"Poetrusic", By Charlie Dalton

"Poetrusic", by Charlie Dalton

Laughing, crying, tumbling, mumbling,

Gotta do more, gotta be more

Chaos screaming, chaos dreaming

Gotta do more, gotta be more!

wyd if i start writing pjo fics

can’t fucking sleep without you - elliot

Pairing: elliot x reader

Summary: when elliot can’t sleep, you come up with a new idea to make him relax

Warnings: smutt, handjob, mutual pining, cute elliot

Words: 1,2k

A/N: idk just wanna sleep next to him

——🕊

It’s a Sunday night, end of spring break. You are at Elliot’s as usual, both of you bitching about how awful school is gonna be once you get back.

His hand rakes through the bleached curls on his head, looking intently at your features while you babble about some drama he doesn’t really care about. Despite that, he nods continuously and raises his brows in surprise whenever you tell him something new. Your voice is soothing to him, that plus the weed helps calm down his racing thoughts.

The rain is pouring down, tapping softly against the windows in his room, the sky painted a dull gray with a splash of moonlight shining through.

You eventually stop talking, checking your phone to see the time. “Shit, it’s getting late, gotta catch some sleep before school,” you say, ending it with a tired sigh.

“You could just stay over,” he suggests casually, a plectrum balanced between his teeth afterwards.

“I need my stuff to get ready and shit,” you snicker, thinking he was mostly joking.

“Yeah forget it,” he mutters, tilting his head while simultaneously averting your eyes. Is he disappointed?

You and Elli have been having sleepovers through most of the break. It always ends in a heated make-out session, but you always retreat when it turns into more. You aren’t the most experienced, and the thought of doing something wrong or embarrassing yourself in front of Elliot is enough to make you back out, despite how much you want it. Want him.

“I just mean like clothes n’ makeup you know.” You shrug, automatically defending yourself because of his tone.

“You can borrow my clothes. You don’t need that makeup shit,” he says, eyes still averting and shoulders slack like he’s purposefully trying to look like he doesn’t really care.

It makes you bite the inside of your cheek. He wants you to stay. “Okay. Cool.” You reply, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Cool.”

He’s smiling up at the ceiling.

——🕊

You are laying next to him on the bed, wrapped in three different coloured blankets and one of his t-shirts. Hugging it close to yourself, you lett his scent invade your mind. It’s dead silent except for Elliot’s tossing and turning. You had said goodnight around 15 minutes ago but he hasn’t stayed still for more than a second. The bud is wearing off, and you aren’t really there to distract him anymore. It’s just him, his thoughts and the dim table light in his room. The wind is howling outside, making the corners and crevices of the house creak. Every sound is amplified, he felt constricted in his skin and he wants to touch yours. The rain is infinitely crescendoing into nothing; he feels like he’s going mad.

You turn around, looking through hooded, tired eyes at the boy before you. Legs are kicking around to adjust the blanket, arm under his head for support. His jaw clenches and unclenches in a rythm, and you figure he’s playing a song in his head.

Maybe this is the moment. Your opportunity to do what you’ve wanted, without doing it wrong. He could use a little wind down to sleep, you think.

Subtly, your body moves closer to his and slender fingers touch his bare stomach, feeling the muscles convulse under your unexpected touch. His head snap to yours, distracted brown eyes looking right at you. Without moving your gaze from his, you slide a hand downwards, feeling the ridges of his muscles and the dust of dark hair that leads underneath his sweatpants.

“What are you doing?” He whispers, craning his neck to look down at where your hand is toying with the hem of his pants. His tongue darts out to lick his lips quickly, pupils blown at your actions.

“Wanna help you sleep,” you say gently, as to not break whatever spell of confidence that has washed over you. He breathes out heavily in a near gasp as your hand slips under his sweatpants. You wait a minute there, hovering over him. In response, his hips buck up into you, trying to feel your grip around him.

Smiling softly at that, it silently confirms that he wants you, and so you grasp his dick carefully. He lets out a breath through his nose, throwing his head back into the pillow. Squeezing him slightly, you feel him hot and heavy in your hand. Never have you touched like this, but the scenario plays like a movie in your head everytime you try to sleep. Pulling him out of his confines, you quickly retract to spit into your hand. You stroke him experimentally, feeling the veins and ridges in your palm.

His moan is low and vulnerable, eyes closed in concentration. “Need this. N-need you” he mutters, feeling the pleasure spike through him as your nimble hand wraps around his dick. He needs nothing more and nothing less than this.

Your lips find his chest, gently pecking the skin there and nibbling on it while you swipe your thumb over his head, dragging the pre-cum with you to make it wetter. He bucks his hips again at the feeling, and you hear the sheets crinkle as he grabs them tightly in his fists.

“Is this good?” You ask almost nervously, continuing to move your hand up and down, twisting your palm around the tip.

“Uhuh” is all he can say, too focused on finally feeling you on him, the friction of your wet hand around his dick.

“Can’t fucking sleep without you” he says, voice cracking into a moan when you squeeze him harder. He doesn’t know it’s involuntary though, but his words sends a shiver down your spine, a heat consuming your skin.

“M’ right here” you say to comfort him, lips a whisper over his collarbone before you lick along it, your hand speeding up. He curses, running a hand over his face before reaching back to grip the pillow behind his head tightly. Sensing that he’s close, you sit up to use both your hands, working him faster and faster.

His stomach tenses, body arching into you as he lets out a ragged, exhausted moan, releasing over your hand. His hot, sticky cum coats your skin, as you keep stroking him through it.

You take your hand up to your lips, tongue darting out to taste what’s running over your fingers. With wide eyes, he observes you tasting him, his chest sinking and rising heavily at the sight. ‘Fuck’ he sighs. Sighs at the way you always manage to amaze him in some way. You fumble for a tissue to wipe your hand and his skin.

He stays silent as you crawl up next to him, pulling the blankets with you to cover both your bodies. He stretches out his hand for you to lay on, and you gratefully accept the offer to cuddle into him. He’s burning hot, still calming down from his orgasm. Your head rests on his chest.

“Always wanted to do that” you admit, biting your lip. When he doesn’t reply, a cold feeling settles in your gut. Was that too much?

But when you look at him, you chuckle.

His eyes are closed, only the two x’s on his eyelids showing, his plumb lips are softly parted and his breathing is slow.

“Goodnight, pretty boy.”

And every night I just sleep, imagining you beside me and your arms around me.

throwing up.

shadow of a heart | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke’s last day at camp and everything that comes with it.

wc: 3.1k

warnings: book spoilers and (shocker) luke being a bit toxic but its all internally

a/n: this is based on cosmic love by florence and the machine !! aka one of my fave songs of all time. sorry ik i disappeared for a while :( i hope this fic is good enough as an apology <33 also i think it is impossible for me to not talk about the stars and sky in a fic …

Luke could swear his heart was about to burst out of his chest. The sound of unclaimed children snoring and the sight of his siblings peacefully sleeping didn’t seem to help him calm down, he ran a hand through his face before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He had to calm down. He couldn’t risk fucking this day up. After all, waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and with his heart running a marathon wasn’t the most pleasant way to kick off his last day at camp. His last day ever. 

“Don’t fail, Son of Hermes. Unless you’re a coward,” The Titan’s voice rang in his ears, causing his breathing to come out short and his chest to rise up and down at a fast pace. Luke gasped for air, pressing his free hand against his chest.

His body reacted faster than his brain. His mind blinding him with a fog of fear. Fear of not being strong enough for the Titan Lord. Fear of being too weak to take out the scorpion he currently had hidden under his bunk. Fear of losing his only family. Fear of losing you. 

Luke had to take a second to remember the reasoning behind his actions. Reminding himself to not be scared, because why should he be scared? The gods should be scared, not him. If they hadn’t neglected and abandoned their children he wouldn’t have to do this. How dare they make him feel scared? After everything they’ve done to him, after all his losses, after all the times he had to press his hand against his mouth in the shower to muffle his sobs… why should Luke be scared? 

His heart slowly returned to its normal pace and Luke took advantage of it to throw his bedsheets to the side and step out of his bunk, walking in careful steps towards the door, making sure to skip over the pieces of wood that always creaked under his feet. The six years he spent under the roof of the Hermes Cabin helping him learn the best ways to sneak out without getting caught.

 At least something good came out of it, he thought. 

And even if he got caught, what would the children do? They admired him. He was The Strong and Brave Luke Castellan, the most skilled swordsman in the last three hundred years. The campers would be too intimidated to rat out their counselor. 

The certainty of his dominance over the campers was enough to fuel his last steps and open the door. Luke was greeted with a starry sky and a quiet night, the wood nymphs not humming in their sleep for probably the first time ever. He thought this was fitting. Camp Half-Blood being quiet on his last day. It’s almost as if the Camp was silently begging him not to leave.

Look at us. Look at how quiet it will be. Look at how dark the safe haven of the demigods will become. You’ll take the stars with you when you leave. 

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the loud thoughts he was having. Luke had it all planned out, all he had to do was pack his things and leave. 

No.

All he had to do was pack his things, make sure the Son of Poseidon dies, betray his sweet and brave little sister, betray you.. and leave. 

Stay. Just stay. It won’t be dark if you stay. Don’t take the stars away from your family. 

Luke was sure he was going crazy. He probably has been for a long time but he became certain of it when he gave up everything just to prove his loyalty to The Titan Lord. 

But despite all the rage he had inside him, a part of him wanted to run straight to the Big House and tell Chiron all about his wrongdoings. He wanted to get on his knees and repent for stealing The Master Bolt and The Helm of Darkness. He wanted to cry into your arms and reassure you of all the love he held for you. 

How could a silent camp be so loud at the same time? 

Luke walked to the combat arena and took Backbiter out of its hilt. The weight of it not even coming close to the weight he felt on his shoulders. His hands shook as he stared at the blade, the mix of tempered steel and celestial bronze making him feel sick. A feeling of impending doom settling in his gut.

“It can kill mortals, demigods, and immortal divine beings,” He remembered his master’s words. Luke’s reflection on the blade stared back at him, his scar being more prominent than usual.

Was he cursed? Maybe he was doomed from the moment he was born. 

He was fourteen years old when he stopped believing in salvation. The thought of there being a paradise where he’d end up happy and in peace seemed impossible to him, almost unimaginable. He had been fighting his entire life, not ever knowing peace or unconditional love a day of it. Sure, he assumed his mother loved him before she turned into... whatever she was now. But he stopped believing in the goodness of the world when he packed his bags at just nine years old and ran away from his house. After all, that’s what it always was: a house, not ever really a home. 

He was sixteen when he found his home. After two years of grieving Thalia’s death and sobbing silently in the showers—not ever daring to let Annabeth see him as weak, he found his home. He met you. Someone who would listen when he’d ramble about his mother’s homemade sandwiches and cookies, the ones he always claimed were “Kinda bad and didn’t miss at all,” never forgetting to mention that his mentally unstable mother is probably so far gone by now and probably doesn’t even remember the recipe. 

Luke twirled the sword with his right hand, trying to get comfortable with the newfound weight. He stared at Backbiter, noticing how it even made him feel scared, the darkness it held made him want to sneak into the Forge and melt it down. 

He tried to calm himself down by remembering one of the thousand times he shared stories about his mother while you silently listened. 

“I mean it, she thought those sandwiches were the peak of cuisine and yeah, I was nine so I guess it probably was, but... really? She could’ve done so much better. I suppose I can’t blame her for it, I would be a mediocre parent if someone like Hermes was co-parenting with me,” He explained while playing with your hair, his slender fingers moving in a delicate way while he kept his eyes on the campers risking their lives as they flew higher than they should with their pegasi. 

You didn’t miss the way he laced his tone with disgust when he said his father’s name, but you knew better than to reprimand him for it. “Beckendorf is totally going to fall off that damned horse,” You chose the safe answer, changing the direction of the conversation to something more lighthearted. 

Luke snorted next to you before poking your side with his free hand, “You’ve been in this camp for three years and you’re still calling them horses? Gods, what would Zeus say?” You could hear his smile even though he tried to mask it in his faux angry statement. 

“What would Zeus say? I’m sure you would love to know, Castellan. You should ask him in two weeks,” You replied, turning your head to the left to face him and poking him in the chest. You took notice of Luke rolling his eyes when you reminded him of the most dreaded time of the year: The annual winter solstice visit to Mount Olympus. 

“Don’t tempt me, angel. I’ll even tell him my sweet girlfriend was the one who ordered me to ask him about it,” He said, before leaning closer to you and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, his hand moving from your hair to your jaw, caressing it in the tender way he always did. 

“Alright, alright. I get it, you win.” 

A bright smile made its way to Luke’s face, “Just another day on the job.”

“Just another day of you being a huge—” Your statement was interrupted by a loud thud and the sound of campers screaming, begging for a medic. The two of you were quick to stand up and run to the stables just to be greeted with the sight of a group of campers surrounding a clearly injured Charlie Beckendorf. 

“Fuck, Beckendorf. I’ll go check if there is a free spot in the infirmary for you but you need to be more careful when you play around with that horse.” You turned around, trying to ignore how worried you felt for your Son-of-Hephaestus friend, ready to sprint all the way to the Apollo Cabin. 

You were a few feet away from the stables when you heard a yell coming from behind you, “It’s a Pegasus, baby!”

You screamed back a “Shut the fuck up, Castellan!” and tried to ignore the wide eyes you got from the younger campers who heard the not so pleasant word come out of your mouth. 

Luke didn’t know how long he spent in the combat arena trying to get comfortable with the weight and darkness Backbiter had, but the sun was out and shining its bright rays down on Camp Half-Blood by the time he finally got tired. He panted and closed his eyes as he felt a wave of exhaustion take all over his body. 

He just didn’t know if he was exhausted from training or exhausted from keeping secrets from you. 

“Don’t get mad but that new sword looks kinda..” Your voice had him snapping his eyes open, the sight of you walking towards him making his body feel lighter. Luke felt so relieved to see you that he considered dropping down to his knees and breaking down crying over the weight he was carrying. If he hadn’t been in a public space he might as well have done it.

“It looks kinda?” He answered, running the back of his hand through his forehead, trying to get rid of the sweat trickling down from his hair.

“Kinda shit,” You continued. “I think the sword being double edged is cool but it’s stupid to have that. When would we ever maim a mortal? The tempered steel is useless.” 

Luke gave you a small smile before looking away from you. When would we ever maim a mortal? You’d be surprised, he thought. He looked up again to meet your eyes, a frown taking over your features. Luke’s heart sank when he saw your worried demeanor. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You whispered, walking closer to him and cupping his cheeks, running your thumb under his scar before leaning closer to him and kissing it. 

Luke hummed at the sensation, he always felt less ashamed of himself and his actions whenever you kissed his scar or caressed it. He didn’t understand why but he liked having the knowledge of someone not seeing the scar as proof of his blatant failure, he liked knowing you saw the scar as another beautiful part of him—a part you loved. 

He turned his head to the left, kissing the palm of your hand and replying with a low, “Don’t worry about it. You know how I always get when it’s the last day of Camp for the summer campers.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. Luke always felt sick whenever this day arrived because he knew half of the campers he met this year wouldn’t be coming back. They’d be lucky if they even survived all the way to December. 

“No, Castellan. I will worry about it. If it’s important to you then it is important to me,” you answered, matching his low tone as you stared into his eyes, feeling captivated by the light they held inside of them. You were sure a star fell straight into them and that’s why they always reflected light and love.

Luke sighed and took your hand that was cupping his cheek, intertwining it with his.  “Fuck, I’m going to miss you so much,” he whispered, almost as if he was talking to himself. 

“You do know I’ll come back to camp for Christmas, right? Plus, we can Iris Message whenever you want. You don’t have to miss me, Luke,” you reminded him. Luke almost keeled over and vomited at the knowledge of you thinking you’ll see him again in Camp. 

“I always miss you, angel. I’m even missing you right now,” Luke answered, leaning down to steal a quick kiss just to be stopped by a hand pressed to his chest. “What the fuck?”

“You’re sweaty as shit, Castellan. Go take a shower and maybe I’ll let you kiss me when you’re done.” That was enough motivation for Luke to mutter an annoyed “Fine,” and walk to the showers. 

Luke spent more time under the showerhead than usual. It was his last day at camp, he reminded himself. He deserved to take a long cold shower without the worry of Mr. D getting mad at him for “Wasting the cold water on just himself.” He could use all the water he wanted because he was never going to step a foot inside this place ever again. 

Plus, he could use this alone time to think. Think about the finality today will bring. An end to his years at camp. An end to his loyalty to the gods. An end to his bond with Annabeth. An end to his relationship with you.

That’s probably what scares him the most–the thought of you deciding to go against him. He doesn't know if he should let you know about the things that were bound to happen tonight or if he should just keep you in the dark. 

Two frightening options: Bringing you to the light and showing his true self to you or keeping you in the shadows.. never fully knowing how broken and rotten he truly is. 

He tried to not think about the second option for too long. Because even if you did find out and he went through with Kronos’s plan causing the sky to remain starless forever, he knew you would choose to stay in the shadows for him. He trusted you and knew you would rather stay in the darkness than go against him.

The rest of his day went by faster than he wanted. He sparred with a few campers, got used to Backbiter’s weight by fighting some training dummies in the combat arena, spent time with his siblings, and sat next to you in the dining pavilion. It all seemed like a normal day at Camp Half-Blood. 

Well, at least that’s how it felt until Percy Jackson came back from his visit to Mount Olympus. 

The campers celebrated his return by lighting up fireworks and cheering his name every two seconds. It all made Luke feel sick. Why didn’t he get treated like that when he came back from his quest? All he got was a scar, looks of pity, and dead quest companions.

 No heroic welcome and no fireworks. Just burnt shrouds, mourners, and a feeling of self-loathing taking all over him. 

“Hey,” your voice made him drag his gaze away from the green fireworks lighting up the night sky. He turned his head to the right, meeting your eyes and raising a brow.

“I am pretty sure you owe me a kiss,” he said in a playful tone, taking notice of how the light of the fireworks illuminated your face just right, making the light look like a halo around you. 

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it is impossible for there to be no light and for the sky to be starless. There will always be light as long as your heart is beating and your eyes are set on him.  

“Huh, do I? I don’t think I do,” you replied, biting your lip trying to prevent a smile from taking over your face. 

“Oh, shut up,” Luke answered, finally taking your face in his hands and kissing you. He almost fell to his knees at the feeling of your lips moving against his. The kiss was like a comet’s trail, leaving behind luminous particles of Luke’s hidden secrets and unspoken desires. 

You pulled away first, trying to catch your breath as you kept your eyes closed and your forehead pressed against his. “What’s wrong?” you whispered, asking him the same question you did in the morning.

“Why do you ask?” Luke answered in between pants, his breathing uneven due to the intensity of the kiss you shared. 

“You were.. somewhere else when I walked here. Lost inside your pretty little mind,” you explained. Luke hummed when he heard your answer. 

“I just,” he sighed, pulling his forehead away from yours by raising his head. “What would you–” he cut himself off. “Never mind.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to hear it.” 

“What would you do if you woke up one day and the earth was consumed by darkness? And I mean complete darkness, no sun and no stars.” 

“Holy shit. Did you hang out with the Apollo and Athena cabin?” you held back an amused laugh.

“Just humor me for a second, please.”

“Alright, um..” you looked down, trying to formulate an answer to Luke’s strangely philosophical question. “I guess I wouldn’t mind as long as I could find you. I know I’d be able to find my way to you so I wouldn’t really worry too much.”

And that answer was everything Luke ever needed. 

He spent some more time talking to you, memorizing the way you looked under the lights of the amphitheater in your Camp shirt and necklace. Trying to enjoy it because he will never have this sight again. 

Luke excused himself with an “I have a gift for Percy, but I’ll come back to you. Just give me some time,” before walking all the way to the cabins and taking out the Pit Scorpion he had hidden under his bunk. 

There was no fear in his actions this time. His heart was beating in a steady rhythm and his hands weren't shaking anymore. The weight of Backbiter in its hilt felt perfect against his hip. 

There would be no fear in any of his actions anymore. Because he knows if he keeps you in the shadows you’ll eventually become a dark starless sky just like him.

dark!luke smut where homeboy is yappin and reader figures out he’s the lightning thief