hey" he muttered softly, sitting down on the edge of your bed

"hi" the guilt was already crawling up your neck

you were a bit stunned when he got straight to the point. "you realize that this was extremely stupid, right?"

your eyes wandered to your hands that were playing with your book.

"what was is this time, y/n?" lockwood continued after your lack of an answer "you fell out of a window" he reminded "just a few metres more and you would be dead right now"

"i'm sorry" you muttered

"why do you always do that? why do you throw yourself in that kind of danger? why don't you never think before you jump?"

you shrugged your shoulders

"we talk about this a million times and you never change the way you behave on cases" he closed his eyes shortly, trying to keep his cool "i pull you out for a month, you come back, behave for like two days and then everything starts all over again. you nearly die every second, barnes is waiting to ban us from the job and the bills pile up more and more. i don't know what do to, y/n. i don't know how to fix it"

you weren't used to see your brother like this. his brown teary eyes stared at you and you felt like crying too. never before had he let you know anything about the struggles he was facing. he was your older brother after all, he was supposed to solve everything on his own. or at least that was what he always thought his job was.

"i don't know how to help you"

"help me?" you repeated "you don't need to. there's nothing wrong with me"

lockwood sighed. more exhausted than ever before. "stop pretending you're okay for a second, alright?"

"i'm not" you protested weakly. you could see in his eyes that heknew you were lying

"you don't have to prove anything. not to me and not to anyone else" he assured. then he leaned forward, inspecting you closely "why do you always save our lives at the expense of yours?"

"i don't"

"yes, you do" he nodded "that is why we are having this conversation now and the last hundred times it happened"

you sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to just leave it

"i'm trying to pay you back, anthony" you said, finally giving in

"what?" he asked stunned "pay me back for what?"

"for saving me and sacrifing so much to take care of me"

he almost looked angry at that "what are you talking about?" he asked "you don't owe me anything, alright? there's nothing you would need to pay back! and when it comes to a dangerous situation i'd rather get hurt than have you in the crossfire"

"no" you shook your head in protest "when it comes down to it, there's one of us that needs to survive and it's not me"

you could see the surprise in his face, before he had even said anything to that. his eyes welled up with tears again. the question he asked next would've probably been deemed silly by you, if it weren't for the seriousness of the conversation and his voice breaking while muttering the words. "y/n" he said softly "do you even want to be alive?"

you gasped, taking a moment to comprehend the weight of that question. "yes" you answered, truthfully "but i could never let something happen to you, don't you understand that? you're all i have left and i couldn't live without you, it's pretty selfish probably" you shrugged your shoulders "i didn't know what would happen to george and lucy as well. none of us is qualified to lead an agency, so they would probably lose their jobs. you're important to all of us, anthony and in comparison no one would care if i suddenly disappeared"

"i would" his voice made you look up "i will always care about what happens to you and though i understand your reasoning i cannot accept it. i wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you and george and lucy wouldn't either, you're as important as everyone in this house and we won't tolerate you acting like your life doesn't matter"

"but i-"

"no buts, young lady" you giggled at that "i'm your older brother and as long as you're living under my roof, you're going to follow my rules. that includes not jumping out of windows before knowing for sure that there is water underneath them or better not until i told you to jump or it is the safest option to survive, you hear me? survive"

"okay" you nodded

"we will work on this together" lockwood assured "and i will try to not get myself in any situation that would even make it necessary to be saved, alright?"

"sounds good"

"but you're still grounded"

"fine"

he hugged you, happy that you had been honest and that you accepted what he had told you. he kissed your forhead. "after all you're all i have left as well, don't you forget that"

"i won't" you said, looking into his eyes and feeling a bit of the guilt disappear into thin air "i promise"

i‘m at a loss for words! this was amazing, babe 🫶🏻 i’m so in love with these two!! i’d love to be added to the killerverse taglist if possible! i can never get enough!

pls make them canon before i die of frustration lmao 😭🫶🏻

when the sun came up (i was looking at you)

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x fem reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: your poisoning in the woods and everything that comes after

content: angst + hurt/comfort. reader is poisoned which leads to aggression/hallucination; she gets restrained. general near death experience content ?

notes: title from out of the woods by taylor swift. these guys are NEVER escaping the trauma of the woods loll

The door slams inward, and the entire Apollo cabin goes silent.

There’s about ten campers inside, a few of them clustered around the cot in the center of the room. Every single one of them turns to face Luke with the same look painted on their faces.

Panic.

“Where is she?”

They part like the Red Sea, avoiding his eyes and scrambling to disperse throughout the room. Luke’s on autopilot, his eyes darting around the room for any familiar face as he pushes past those who don’t get out of the way fast enough.

A girl named Mary - or Maria? - is sitting by the window. She looks quickly down at her feet when he catches her eye. Beck blinks wide eyed at him as he side steps out of his line of fire.

(Something out in the forest. Screaming that could be heard from three cabins down. Uncontrollable aggression.)

“Luke,” Miles says, the only one brave enough to stand in front of him. He plants a firm hand on his shoulder, his brows knitted together. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

His hand gets shoved off immediately. Luke can’t believe what he’s saying to him — the disapproval in Miles’ voice at his presence in the cabin. He scoffs, trying to cool down the anger that threatens to flare up.

Hyperthermia, someone else had said. It doesn’t take a child of Athena to know the risks of it. You’re somewhere nearby, in pain, and Miles has the gall to tell Luke he shouldn’t be looking for you.

Luke’s badly contained temper comes back with a vengeance.

“You should fucking know better. She’s my…” Luke’s breath shakes as he inhales. “She’s my best friend.”

Miles wilts and turns to his siblings, looking for backup. Not a single one meets his eyes. He’s torn in half, clearly fighting with himself over something.

(“Luke.” Warmth around his wrist. Your hand. “Please hold me.”

Red palms. Your dried blood between the creases on his hands — the lines you’d trace while half asleep, leaning against his shoulder while trying to get some rest.

The coldness of your hands. Chocolate bars so rich you have trouble eating. The suffocating sterility of the hospital.

The entire goddamn state of Pennsylvania.

Luke won’t do it again.)

“Tell me where she is,” he snaps, his voice bordering on a snarl.

Luke Castellan is not above begging.

It’s quiet. Miles’ siblings are staring at the two of them, unashamed. Luke can see the guilt in all of their eyes.

The younger boy is frowning. “We’re not supposed to—”

“So what?” he grits out. “Do you expect me to sit around while she’s fucking dying?” Miles is silent, and Luke scoffs. He turns to the rest of the campers, his gaze sharp enough to hurt. They remain quiet.

“If none of you tell me, I’m going out there to find her myself.”

Miles is frowning. Luke turns his back on him. “Wait, Luke—”

“The river by the strawberry fields.”

It’s one of the older Apollo kids. Luke’s known him for a while, and he couldn’t be more grateful. The boy, Carter, is sitting on the cot that his siblings had been crowding around earlier. There’s a cut over his eyebrow and he’s clutching a bag of ice to his cheek. When his hand drops, Luke can see the tell-tale signs of new bruising.

“She’s hyperthermic,” a girl next to Carter confirms after she glances at Miles wearily. “Whatever got her out there was poisonous. We couldn’t break her fever.”

“A few of them just left for the river,” someone else offers. “It’s the coldest source of water nearby. They have to help her cool down, or else…”

She trails off, but she doesn’t need to continue for Luke to understand. The pity is rolling off her in waves.

What should be a comfort offers him nothing but the realization that it’s all real. You really are dying, so sick that the Apollo kids are at a loss of what to do. This isn’t another night terror — a messed up idea his mind has come up with to torture him.

It’s real. And this time, waking up won’t save him from it.

He can only hope he looks as grateful as he feels when he mutters out his thanks.

“Luke,” your friend Liza calls before he can get too close to the door.

She’d done your hair for you just last week, perfectly woven braids you’d shown him with a grin. When he faces her now, there are unshed tears in her eyes. “You need to be careful. She’s- not herself. And she’s scared.”

Uncontrollable anger. The red mark on Carter’s face is beginning to make more sense.

The other kids standing around the cabin give Luke tentative looks, although he’s not sure why. Do they expect him to cower at the thought of you hurting him? Surely they should know by now.

He turns away from them and starts in the direction of the river.

—

It’s not that far, just a left out of the Apollo cabin and about a five minute walk towards the woods. If he goes fast, he knows he’ll catch up with you in no time.

The short distance is why Luke hears you before he sees you.

As he gets closer to the river, the quiet sounds of nature are drowned out by the words of the Apollo kids standing over you.

“Ah, shit— Lucy, hold her.”

“Gods, I really don’t want to, but if this is going to work, we’re going to need to—”

The girl gets cut off by a scream. A warped plea ripping itself from your throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” another voice says in pity, and the fear that’s wrapped itself around Luke’s chest begins to constrict his lungs.

He’s by the water before he can even realize that he started running. There’s only three healers here, but the way they’re huddled around you still manages to block you from view.

He has to remind himself to breathe, to continue inhaling and exhaling so he doesn’t pass the fuck out.

In.

(Three jagged lines, angry and red hot.)

Out.

(Pus oozing from the gapes made in marred skin.)

In.

(Cold to the touch. The weight of your unconscious body on his back.)

Out.

It’s stupid. They’re trying to save your life, trying to keep you from cooking yourself from the inside out, but Luke takes the closest Apollo kid by the back of their shirt and drags them behind him, breaking the iron tight ring of people hiding you from view.

Your hands are bound.

Golden fabric circles your wrists, locking your arms behind your back. The girl, Lucy, has both of your legs secured under an arm while she tries to work another strip around your ankles.

Luke sees red.

He bites back the venom threatening to spill from his mouth.

These girls are young, he tries to remind himself through the anger that’s burning hot in his chest. They’re scared too.

He drops to his knees, hands moving immediately for your bindings. The same hands that have held him through nightmares and his mother’s fits are locked together and held by your own weight into the dirt.

Your shoulder is inches away from his hand when Luke is yanked backwards harshly. It feels like an electric current shakes his skull when his head hits the stones lining the river.

“Luke,” Casey, the girl he pulled away, says his name frantically. His vision is swimming, but he pushes himself up onto his forearms despite the ringing in his ears that tells him to stay down. “We really didn’t want to, but she’s getting violent, she—”

When the world comes into slight focus, he can see the unmistakable footprint shape pressed into the front of her t-shirt. Maya, the girl by your head that’s trying to help Lucy ease you into the water, has a raw scratch going down the expanse of her arm.

Despite your bindings, you’re putting up a fight. You lock your knees before thrashing out, knocking Lucy back a few inches as you try to jab Maya in the nose with the back of your head.

“It’s everywhere!”

It takes Luke a second to even recognize your voice as your own. It sounds like your larynx has been shredded, the usual cadence of your voice unrecognizable to his ears.

Casey doesn’t bother trying to push him back down when he surges forward for you.

It’s the first good look he’s gotten of you since this morning. You’d eaten breakfast together like always, your knees knocking against his whenever you got super into the story you were telling him and Chris.

When it was over, some of your friends ended up dragging you away for the rest of the day. There was an apologetic grin on your face as you waved at him from across the pavilion.

He should’ve gone with you. Should’ve, should’ve, should’ve.

His fingers are already working to loosen the knots at your wrists when he remembers he should say something. “Killer, it’s me,” he says, trying to tamper down the waver in his voice.

The golden fabric falls limply to the ground. The skin below it is rubbed raw from your thrashing, and the sight makes Luke want to empty his stomach. He tries meeting your gaze, but your eyes are squeezed shut, your face turned away from him as you sob.

You need to calm her down, Luke thinks to himself. Stressing her out is going to worsen everything. Calm her down.

He thinks about his nightmares, about the sweat sticking his shirt to his back and to his bedsheets. You’ve helped him through it countless times, what feels like every night since his quest.

You had seemed so sure of yourself from the very start, like brushing his hair from his face and knowing exactly what to say was second nature to you. He’d hold you on those nights and fall asleep to the feeling of your gentle exhales against his chest. Luke doesn’t know a place safer than with you in his bed, one of your arms thrown over him and the rest of you tangled together.

Luke clenches his hands, trying to will the shaking away. He doesn’t know how to do that for you, and it makes hatred fester in his chest.

He pushes stray strands of hair away from your face before moving to untie the fabric at your ankles. The other girls have long backed away by now, know that trying to stop him would be useless.

You’re quiet. Painfully so. But the moment your legs are free, you move like you’re being fueled by fire. Luke barely dodges the swipe you make at his face as you kick your leg out in a wide arc. He flattens himself against the ground, and you wrestle yourself on top of him, your legs curling around one of his and locking him against the dirt.

He’d taught you how to do this.

Lucy lets out a startled gasp, and Casey moves forward to drag you off of him, but he holds up a firm hand, the message clear.

Stop.

You waste no time. Your hands string around his neck, constricting in a way that's sure to leave bruises. Your eyes had been pressed firmly shut earlier, but now they’re blown wide. The sclera of your eyes are red and aflame, and your constricted pupils are swallowed up by the color of your irises.

Your face is devoid of any emotions. You don’t recognize him.

As the airflow to his lungs slows, it would make sense for his adrenaline to propel him upwards, to get him to wrestle you to the ground and pin your arms. He’s done it before and could do it again, despite how difficult you make it.

But there’s another part of his brain that’s taking over, dragging him away from his instincts to protect himself.

Because it’s you.

The same way his natural battle instincts have been hardwired into his brain, it’s like his body has a visceral reaction to being with you, to hold you in his hands and shelter you from everything else.

Luke rubs soothing circles into the backs of the hands that are wrapped around his throat. They’re searing hot.

“Kill-er,” the syllables are stilted, coming out intermittently whenever he can manage to get air through. He’s surprised he can even speak right now, knowing the strength that courses through your veins. If you’d wanted him to, he’d be down for the count.

You’re going easy on him.

He moves his hands off of yours to hold the back of your head. Sweat runs down from your forehead, your body working tirelessly to cool you down. Your wild eyes dart across his face frantically, taking him in for what seems like the first time. Confusion and recognition is flickering across your face.

It’s then when Luke sees the puncture wound on your neck, the mark green and sickly and throbbing at your pulse point. He brushes hair away from your face.

The grip around his neck begins to loosen slightly, and he takes in as much oxygen as he can through his gasp for air. He takes your hands in his again and squeezes once.

“It’s me, sweetheart. It’s Luke.”

The tension you’re using to lock his legs into place dissipates. You blink hard, like you’re trying to come back to yourself.

He should throw you off of him now, he knows he should. Your hands are no longer tight around his throat, and the heat of your body where it's pressed against his is unbearable.

“Luke,” you rasp. “Luke.”

“It’s me, it’s me,” he mumbles, the relief pouring through the cracks. He lets go of your hands to run a soothing hand down your back. The back of your shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Your face cracks. You lean down close to him, your face curling in anguish.

“Luke, they’re everywhere.” Your voice is quiet, like you’re trying to tell him a secret no one else can hear.

He nods before he knows why. “I know, I know. It’s why we need to take you to the water. It’ll help, killer, I promise.”

You’ve gone a little boneless, your arms giving in as you collapse against him. The heat emanating from your skin is growing oppressive, and he knows he needs to move. “I can feel them, Luke. It’s everywhere.”

“I’m sorry, I know,” he says again, heaving you upwards. One of his hands goes to the back of your head as the other secures itself around your lower back. He repeats his words into your hair as he inches both of you closer to the water.

He’s going to have to let you go. Letting you cling onto his body heat isn’t doing you any favors, but he finds his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt when you wind yourself around him.

Hold her, everything in him seems to say.

So he does.

“Luke,” someone says, snapping him out of your orbit. It’s Casey, standing ankle deep in the water in front of him. He’d almost forgotten anyone else was here. Maya and Lucy look on from the grass with matching concerned expressions. “You have to hurry. There’s not much time.”

There’s a water nymph standing a few feet in fromt of them — this must be her river. She’s cocking her head at you curiously, and when Luke sucks in a broken inhale at the sudden drop in temperature, he knows it’s her doing.

The fabric of his pants gets soaked through with the icy water immediately, but he sinks deeper into the river despite it. You jolt in his arms the second the water comes up to your chest.

“Luke,” you sob, your grip around his shoulders growing painfully tight. “I can’t, I can’t, I—”

He pries your face out of the crook of his neck regardless of the way you’re protesting.

Luke is shivering. You are far from it. You’re even making it worse, trying to wrap yourself around him even with the heat that’s threatening to kill you.

When he knocks his forehead against yours, he says your name, your real name, with as much force as he can muster.

“Do you trust me?”

Luke has no idea what tricks your mind is playing on you. He doesn’t know if the poison will take five minutes or ten hours to leave your system, and has no idea if this water will even help you. Your organs could fail in an hour and this entire thing would have been pointless. He could be lying to you right now, giving you false hope that he can fix it all. But pressed so close to you, he watches as your eyes dilate, and he knows that you’ve placed your trust in him.

The tears that have collected in your eyes spill over, running in rivulets down your face. He wipes them away with careful hands as you slump in his arms. Luke presses another kiss onto the high point of your cheek.

He works to unwind your arms from around his neck, and you groan like it physically pains you. He’s mumbling apologies the entire time, laying you on your back as the salt of your tears mixes with the freshwater of the river.

He knows he shouldn’t be touching you, shouldn’t be giving you another source of heat, but you give him a look that breaks his heart when he tries to loosen your hold on his wrist. He folds. He leaves a comforting hand against your shoulder blades as he scoops water to pour over your head.

He doesn’t stop until he hears your teeth chattering from the cold.

Luke doesn’t torture you with the distance any longer. When Casey gives him a look of approval, he tilts you upward to pull you back into his chest. You fit perfectly into the dip of his shoulder, and he holds the back of your head as close to him as physically possible.

The two of you sit there and listen to the sound of the shifting water around you until your skin begins to prune. He holds you there, feeling your steady heartbeat against his until his breathing evens out.

—

Your hands are cold again.

Luke remembers how they had felt when he had sat by your hospital bed and tried not to cry.

But this time, the cold is comforting. You’re not burning up anymore, your body no longer threatening to swallow you whole.

He had Carter check your temperature. And then check it again fifteen minutes later. Your temperature is a perfectly healthy 98 degrees fahrenheit.

He watches your chest rise and fall underneath the blankets. And then he presses his hand against it just to make sure it isn’t a trick of the light.

He cares about you. A lot. But he knows you’re going to drive him crazy with worry by the time you’re both twenty-five.

Luke sits with a towel wrapped around his shoulders as various Apollo kids come in and out to check on you. It’s not that he doesn’t trust them, but being more than fifty feet away from you isn’t something he thinks he can stomach right now.

He would’ve probably sat in his drenched clothes all day if someone hadn’t threatened to kick him out for dripping water all over the floors. Chris had come by to drop off a change of clothes from the cabin, and had left him with warm sweatpants and the hoodie he had given you a long time ago. There were paint stains on the sleeves from that one time the Apollo kids had dragged him into crafts with the younger campers, and the edge of one of the sleeves had long since worn away with age.

It was your favorite of his, oddly enough. He was more likely to find it draped on your frame than on his.

(“Hey, Castellan,” Chris had joked the first time you’d stolen it from him. “Nice outfit.”

You’d grinned, prodding him with the point of your shoe. “Think I wear it better?”

You did.

For the rest of the night, Luke wondered why he felt so weird after Chris had referred to you with his last name.)

He puts the hoodie aside for you and sits in the plain shirt offered to him earlier instead. The fabric of the sweatshirt smells like you now. It’s not his anymore.

Someone clears their throat from behind him. He turns to find Casey leaning against one of the beams, staring at the two of you with something swimming in her eyes. “The poison’s run its course. She’s on the mend.”

“Right,” Luke says. He’s too tired to say much else, and he’s still bitter about the way he had found you, sobbing with your wrists tied around your back. He’s trying hard not to be angry at them, so he avoids looking at the injuries left behind on your skin. “Thanks.”

She doesn’t move from her spot, watching and observing. Luke waits for her to spit out whatever it is she wants to say.

“You’re lucky, Luke.”

He fights the urge to scoff. ‘Lucky’ is probably the last word Luke Castellan would use to describe himself. If he was really lucky, you’d be sitting by the lake with him and he’d be rubbing sunscreen over your back so you wouldn’t get burned. “I’m lucky that my best friend almost died?”

She purses her lips. “That’s not what I meant.”

Your light breathing rustles the thin sheet over you and he slips his hand into yours. Traces the veins at your wrist.

“I meant that you’re lucky to have each other. I can tell the two of you are close.”

He wants to laugh. Close. Luke wants to think that after a lifetime of having each other, you’d be considered something more than close.

“She wouldn’t have made it, if you hadn’t shown up.”

He had known that, of course. But hearing her say it out loud makes it too real. You’d almost died. Again.

“I know Miles kind of chewed you out earlier, so I’m here to apologize on his behalf. You’re a really good guy, Luke.”

He turns to face her. Her red curly hair is messy, like the stress of the day has worn her down.

Luke finds his lingering irritation dissolving. She’s just a kid.

He nods at her and decides to not acknowledge her compliment. “Thanks for apologizing.”

She turns on her heel quickly, shutting the door behind her.

“I am pretty lucky.”

Luke can’t turn around faster. You squeeze his hand three times and he feels the weight on his chest lifted.

“Sorry that I keep doing this to you.”

You’re halfway smiling. He smiles, too, even though he feels dead on his feet.

He drops half of his face into your stomach, and you move to scratch at his scalp. He sighs. You smell like the cool freshwater of the river.

“Yeah. You should be sorry.”

You sit up before he can protest and kiss the mess of curls on top of his head. You don’t seem to mind how they’re damp and gross, threading your fingers through them and dragging your nails in that way you do.

Luke wants to hold you forever and hurt anything that’s ever looked at you wrong. He wonders how you’d feel if he went back into the forest and sent whatever did this to you back into Tartarus with his bare hands.

“I’m never letting you go out into the woods ever again,” he says instead.

“Oh?”

“You’re living up to your nickname, killer. Each of these hospital trips takes a decade off my life, you know.”

“My bad.”

He drags your hand out of his hair to slot your fingers together. “If I ever catch you in here again, I’m killing you myself.”

“Duly noted.”

“I’m serious. If I see you within thirty feet of this cabin again, you’re in for it.”

You laugh, light and sweet. You do your mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

He doesn’t get up from where he’s laying on your chest, and you don’t move an inch for a while.

“Thank you, Luke,” you say after a bit. “I would’ve been dead, like a decade ago, if you weren’t around. You do so much for me.”

He squeezes your hand. “I’d do anything for you. I’d even let you strangle me a hundred more times.”

You sit up abruptly, and Luke knows he’s fucked up.

“What?”

Your hand goes under his chin and you force him upwards before he can stop you. You tug the neckline of his shirt down and he tries to protest, but he hears you gasp and knows it's too late. He can’t see your expression with the way you’re inspecting the column of his neck, but you are silent the entire time.

“Gods, Luke…” You say after a while. Your hand drops quickly to your lap like just the sight of the bruising has burned you. “I tried to- tried to kill you. I didn’t realize what I was doing. I’m so… I didn’t know-”

He shakes his head, meeting your gaze head on. You’ve started tearing up again, your eyes trained on the splotches of purple around his throat. “Wasn’t your fault. Don’t even imply that shit. You weren’t yourself, do you understand?”

Your hand is limp in his when he reaches for it. The two of you sit in the quiet of the Apollo cabin again, listening to the sounds of the stray campers that walk past the windows outside.

“I can’t believe I did that. I deserve to be locked up. I’m a monster for doing that to your pretty skin,” you say absentmindedly.

Luke cracks a smile. He thinks he’d let you drive a knife through his heart and still say it wasn’t your fault.

“I didn’t understand what was happening. But I could… feel everything.”

He runs a hand up your leg, soothingly. “You don’t have to—”

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head. “I couldn’t really see ‘cause my vision was all screwed up. But I wasn’t scared.”

“I was,” he admits readily, squeezing your thigh.

If one of you dies first, he hopes it’s him. He’s had a taste of you dying twice already and isn’t sure what would happen to him if he had to watch it really happen.

“I wasn’t. ‘Cause I could feel you,” you say. You’re looking right at him but seem so far away. “I could hear your voice, but I couldn’t tell if it was you. But I knew you were with me when you were stroking my head like you do when you try and put me to sleep. And I wasn’t scared anymore.”

Luke feels like someone’s torn open his ribcage and shoved his organs back in.

Is this normal? he wonders. To feel this strongly about your best friend?

He stops himself from surging forward and taking your face into his hands.

What would he even do? Luke isn't even sure himself. He forces the ridiculous thoughts from his head and pulls your hand up to kiss your palm. He presses his mouth into the center and moves down to your injured wrist and then to the warm skin by your pulse.

You let out a watery laugh. “You’re stuck with me for life. Until the end.”

He smiles into the skin of your wrist. You’re joking, he’s sure of it, but he wouldn’t mind forever with you.

Luke stands up for the first time in what feels like hours. He nudges you forward on the twin sized cot, and you let him settle behind you. It’s a slightly awkward fit, but you don’t seem to care, lying comfortably against him. Your body is warm where it's pressed to his chest and Luke knows he could do this forever.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he says lightly, pressing a kiss into your hair. He doesn’t want to think about how serious he is. “So don’t get sick of me yet.”

You tuck yourself under his chin, pulling his arms around your front. Something inside of him clicks, like turning on a light, or slotting something into place.

When you turn around to kiss his cheek, it borders dangerously on the corner of his mouth.

“As if I’d ever be sick of you, hero.”

notes: will i ever give her a break? i guess we’ll never know! i cant tell if i dislike this bc im sick of reading it or if i didnt edit it enough 😭 so kindly let me know if u enjoyed :)

tags — lmk if u want to be removed/added!

killerverse: @yoremins @qtkat @mischiefmoons @cedricsleftelbow @syraxesrevenge @whiteoakoak @acourtofdeppressionandanxiety @dummie-dummiest @softtina @amberpanda99 @luvvfromme @3alamari @esposadomd

luke castellan: @chasebeth @silkenthusiasts @urmomsbananabread @sunny747 @randomgurl2326 @repostingmyfavs @au-ghosttype @mrsaluado @holy-macncheese-balls @catluvwr @katemlk @lukecastellandefender @wonuskie @kitkat-writes-stuff @bugcuti3 @bookworm-center @justanotherkpopstanlol @quinnsadilla @tinolawithrice @jjenjoysthings @marisrope @cantstoptherecs @anotherblackreader @iamforeverandalwaystired @siriusly-parker-main @mclando81 @amortencjja @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @amoreva