Songs I Think The Marauders Era Characters Would EAT THE FUCK UP!!

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

MILESTONE AFTER MILESTONE

sorry ik this is cringe but HOORAH!

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.

And then the fun would begin.

The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.

Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.

He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.

You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.

How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.

Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”

He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.

He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.

But instead you kissed others.

Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.

His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.

You stayed still.

Still.

Still.

Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.

“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“

You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.

And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.

“Get some, Castellan!”

“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”

And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-

He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.

“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.

——————————————

So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.

He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”

“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”

“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.

“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.

“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.

“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.

The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.

“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”

“What?”

You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.

You met him once again.

It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.

You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.

He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.

But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.

“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”

“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“

No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.

He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.

Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.

————————————————-

The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.

He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.

And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.

The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.

He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.

That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.

He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.

“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“

“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.

What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.

Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.

“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.

You wouldn’t even meet them.

“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”

And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.

How he wished you had been sober.

u ever remember one of your fandoms "oh yeah thats right im into this too" and then dive head first into the rabbit hole again

GIGGIDY GIGGIDY

pushover

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: usually you’re the one stitching Luke up but the one time he gets to do it for you, he knows you’re milking it. no trouble!verse tags, can be standalone -> she’s an ACTRESS okay? who tf wouldn’t want luke to kiss a booboo; this was a forgotten draft for my partners in crime series feel free to read

wc: 1.2k

“OWWWW!”

The sun shines again on Camp Half-Blood peeking through Luke’s dark curls as he towers over you, laughing from his position above. Your knee is scraped after cushioning your fall, or perhaps your attack, after Luke thought it’d be funny to push you again as he walked past.

Well, today’s been kind of boring, so might as well make the most of it right? 

As a daughter of Dionysus, you do love to put on a good show.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye as you do your best to convince him that he’s maimed you but as his eyes fall to the slightly aggravated skin, Luke sighs at the way you look like a kicked puppy, lower lip jutting out as you squint up at him.

“Stop being so overdramatic. It wasn’t that serious.”

“YOU SHOVED ME INTO A BUSH!” 

The howl that leaves your throat catches the attention of other campers, who are familiar with your dramatics and your penchant for picking a fight with the son of Hermes. Luke sighs and runs his hands through his hair, groaning in embarrassment. 

Gods forbid he look like the bad guy.

“Seriously, trouble— you're acting like I pushed you off a cliff,” he grumbles finally crouching down to reach for your leg to check how serious it is. 

It’s not.

“You're a barbarian. Just because you think it's funny to push me around doesn't mean it actually is! Luke.... I can't walk! It feels like my bone is coming through. And I have so much work to do today, and now I'm gonna have to walk super slow…” you groan, still on the ground. Luke rolls his eyes and once he's checked the injury (the whole menacing palm-sized scrape) his expression softens the tiniest bit. He’s still kinda pissed off at you for being a drama queen though.

“Alright, it's not life-threatening so you're going to be fine. Look, I can carry you if I have to.”

Batting his hand away you roll your eyes, “Like I'd let you. You'd probably toss me into the lake again.” 

Luke smirks, “Probably, but I swear to the gods that I wouldn't do anything to maim you. Not on purpose at least.” It’s almost criminal how easy it is to get on your nerves—he thinks you’ve finally shut your trap until he watches you fake crawl away to get a reaction out of him. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing to everyone watching so he scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing. Luke chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your squirming frame so you won't fall as he begins walking.

“So difficult. I swear…”

“Me? Never!” you groan, flopping in his arms like a dead body. Your dead weight makes his arms strain a little but his muscles are fun to look at from any angle, so… 

You miss it when he starts speaking again, “You're too much, you know that?” A smirk grows upon your face, “And you can't get enough. The infirmary is the other way, Castellan....” Luke huffs as he turns 180 towards the infirmary, sighing softly at the way you are sprawled in his arms. But he keeps quiet because he knows how to pick and choose his battles. Something about the realization that he’d only do this for you makes him bite his lip in thought. But you think he’s trying to not laugh at you.

“What? You maim me and then you make fun of me? Haven't you done enough?” The words slip by as you peek at him through one open eye, his cheeks flushed and rosy. Hopefully, his brawn won’t expire on the short trek to the infirmary.

“You're lucky I don't drop you right now,” Luke jostles you with a lopsided grin he can’t hide anymore and it steadily gets bigger at the sound of your surprise.

“Don't you DARE, Luke Castellan!” 

Grabbing onto his mop of curls, the boy winces as his nose brushes against your wrist, and the shockwaves it sends through your system are enough to send you reeling. Maybe it’s the way you almost sway with each step he takes, smooth and steady like a sailboat even when he’s carrying you like this.

He ends up having to carry you inside the infirmary and the Apollo kids on shift stop and stare at their two best counselors in the doorway. Luke tries to ignore them, setting you down on an empty cot and getting the medical supplies he needs to treat your wound. He looks at you propped on the bed like a little princess, cross-legged and fluttering eyelashes waiting for him to clean you up. It's not serious enough for ambrosia, he thinks, so he grabs an alcohol wipe instead.

Luke looks like he's trying his hardest not to smirk as he grabs your leg and begins carefully cleaning the scrape.

“Ow! Gentle! When I patch you up after you spar I don't do it maliciously!”

“I am being gentle, stop wriggling!” Luke grits his teeth as he continues to wipe the drying blood away. He's trying to be careful, but he's clearly irritated that you're not making this easy for him.

Tossing your knee over his lap and getting closer, suddenly you go quiet at the proximity. There’s something intimate about being tended to so delicately in a room filled with people. A quiet in the chaos reserved for only the two of you.

“So what, you think I'm too good for ambrosia? Sending me off to heal like a mortal— what type of nurse are you?”

“You drunk on ambrosia for a scrape would definitely make your dad thrilled and have the both of us cleaning the stables for the rest of the week,” Luke lets out a brief snicker as he meets your gaze, rolling your eyes as you lean against the wall. His hand unconsciously rubs circles into the skin above your knee, featherlight yet firm at the same time. You try to ignore the goosebumps that rise in its wake.

Luke doesn't say anything about it while he continues to look at you. He realizes that you look quite pretty even with windswept hair and dirt on your cheek, but he can't let you see that he's noticed. Something shifts in the air of the infirmary, more overpowering than the smell of antiseptic and it bubbles in both of your chests, overflowing and seeping into the small space between you.

Not bad for a boring day, you suppose. You make him piggyback you for the rest of the day in an attempt to guilt-trip him. But the huge smile on his face has all of your campers thinking otherwise.

—

The next day, he sees you walking perfectly fine. In fact, with the way you’re rushing to scold a Hephaestus kid for almost setting the armory on fire, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you move that fast in your life.

Warmth settles on your cheeks as your eyes dart between the kid you’re yelling at and Luke’s narrowing eyes from afar, and you can’t quite tell if the rush of emotions is from what you’re doing versus who you’re really looking at.

Maybe the next time he pushes you around he’ll find out.

RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK

luke castellan x daughter of hades reader

★ relationship headcanons!!

ABOUT - cute little relationship headcanons for luke and his child of hades gf <3

WARNINGS - a little bit of nsfw at the end 💋

A/N - not my fav lol… it’s ok i think it’s kinda cute

luke castellan is the ultimate gentleman. he’s sweet, thoughtful, caring, all that stuff.

he always makes an effort to include you in everything because he knows how hard it is for you to make friends and such. he’s always inviting you to hang out with him and his friends, or taking you out to chaperone his cabin with him.

he’s your knight in shining armour. before you and luke even became friends, he was looking out for you. always saying hello, inviting you to spar with him, things like that.

luke castellan makes sure his girlfriend is comfortable in every situation. he knows you’re shy, so he tries his best to soothe your nerves whenever you’re talking in a big group of people. he’ll wrap his arm around your back and gently hold your waist, or he’ll kiss your cheek or shoulder- hoping it’ll soothe you. and it usually does, but it mostly flusters you.

he tries to spend as much time alone with you as possible. this means a lot of whisking you away to the hades cabin, because it’s completely empty.

you spend hours just talking and laying in your bed, playing with his hair as you two joke around about stupid shit.

he kinda feels superior to everyone else because he gets to know you more than anyone ever could. other than him and a few of your friends, everyone thinks you’re shy and timid. and sure, you are those things, but you’re also loving and hilarious and so so so witty.

luke castellan’s favourite thing about you is your sharp tongue. you’re funny, and dark, which makes for some really funny comments. the first time you make a joke around him, he couldn’t stop laughing. it was shocking hearing such morbid jokes some from such a shy mouth.

you are not one for PDA. you think that making out in public is weird and gross. he agrees… to an extent.

obviously, you’re not jamming your faces together ever minute of everyday, but luke is very needy.

he’s so overly touch starved and extremely obsessed with you, that if he’s around you he has to be able to be close with you to some extent.

this means holding hands, or pressing his shoulder against yours, playing with your hair, fiddling with your fingers, etc…

just small things like that.

when you’re alone, he’s a lot more touchy. and you love it- you’re as touched starved at him, you’re just better at hiding it.

luke loves to just hold you. he loves to just wrap his arms around you and bury his face in your neck, leaving little kisses all along your skin.

he loves watching you squirm and turn red when he caresses the sides of your hips. he honestly loves everything you do.

luke is extremely respectful of you and your boundaries. he’s also extremely needy. these two things can be true at the same time.

he started spending nights in your bed at the hades cabin using the excuse ‘it smells bad and is always so loud!! y/n you’ve gotta help me!!’

obviously you give in, because you love luke and love sleeping next to him. who cares if it’s against the rules?

but after the third night of just sleeping next to each other, you start noticing just how desperate he is for you.

the way he clings onto your body for dear life, how he falls asleep only after you start playing with his hair.

it’s charming really.

semi-nsfw ahead ‼️

your only issue with luke sleeping in your bed is the way he makes sure his hips stay far away from your body. sure, he’s being respectful, he’s a teenage boy- he can’t control it. but you kinda wish he didn’t sometimes.

you’ve tried talking about it with him, but you get to shy. it’s hard for you.

i mean, how on earth do you tell your boyfriend that you know he’s constantly hard for you? and that you also wish he’d tell you? and maybe that you also wish he’d go further than just the occasional boob groping or thigh rubbing?

lol so you don’t. you don’t say a word. instead, you turn around and wrap your leg around his body as you’re laying down, halfway through a sleepy conversation. you cling to his form, rubbing your hands over his back.

you hear him let out a quiet groan, looking down at you like you’re evil as he purses his lips.

“what’s wrong, luke?” you ask innocently, ignoring his clothed length fully twitching against your thigh.

he rolls his eyes and just starts kissing your forehead and cheeks, wrapping his body around yours as he tries to hold himself back a little.

“we’ve been dating for like… over a month.” you whisper, running your fingers through luke’s hair as he rests his head on your chest.

he nods slowly, which sends shivers down your spine. the feeling of his hair tickling your skin never fails to make you flustered.

“if you wanna go further you can ask.” you say quietly.

5 minutes later and you’re under him as your hands grasp onto your bedsheets, now covered in hickeys.

he’s gentle and thoughtful, always asking if it’s okay to continue or not.

he goes slow, leaving kisses all over your body as he watches you squirm and giggle quietly.

he’s sweet and caring and you love the way he makes you feel, and you love watching him go absolutely crazy over your touch.

you probably couldn’t ask for a more attentive and respectful boyfriend. he’s so polite and kind and caring- he makes you feel like you’re a princess.

being a child of hades has made it hard for people to get to know you- the real you. but luke never found it hard to know you past your name. he loves you more than life itself.

thinking about how luke castellan calls you “lovergirl” and kisses your neck and tucks your hair behind your ears and rubs your back when you’re upset and plants a kiss on the top of your head when you hug him. and also how he melts into a puddle when you kiss his scar and practically moans when you play with his hair, and how he buys you a necklace with his initials, and tells you you’re not allowed to ever take it off — and he’s mostly joking, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t, he is a little possessive like that . . .

something tells me i’m i little obsessed with them