Never Had An Original Experience Ever

older men do it better

time to read some good smutty fanfiction

Me after reading anything to do with Wally Clark

Look at me

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)

Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)

Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.

Word count: 4.8k

“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.

It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.

It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach. 

It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine. 

Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better. 

You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.

One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke. 

Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside. 

Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.

For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession. 

Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.

Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy. 

Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.

Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call? 

The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing. 

Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.

“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.

You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you. 

Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.

You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before. 

Yet, he was not there anymore.

~~~

Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..

“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.

“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:

“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.” 

~~~

Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him. 

You deserved better. 

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.

“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first. 

“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.

“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.

Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book. 

“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two. 

“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.

“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.

“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this. 

His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset. 

“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.

“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.

“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.

“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”

“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.”

“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.

“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied. 

When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip. 

“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.

Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face. 

“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.

“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.

“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”

“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.

“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.

You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.

The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.

“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.

“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”

“You punched him quite hard.”

“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed. 

“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.

“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be: 

“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”

You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too. 

“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”

“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?

“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.

“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.

He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what. 

"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.

“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings. 

“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.

“What moves?”

“Uhm—the physical contact?”

“I thought you were just touchy.”

“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”

“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”

“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”

“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.

“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.

“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.

“Kiss me, Luke.”

And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.

You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy. 

“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”

He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.

“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.

“Will you be mine, sunshine?”

“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”

“I have always been yours.”

——————————

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Marshmallow Miles

summary: prompt fill. Wally needs to get the hell out of Split River. thankfully, he finds the perfect excuse and takes you along for the ride. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut lite. fluff. AU - everybody is alive (zesty). lore established offscreen. same 'verse as Cuddle Bug.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧁

Marshmallow Miles

Wally spent the last 40 years haunting the high school. Then spent the last few months within the town limits, adjusting to being a regular student while he got his second chance at life organized. Principal Hartman, Ms. Chung, and Mrs. Moretz—the guidance counselor—banded together to help the formerly-dead reacclimate, and part of that means they all need to graduate.

Except, obviously, Mr. Martin, who Sheriff Baxter's keeping a tight leash on. Or Janet, wherever the hell she is.

Point being, Wally and his friends are still tethered to the place they hate most in the world. Even if there is a light at the end of the tunnel this time, they don't get to enjoy it until they walk across the stage, diplomas in hand.

Which means Wally? Is feeling somewhat-very claustrophobic. Skin too tight, walls closing in, suffocated and nauseous at the thought of having to spend another goddamn second in the town that killed him.

It's as he's listening to you, hanging onto your every word like psalms, that the idea strikes. Light. Bulb. Wausau? Claire's stepdad's ski lodge? You don't say!

He knows your birthday's coming up (Simon made sure to stick post-it notes in every single one of Wally's text- and notebooks to remind him) and he's been fretting over what to do for weeks. But this? This is it! Not only will Wally be able to celebrate you the way you deserve, doing something you seem genuinely keen on, he'll be able to put Split River in the rearview for a whole week.

Is it a little selfish to use your birthday as an excuse to escape? Kind of, sort of, maybe. But he's desperate to find out if he can have a life beyond this. Beyond Split River High and Number 57 and tragedy and discombobulating rise-agains. And the only person he wants to find anything out with, well, is you.

It's two-birds-one-stone, honestly, and don't you always praise his efficiency? Hell yeah, you do. His biggest fan. Besides, he will dote on you, treat you right, make you feel like the center of the universe because you are. At least, you're the center of his, and that's why he has to do this. To prove there's a future with him that has more potential than cultivating small town syndrome.

You catch him grinning that dopey little grin he gets when he's thinking about surprising you, but Maddie distracts you before you can question it. Which gives Wally the rest of lunch to plot into his tater tots.

Thank you, Maddie. Best wingwoman ever.

‗•‗

The plan comes together seamlessly. Everyone pitches in to help bring Wally's vision to life. Claire gives him the keys to her stepdad's lodge. Maddie and Charley morally support Wally as he shops for warm clothes in your size that he can smuggle in his own luggage so you stay in the dark for as long as possible.

Nicole and Rhonda, the unlikeliest of best buds, drag him into The Body Shop and Victoria's Secret—"imagine a romantic bubble bath after skiing all day?" Nicole coos. "Imagine undressing her on a bearskin rug in front of a fire." Rhonda smirks around her new vape.

That's. Really. All the convincing Wally needs to make a dent in the allowance Rodney gives him.

Wally even swallows his pride, puts on his most charming smile, and asks Xavier for his truck. He knows the only reason Xavier agrees is because it's for you, but still, a win is a win. With a general, "hurt her and I'll rip your balls off," from your platonic soulmate, Wally joyfully departs. Tosses the keys in the air and catches them, his chest feeling lighter than it has in decades.

Everything is packed in the truck and ready to go the night before. He called you earlier to impart the vaguest of instructions as to what you should bring, proud of himself for not giving anything away too soon. Even when you asked in that silly-sweet voice, pouting on the screen like a princess, "Please? At least give me a hint!"

No. No hints.

Like a child on Christmas, Wally can barely sleep, he's so excited, but he manages a few hours. Dreams of the world beyond Split River as if he's setting off on some grand adventure and not just driving a 3.5 hour span of state highway.

Tomorrow, Wally will experience a first. Something that was so far out of reach there was no point entertaining it because all it led to was disappointment and regret. Instead there were years upon years of distractions. Mock Trials and obituaries and looking at his feet when he should've looked back.

Wally sometimes wonders if those missed opportunities weren't the yellow brick road that brought him to you. Everyone else walked through The Door with him, but there's no sign of Dawn who crossed over. If Mr. Martin didn't do what he did, Wally might've moved on, and you and he wouldn't exist...

His heart lurches in his chest.

No sense ruminating. You have him. He has you. That's all that matters now. And tomorrow, Wally will have his first real taste of freedom with the only person he wants to share that moment with.

It's going to be perfect.

‗•‗

Wally picks you up just after sunrise. You're grumpy and sleepwarm and, Jesus, Wally loves you. Pouting at him like he's both a menace and your savior. Arms up, lower lip jutted out, a sweet demand of carry me before you slump into his embrace and force him to take your weight. Which he does, easily, big grin on his face as he toddler-carries you to the passenger side of Xavier's truck.

He bundles you in, sets you up with the softest blanket Claire found at Target—Yuri and Ajay not doing their jobs as devil's advocate at all as the cart filled up with Claire's suggestions. Honestly, Wally doesn't care. Especially not after your eyes brighten as you run your fingers over it, wiggling happily in your seat.

"You cozy, babygirl?" He asks as soon as he's behind the wheel and the smile you give him makes him fucking melt.

"You got me a blanket." You state, tucking yourself in more securely; shoes off, feet up, elbow on the console so you can lean over it and kiss Wally's cheek. "Thank you."

Wally blushes, he can't help it, and shrugs as if it's nothing. "I got you a bunch of things, baby," he says as he starts the truck, "Just wait and see. You're gonna feel like a princess, I promise."

You slip your hand into his, fingers laced, and he rests them on your thigh as he drives. Down the street, turn left, continue to the intersection of Main and 4th. Right on 4th, all the way to the end and then left on Pine. Drive until the highway onramp. Now Leaving Split River, We'll Miss You!

Oh God... Wally's heart pounds, blood rushing in his ears. This feels bigger than his first step off school property. Bigger than feeling air in his lungs and a drum in his chest after being hollow for so long.

Somehow, and Wally doesn't know how, you manage to talk him through pulling over, crawling over the console to plant yourself in his lap. Hands cradling his jaw, you press your forehead against his and guide him away from the edge of a panic attack.

"—got you, Wally, I'm right here, you're okay, shh, you're okay..." The steady cadence of your voice sharpens as his breathing regulates. He's holding you like a lifeline, arms fastened around your waist, heaving great gulps of air as he trembles slightly.

"I'm sorry, baby," He gasps and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Nuh-uh, no apologies, Wally Clark," You say firmly. There's a lull before you chuckle, gentle and kind, "Hey, this was a lot better than the night you first stepped across the school boundary line, right?"

Fuck, that was a mess. However, Wally wasn't alone when that happened. Charley and Rhonda and Yuri, Mr. Martin and Ajay, Mina, they were all there too, equally as overwhelmed. Rhonda threw up on Quinn's shoes. Charley passed all the way out. Yuri and Ajay were fine, fuck them, but Mina just...screamed. And then laughed. Then cried. Then screamed some more, listening to the sound ricochet off the surrounding buildings in a way it wouldn't have days before The Door.

Wally snorts, "Yeah. Sure," and finally peeks up at you. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks that he realizes belatedly feel damp. Is he crying? Weak. But you aren't judging him, simply gazing at him like he hung the moon; you're perfect person, the man you love most, and Wally's chest swells. "We're out of Split River," Wally croaks.

You beam at him, "We're out of Split River."

Holy fuck. He's out of Split River.

‗•‗

After climbing out of the truck to holler into the ether. To chase each other around the Now Leaving sign. To grab you, spin you around and fall into the grass as you and he laugh and laugh and laugh, Wally finally gets the show back on the road.

Once again, he tucks you into your seat, takes your hand, checks his mirrors and then pulls back onto the highway, the town that raised him then witnessed his death becoming a speck in the background with every mile marker you and he pass.

He lifts your hand, grazes a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes on the road and his mind on you and everything he has planned for this trip. At the halfway point, he stops for gas, shadows you as you browse the aisles for exactly the right snacks. Fondly gazes after you the whole time as you make tough decisions: Nerds or Twizzlers? Cookies or chocolate? Wally, do I want a vanilla or butterscotch pudding with my Oreos? Because that's a normal combination, what?

He's absolutely no help at all, too busy mooning over you as you flutter between the fridge and the chest freezer, babbling about how integral to your mood it is to pick the right snack. To cover for the fact that he isn't paying attention, Wally grabs a bag of marshmallows off one of the shelves when you call him out for not listening.

"These." He says, holding the bag up and then glancing at the graham crackers and Hershey's displayed at eye-level. "Maybe these?"

"You wanna make s'mores in the truck?" You ask, dubious.

"No," Wally saves himself, "Just these," and he jiggles the bag of marshmallows. They're the jumbo kind; the kind he used to bet his cousin Dennis to eat five of in one bite or else he couldn't play Wally's Magnavox Odyssey.

You consider the marshmallows for a moment and then, with a decisive nod, "And hot chocolate."

"And hot chocolate," Wally agrees, following you around the shop to the coffee station.

Wally pays for everything, hip-butting you (carefully, no spills) out of the way when you try to pass the cashier your card. He takes the bag and the tray of hot chocolate and still holds the door open for you with his heel. No fucking way is his princess lifting a finger on her birthday-slash-Wally's-freedom trip.

For every mile, you dip a marshmallow in your hot chocolate—dipping Wally's as well and feeding him, giggling when he nips or sucks the gooey sugar from your fingertips. It's silly and sweet and Wally basks in every second of it. Every second of your off-key singing, your trivia answers, your arguments over which is better, Thunderbirds or Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons.

"You know, I have been catching up on TV shows, right?" Wally laughs, "You can use better examples."

"What's wrong with puppets, Wally? Are you a pupaphobist?"

Wally barks a laugh, "That's not a thing!"

"It definitely is a thing," And you wield your phone, flashing Google as Exhibit A. "So? Are you? Just say it, you hate Jim Henson and everything he stood for."

And it's amazing. It's anything and everything and so much more than Wally could've ever hoped for. Even the quiet intervals when the sugar wears off and the early wakeup call catches up to you; your body curled up in your seat awkwardly just so you can angle yourself right to rest your head on the console and place Wally's hand in your hair.

Adorable little diva.

As you doze, Wally watches the scenery drift by, his lungs expanding more and more with every mile he puts between himself and Split River.

Eventually, he turns off the highway and onto the backroads without you noticing a thing. His fingers card through your hair, trace the shape of your jaw and cheek as he absorbs the softness of the moment and tucks it away behind his ribs. Safe and sound, to be pulled out and cherished when he's alone.

When he parks, he's reluctant to wake you. So, he doesn't. Not immediately. Rather, he spends a few minutes just resting himself, sinking down a little in the driver's seat. Then slants sideways, curls over and around you to kiss your ear, cheek, jaw.

He couldn't dim his smile if he tried, enamored when you protest at first, but then sigh, realize where you are and who you're with before groggily chuckling at Wally's antics.

"Surprise, baby girl," He whispers, letting you sit up so you can take in your surroundings.

The look on your face tells Wally he did a good job. The way you tackle him into the inside of his door and kiss him tells him he's going to have to start planning next year's surprise tomorrow, because, fuck yeah, this is exactly the reaction he's looking for.

Getting out of the truck and staring at Claire's stepdad's lodge; at the trees and the snow and the vast expanse of sky, it hits him again like a ton of bricks.

Holy fuck. He's out of Split River!

‗•‗

He doesn't wait to celebrate. As soon as he closes the door behind him, he reels you in, kisses you deep and hungry while you're only halfway out of your jacket. That's okay, he helps you get it the rest of the way off, along with everything else.

"Let me make you feel good, baby," He whispers against your skin, hands everywhere, his hips rolling into yours as he pins you to the wall beside the door. "Let me show you how much I love you..."

Wally kisses you deep, hungry, groaning into your mouth as he keeps grinding his hard cock against you, fuck, you get him going like nothing else. All you have to do is breathe in his direction and his pants tent.

Heat courses through him, curls tight in his belly and flushes outward to his limbs, God, he needs you. Now. Right fucking now, baby, come on. He carries you to the enormous kitchen island, peels your leggings and panties off and has his lips on you and tongue in you faster than you can cry out his name.

"So sweet, baby," He moans into your pussy, panting, not bothering to breathe in his greed for your taste and pleasure. "Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you."

He spears his tongue in and out of you before teasing little circles around your clit, his fingers plunging into you in place of his tongue. Wally could do this all day and never get tired; the sounds you make, the way you writhe and beg for him, Jesus, he can't imagine ever wanting anything else.

Cruel, desperate, he doesn't care what you call it, he stops right as you're about to come, shoves his sweatpants just below his balls and drags your hips off the counter to punch his cock into you. His head falls back as soon as he feels you around him, so tight and hot, "Fuck, yes, baby, so good for me."

And he sets a frenzied pace, unable to keep himself in check now that he has you like this. His fingers dig into your lovehandles, your legs hooked over his elbows. He's grunting, you're mewling your pleasure, and Wally about loses it before you do. But he doesn't. He's better than that, fucks you like a beast until you scream and shake and squirt around his cock.

It's game over after that. No way can he hold on, his body tensing, hips grinding, as he spills deep inside you. Carefully, he sits you more firmly on the counter and leans in to kiss you, soft, sated, a little blissdrunk in the afterglow. Bodies pressed together, slowly recovering, Wally strokes the arches of your cheeks with his thumbs and gives you a muzzy smile.

"You're my whole world, you know that?" He tells you and then captures your lips in a kiss that quickly turns heated, "I'll do anything for you, baby." Fuck, he's already getting worked up again, needs more of you, always needs more. "I'll die all over again if you asked me to."

"Wally..." You gasp when he rocks his hips forward, driving his cock back into you.

It's just after sundown before you and he finally check out what's beyond the open kitchen/living room space, the table and couch and ottoman and, shit, bearskin rug fully christened in sweat and come.

You and he jump on the beds with childlike glee, music blaring on speakers that cost more than Rodney's mortgage. Claire explicitly forbade Wally from using the master suite so, taking that into consideration, that's the first bedroom he fucks you in—from behind, driving his hips forward while he pulls you back against him. What? He'll do the necessary laundry.

If he remembers...

‗•‗

After a supper of haphazardly thrown together and grossly microwaved nachos, Wally snuggles you between his legs on one of the Adirondack chairs outside, under a thick blanket and dressed accordingly in the thermals and sweater and fuzzy socks he secretly bought and brought for you.

The fire pit blazes, the stars above twinkle, and the land around is a peaceful kind of dark. Not the ominous, suffocating dark Wally grew accustomed to in the confines of the school. The comfortable silence between you and him is accentuated by the crackle and pop of the fire, the scene so peaceful, Wally has to wonder if he ever experienced any such feeling before.

His arms tighten around you and he presses a kiss to your cheek from behind, watching the flames dance as you lance another marshmallow on your stick.

Tomorrow is your birthday and he intends to take you skiing. Or, when he knows you'll diplomatically decide to trade skis for slippers, he'll bring you back here at noon and spoil you rotten with presents and a homecooked meal; that bubble bath Nicole suggested (thank you, Nicole), and a long night on that bearskin rug (thank you Rhonda).

It's going to be an incredible week, he assures himself. And on Saturday, the others will arrive while he takes you into the resort town to explore so they can set up your big surprise party. Yuri will grill in a t-shirt, and Charley will force everyone to play '90s boardgames he died too soon to play, and Rhonda will make everyone take shots whenever Wally gives you heart eyes just to watch the messiness unfurl.

Claire will probably reprimand him for fucking in her parents' bedroom, but Wally doesn't care. Because it means he celebrated you right. That you and he had fun. That there's evidence of the fact that, for the first time in 40 years, holy fuck, Wally made it out of Split River!

🧁___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Anxiety.

a smutty flashfic explaining how not. clingy. Wally is even when he thinks you're mad at him but won't tell him why.

“You’re delusional”

“Your wet” GOT MEEEE!

Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

  You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?” 

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him. 

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him. 

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.” 

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.” 

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

 He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant. 

 “What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.” 

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously. 

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?” 

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

Rewatching school spirits is so funny because wtf do you mean Claire is evil, Xavier’s a murderer, they still go to group, yuri and quinn barely exist, what do you mean there was a teacher stealing thousands of dollars and a cheerleader blackmailing him for grades i forgot all this shit

how to grow boobs no borax no glue