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formulaa-1 · 2 months

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the place i left behind — luke castellan // explicit

luke is on the run. things would be going perfectly if only he could stay away from you.

pairing: luke castellan x reader

word count: 2.1k

content: smut/explicit content, oral (f receiving), slight choking, coming in pants, afab reader, unclaimed reader, weed mention, a bit of angst but it’s all for the plot

🎧: the place i left behind by the deep dark woods

it was a bad idea for luke to come back to camp. you knew it; he knew it better. returning after what he had done wasn’t just stupid — it was a death sentence.

but here he is, tapping on the window of the cabin you used to share.

you meet his eyes through the warped glass and his face curls upward into a lazy smile. hey, he mouths. it knocks the wind out of you, sudden and disarming; seeing that familiar grin makes your chest ache.

“hey,” you whisper back, knowing he can’t hear you. hoping he can read your lips, knowing you won’t get your breath back until you can see him face-to-face.

outside? luke says, gesturing to the door of the cabin. moonlight falls in bars through the windows, illuminating a stripe across the worn brass doorknob.

you nod. the simple motion makes you nauseous. this isn’t safe. you’re going to get caught. you’re going to get him caught, and then—

you’re standing in front of the door before you know it. cold brass meets your fingertips and you bite your tongue, pretending you don’t feel how your hands shake as you turn the knob with a soft click.

outside, it's hot and humid. the air seems to hang in place for a split-second before luke is on you; his arms wrap around you and his face finds a home in the crook of your neck. this close, you can feel him breathing, feel the muscles shift as he inhales and exhales.

your fingertips roll over luke’s back — over his deltoids, those powerful ropes of tissue hooked into the bones of his shoulders. you joked about him being missing a pair of wings before, but that was before this.

before you could feel exactly how much potential he had shifting under his skin. before he squeezes you and murmurs into your pulse, “shit, angel, i missed you.”

hearing that nickname from his mouth feels like someone has ripped a hole in everything you are. luke smells like sweat and sunscreen and just a hint of weed smoke, and he missed you.

“i missed you too,” you breathe, and luke reaches up to hold your face in his hands. his forehead presses to yours, his dark curls damp against your skin. the bridge of his nose brushes yours, quick, barely-there.

you pull back, lacing your fingers with his, and he follows. it’s almost like nothing’s changed, you think, the two of us sneaking out, the closeness. the rhythm between the two of you picks up just like it would any other day.

except luke’s hair is longer, creeping uncut towards his eyes, and there are new scars on his hands and his back. there’s a knife on his belt and the outline of a gun — a mortal gun — silhouetted through the white fabric of his tank top, the metal of it still cold despite being pressed against his stomach—

you wonder if he knows how to use it. if he had lined up a shot, pressed the barrel against someone’s chest or forehead or the underside of their chin, and pulled the trigger. you wonder how luke’s face would look spattered with blood.

you wonder how it would feel to wipe that blood off of him with your fingertips or a wet rag, sitting with his knees bracketing your hips, just like every other time you’d cleaned him up.

—and luke had never held you like that before; like he was afraid to lose you before you could even say one word to him. like crushing you to his chest would keep you there forever.

“why did you come back?” you ask, praying that he won’t say what you already know.

luke sighs and rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “you get right to the point, dont’cha?”

his voice is teasing, low enough that a few of his words blur together. y’get right to the point. his thumb moves in twisting, concentric circles around the ridges of your fingers. his eyes dart up to yours.

luke reaches to cradle your face again, his knuckles grazing your cheeks as his palms flatten, one at a time and molasses-slow, against your jaw. “i wanted to see you,” he says.

there it is.

you step back and luke follows, matching your steps until you feel the rough-hewn stone of the cabin wall against your back. “you shouldn’t be here,” you whisper.

that lazy grin finds its way onto luke’s face again. “what, you scared?”

you don’t respond, and luke tangles his fingers in your hair before pulling your forehead back to rest against his. “hey, are you— are you scared of me?” his voice falters; his thumb moves in tiny circles at the junction of your jawbone and your neck. he frowns. "angel, c'mon," he whispers.

you shake your head. tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to bleed. “i’m scared for you,” you breathe.

you reach up to cup luke’s face with your hands, mirroring his posture. “but i’m not scared of you.”

slowly, you wrap your fingers around luke’s wrist and drag his hand away from your face. his fingertips run down your neck, across your collarbones. his hands linger for a split-second longer around your chest before his palm flattens against your stomach and he leans forward.

luke stops at the loose hem of your camp shirt. “can i?” he murmurs, hooking two fingers under the fabric. his thumb resumes its movement over your hipbone, calluses catching on the exposed strap of your underwear.

“can i,” he repeats. “please, angel?”

this is a terrible idea. luke tried to kill you. he tried to kill your friends. he nearly started a war between the gods. he’s a traitor, a walking betrayal.

luke is your best friend, and you have missed him more than anything.

the soft yes barely leaves your mouth before luke steps forward that final inch, caging you against the wall.

his hands slip under your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you only briefly self-conscious before he finds your mouth with his. he kisses you hard, bruising, biting at your bottom lip. he makes a sound low in his throat, pulling you impossibly closer.

“i missed you,” he murmurs in the tiny pockets of air between your kisses. “fuck, angel, i missed you so much.”

“i know,” you say. i missed you too.

luke presses kisses to your lips and your cheeks. your jaw. the bridge of your nose. please stay.

he buries his face in your shoulder and laves his tongue over your pulse, drags his mouth from your neck to your collarbones to just above your navel. in his wake, a trail of reddish-purple bruises unfolds under your skin.

luke speaks in half-caught sentences into your skin. “i’m so sorry,” he whispers. “i miss you so much— so much, i’m sorry, angel.”

when he finally sinks to his knees in front of you, his lips slightly parted and his breath coming in shallow gasps, luke lets his head drop to rest against your hip. his pupils are blown wide, swallowing the brown of his irises with desperate, inky want.

“lemme taste you,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your exposed hip and stomach. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and continues murmuring into your skin.

your hand finds purchase against luke’s collarbone and slides to rest against his throat; you match his jugular vein with the junction of your thumb and your palm, stroking the sides of his neck gently.

his breath catches, his heartbeat fluttering wild and needy against your fingertips. you half-expect him to pull away or to move your hand and continue kissing his way down your body.

instead, luke tips his head back that extra inch, his gaze flicking up and down before finally holding yours. his eyes are glossy and his mouth is open. his chest heaves against your thigh, trying and failing to control his breathing.

“are you sure?” you ask softly.

luke nods so feverishly that you worry his head will split from his neck. “c’mon,” he murmurs. “you know i wouldn’t ask if i didn’t want it.”

you do know, and it’s for that exact reason that you slide your thumb over luke’s adam’s apple again, pressing down just enough to make him gasp. it’s a broken, strangled sound, breathy and rough, and he sings it into your hipbone as he drags your shorts down your legs. the fabric pools around your ankles, and luke closes what little space is left between you in an instant.

he hooks his fingers under the sides of your underwear, toying with the lace idly as he mouths at the ruined fabric covering your cunt.

“gods, luke,” you say softly, tangling one hand in his sweat-damp hair and tugging. it’s more to test the waters than anything, but luke groans and shifts underneath you, and—

—and he’s hard, rolling his hips into nothing, chasing friction that isn’t there. his eyes, half-lidded and glassy, meet yours. you shiver — luke’s eyes are dark and intense, barely containing the want that lights up both of your bodies.

gods, he’s pretty like this, too, you think. who knew boys could look so good on their knees in the dirt?

luke pulls your underwear to the side and presses a quick kiss to your clit, mumbling in half-sentences as he laves his tongue over your soaked cunt. “my darling,” he breathes, dragging his hand up your thigh and reaching between your legs, sliding two fingers into you easily. “my angel, my everything.”

you rock your hips against his face, tightening your grip on his hair — which must be crossing some wires in his brain, because he shudders and points his tongue, flicking it against your clit as he curls his fingers.

“luke,” you gasp, tension building in your stomach. “i— i’m close, luke, please.”

luke looks up at you and smiles. you can feel his dimples against your inner thighs for a split second before he doubles down on his efforts, licking and sucking until something inside you snaps and you cum with a stifled moan, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

between your legs, luke licks his lips. “beautiful,” he says. his voice is raspy and he takes a deep breath, in-out, in-out. “there’s my girl. there you are, baby.”

you slowly sink to your knees next to him, your heart thudding against your rib cage like a trapped bird. “luke,” you whisper.

“yeah, angel?” he asks, wrapping one arm around you and tugging you closer. his fingers trace unseen patterns on the expanse of your thigh and you shuffle closer still to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. you can taste his sweat, electric and desperate. the smell of sex is probably all over both of you.

there’s a dark spot on the front of luke’s shorts and he tenses up when you slide your hand up his thigh. “did you— just from that?” you ask.

“oh, shit,” luke says, looking down. “uh— fuck, angel, i—”

“it’s okay,” you say, leaning forward to press your forehead to his again.

he sighs, tangling his fingers back into your hair. “i know.”

the two of you stay like that for what could have been minutes or hours before luke presses a kiss to your jaw and murmurs, “i have to go.”

something in your chest twists. the words slip out before you can stop them: “i don’t want you to.” you press your nose into luke’s hair and inhale the smell of sweat, of smoke. your fingers find the straps of luke’s tank top. look at this barrier. look at what’s keeping you apart.

“you know i can’t,” he murmurs, and you swear the crack in his voice breaks your heart all over again.

"i know," you say, tucking your head into his chest. "but i don't want you to go." you look up.

luke's eyes sparkle, brilliant and terrible, and when he kisses your forehead you can feel tears landing in tiny constellations across your head. "you deserve better," luke whispers. "better than me. than all of this."

do i? you ask yourself. and: do i want it?

when luke kisses you one last time and stands, drawing his sword out of nowhere, you know it as well as he does: you don't want better.

when he leaves — when there is nothing for days, when your dreams are haunted by the memory of his lips against yours and the smell of his hair, you know.

you only want luke.

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formulaa-1 · 2 months

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when someone almost jumps on you in the pool

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formulaa-1 · 2 months

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Grover Underwood Guides You When You Get Lost

Pairing: Grover Underwood x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, being protective, nuzzling, sharing clothes, comfort

A/N: I don't know how he's the oldest of the three yet the most wholesome somehow? Like Percy and Annabeth have each other, they protect each other but I wanna protect Grover.

You never thought you'd get lost, you knew how to read a map, you had a good sense of directing, going on a hunt would be easy

At least that would have been the case if it wasn't the worst weather possible and you got separated from the rest of your group

Knowing not to panic you tried to find your way back to the Camp but it was getting dark fast

So you knew you had to be more careful when moving around

The slightest sound set you off and you were ready to fight only to see Grover skipping toward you and colliding in a big hug

Of course your boyfriend would be one of the first to come looking for you when you got lost

As soon as others returned without you he took off into the forest to look for you before something happened to you

Grover couldn't seem to let go of you for a few minutes, constantly asking if you were hurt or feeling sick

He nuzzled his head against yours, a gesture of comfort on his part

Since he's a satyr he can handle colder night time a bit better then you can so he gives you his jacket to warm you up

He also brought emergency water and snacks for you, and some for himself but mostly for you

Grover holds your hand through the whole trip back

Not just so you don't get separated but so he could know immediately if there's something wrong by the strength or slacking of your grip

When you take a break to drink water or eat something you can see his ears moving, listening, keeping watch

Kisses your cheek every time he feels your hand shiver and tells you how strong you're being

He knows getting lost is stressful for anyone, no matter how much experience they have

Doesn't let you sleep alone that night, he knows you could use the extra company

#percy jackson and the olympians x reader #grover underwood x reader

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formulaa-1 · 2 months

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Potatoes and White Amaryllis

Day 9 of celebration marathon

Older!Grover underwood x Aphrodite!gn!reader

-ask: I read your rules so I was wondering if you asked Grover to like touch his little horns on his head like as a crush and Percy and anabeth see it and kinda of tease you two about getting together. IDK IF YOUR COMFORTABLE WRITING IT BUT IF YOU ARE PLEASEEEEEE

-£ him in the third book he was simping. And I changed it to teasing Grover.

-£ warnings: dabble, so much fluffiness, he’s just so adorable and needs more love, based on what I have read so far of him but maybe a bit oc?

no path was left unturned by the love you two had for each other. but circling around without ever meeting was the problem. one aways trailing behind the other, or waiting there in place until unfortunately going again. and it was draining to watch for the other campers.

grocer chased after you like a lost puppy, but you were just as bad with a smile on your face when you saw him. he helped you with anything you needed and never failed to make you laugh. it was obvious how shy he was around you, and how he looked at you like nature itself. the only one to not realize his feelings was you, being just as blind yourself.

“What do you think of theses?” You held up a potato you grew yourself, being someone who doesn’t have the powers for plants you still loved them. This potato you had grown in a pot near your bed after you begged your siblings to letting you keep it there. You wanted to prove yourself.

Grover examined it with his eyes and thought for a second, he hummed out in question as you watched anxiously. Grover was playing with you knowing full well that it was good, you never failed to grow anything.

“Just as perfect as the others,” he flashed a bright a smile as you exhaled in relief. “You really need to stop overthinking.”

Rolling your eyes you picked up the small basket of the others and carried it against your hip. You started to walk along the path as he followed like he always did.

“No one in my cabin likes dirt. But I like it, even like to play in the mud— I just wanna be good at this, is that a crime?” You look at him and he saw the shy smile on your lips and the sparkle in your eyes. he could stare at you all day and never get tired of it.

“No, no. I don’t think so,” he stopped at the end of the path, you needed to go into Demeter's Cabin and both of you now stood in front of the door.

You looked at him for a second and then giggled, “Can I touch your horns?” You looked so sweet and soft that it made his heart flutter.

Grover nodded his head a little to aggressively for his own liking but placed his tilted his head so it was easier for you to reach. the sweet sounds coming from your lips of light laughter caused him to blush a dark red.

Reaching up to his hair and feel the horns on his head for a second, he freezes and tries to stay still but wants to look up again at you. you step back and bring something down when you pull your hands back. he sees a small twig with a small leaf attached to it. he is even more embarrassed now that he wants to run away as fast as he could.

“I think a flower would look better,” you let go of the twig, “I think white amaryllis would suit you quite well.” you nod your head and walk away from him as he stares at you with puppy eyes. he waited until you are out of sight and into the Cain until he groans and covers his face.

“I’m such a idoit.” He speaks to himself while sighing.

“That you are.”

Grover swings around to see annabeth standing there with her arms crossed, and Percy with a huge smirk on his face. Both of there eyes mischievous.

“Hey guys!” He waves his hands. “Fancy seeing you here.” Maybe they could leave him a bit of dignity left.

“You didn’t trip this time,” Percy teased and went up to the boy and pulled him in by the shoulder. “That’s upgrade.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Grover flushed.

“Yes, you do. Following them around camp, looking at them with hearts in your eyes.” Annabeth rolled her eyes.

“Oh y/n, you’re so perfect. Oh, y/n let me carry that for you.” Percy tried to mock Grover’s voice and acted silly in love like Grover did. The satyr pushed him away and tried to walked away from them.

“And you were just geeking out about them touching your horns, I swear you were going to kiss them.” Annabeth followed shortly behind him. She made Grover blush more.

“You’ll be a couple in no time! I’m sure.” Percy patted him on the back.

“Guys stop, this is embarrassing!”

taglist: @maria699669 @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows

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formulaa-1 · 2 months

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am i oscar piastri?

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formulaa-1 · 3 months

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Dark Luke Castellan hijacking the reader, I can't deal with the end of the series.

WHAT IS LOVE?

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: was it love if he did it for you? for a better future? the gods were his enemy, but he wanted you by his side away from harm.

warnings: during luke’s betrayal, angst, ooc luke

a/n: tbh i had no idea how to write dark!luke castellan, so i kind of wrote him kind of desperate and insane and a lot neglected because of the situation and kronos manipulating him.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

“Luke. What?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. Luke is holding your hands. You thought he’d took you into the forest to makeout (maybe more), but no. He was asking you the unthinkable, the impossible.

To join him. To join him side by side with Kronos the Titan.

At first you’re in denial. “Don’t joke like that.” An awkward giggle emitted from your lips. “You shouldn’t tell that joke to Percy. He almost met him.”

Luke squeezed your hands. A firework exploded behind him, allowing you to see the details of his face. Your stomach churned. Luke’s eyes are missing that warmth and affection he always had.

In its place is determination and power. “Come with me.” He asked again, firmer this time.

Your smile dropped. This the same Luke that gave you his dessert at dinner, right? The same Luke that held you when nightmares felt real?The same Luke that told you he loved you? Right.

You were willing to forget this, put it behind you like nothing ever happened. He probably hit his head or had a really really bad nightmare. “We should get you checked out, hm?”

“Nothing is wrong with me.” Luke said and unsheathed Backbiter. He let go of your hands. Luke wouldn’t hurt you, would he? Another firework, Backbiter gleamed in the pink. “Let’s go.”

“Luke, you can’t possible believe—”

“Kronos has opened my eyes!”

You flinched. His interruption scared you. “He showed me the gods treat their children like pawns, like shit. Me! You! Will, Silena…Thalia, even Percy!” You wince at the mention of your late friend. “I should’ve known. Ever since I saw my poor excuse for a dad—I’m not getting used anymore. I don’t want you to get used anymore.”

“I don’t want you—us to keep getting neglected because of our parents. We don’t deserve it.” Luke pleaded, trying to open your eyes in a new light.

“What makes joining Kronos any better?” You cupped his cheek, thumb brushing against his scar. The same scar that reminded him of how little the gods cared.

Instead of softening up to your touch and leaned in, he was still, tense. “I would be the son of a Titan—a Titan who sees me for who I am!”

“Luke…” You said softly and held his face. His eyes flickered, they glistened with moisture as he listened to you. It was like he was still there. “I don’t know—I don’t know what you got yourself into, but—for fucks sake snap out of it!”

“Do you hear yourself?” You asked.

The twinkle in your boyfriend’s eyes died out as if he was reminding himself of his purpose, his quest for Kronos. He stepped back from you. Daunting questions weighing in your head.

“Were you the one…that released the hellhound after Capture the Flag?” You asked, putting the pieces together.

“Yes.”

“You tried to kill Percy—Luke…you have to know that is so fucked up!”

“The gods are my enemy!” Luke shouted and gripped your arms. He looked you in the eyes. “You…you are still my sweet, sweet, naive girlfriend—you don’t get it now…but know this is all to protect you, protect us from harm, war.”

“Naive?” Your eyes widened. That was the only part you got out of it.

“Yes—no. Not naive! Fuck!” Luke huffed in frustration and ran his fingers through his chocolate curls. “Just…just—come with me—either way, I’m not leaving you when war breaks out.”

“Stop it.” Your heart was breaking into two, seeing like this. It looked like he was battling with himself, in his head. Tears brimming your eyes.

You hesitated to help him, your hands hovering close like he was delicate animal. He straightened up and brushed his hair back.

“I have to recruit, Percy. Last chance, babe—” Babe. It sounded so wrong coming from his lips now, especially now.

His once charming smile replaced with one filled with hidden insanity, pseudo. It was like he was cracking. Cracking under pressure. Cracking under time. Cracking under stress, sympathy, anger, revenge—all of it.

You don’t know how he got here, how Kronos fucked with his head so bad that he was breaking. It hurt you, hurt you more than you thought you would. A part of you wanted to keep refusing, get Luke the help he needed.

The other part; to join him. Join him, but not to join the cause. Join him and help him soothe him, him and battles with his own head. To make sure he was okay and completely sane for choosing this.

Yet an answer refused to leave your mouth. You were speechless. Tears rolling down your cheeks at the situation. The entirety of true situation felt overwhelming. Either way you couldn’t lose Luke.

This was love, right?

To feel be so conflicted with your emotions and decisions, but wanting your partner to be safe and okay from whatever being had his mind captive.

To wanting to get revenge on the Greek gods and goddesses, but you couldn’t allow your partner to get caught in the crossfire.

In both of your own ways, Luke and you still cared and loved each other dearly and it would never stop.

Luke sighed. “Don’t cry, baby.” He wiped your tears and pressed a kiss to your forehead (one that really felt like it was him).

Your body felt weak, vision fading in and out. You didn’t notice, but you felt a pressure on your carotid arteries. “Luke—”. You blacked out and he caught you in his arms.

“Just sleep. We’ll be there soon, with or without Percy.”

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

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formulaa-1 · 3 months

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Could you please do a luke x reader where reader is the older half sister of percy and luke asks her out and reader agrees then when he went to her cabin to pick her up for their date percy opens the door and just interrogates him and tries to threaten him that if he hurts his sister he'll drown him and all honestly just percy being a protective younger brother. Then at the end of their Date luke takes her back to her cabin and reader days she had a good time and kisses his cheek before entering the cabin and luke just watches her with a big smile on his face then he suddenly sees percy glaring at him at the window which shocks him a bit and all HAHAHAHHA I just thought it would be cute and all you don't have to do it if you're not really comfortable with it!!!

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭? 𝐈 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝*𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟.” ⚕

a/n- i live for sassy younger sibling percy. i’m sorry but this reminds me so much of this vine that i had to title it that. hope you enjoy anon! 𑁍

“maybe you should, oh i don’t know, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 go on a date with this guy?”

“percy, just call him luke! you know who he is!”

your younger brother huffed out a sigh and began pacing the room. as much as he liked luke, he did 𝘯𝘰𝘵 enjoy the fact he was going on a date with his sister. even if they were just half-siblings she treated him like she’d known him since birth, always doting on him and protecting him. then all of a sudden he began acting like this, fending off anybody that dare to even look at her in a funny way, which brings people to think he’s a little shit. he totally is, but that’s a story for another time.

𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬

“pers, will you go get the door please?”

the boy came to an abrupt stop, turned to you, raised an eyebrow like 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺? 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬?, and went back to his pacing. not having any of it, you calmly turned to him with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“perseus jackson if you don’t open that door for me, i will declare all my bathroom cleaning days yours.”

now that got him to move, and as quick as a lightning bolt he rushed to the door. upon opening it, what he saw was something from his nightmares. he never thought something like 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 would become real.

“hey percy, is [name] almost ready?”

luke castellan, that son of a bitch. percy sneered at the older boy, getting up close and personal to his face. he addressed the son of hermes in a condescending manner.

“oh heyyyyy luke, she’s almost done. how about we step outside for a bit, eh?”

the bouquet of daises in luke’s hands were freshly picked, percy could tell, but that did not stop him from saying what he said next.

“now listen to me nice and clear, mr. sister stealer. if anything ever, i mean EVER happens to her under your watch, i will drag you to the oceans depths and watch you drown. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭? 𝐢 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝*𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟.”

“woah percy, it’s not like tha-“

lucky for luke, you opened the door just as percy was about to threaten him with something else. you looked beautiful, even if you were just in your camp t-shirt and a little make up. the son of hermes was sure he was in the presence of a goddess. turning to your younger brother, you gave him a little scolding with luke awkwardly standing in the background.

“sorry about him luke, you ready? oh, are those flowers? you shouldn’t have!”

“anything for you, princess. did i mention you look beautiful tonight?”

the night was amazing, luke was truly a gentleman. a picnic with the beautiful beaches and skies of long island sound surrounded the two of you, it was perfect. on your way there, there were a few times you almost fell but he was always ready to catch you. he had even taken the liberty of making sure you got back to your cabin safe and sound, holding your hand the entire walk.

before you entered through the aquamarine doors, you turned back to face luke. you could’ve sworn you saw hearts in his eyes. a sweet smile crept up on your face, you took a step closer and reached up to hold his face. your lips touched his for a quick second, not giving him enough time to reciprocate your affections.

“thank you for such an amazing time, luke. i think you earned a kiss.”

after that you pulled away and went into your cabin, leaving the poor boy flustered and in shock. why did you have to be so charming? through his crisis however, he saw something in the corner of his eye.

in the window, there stood percy jackson, glaring at him. the stare was almost as terrifying as a gods, if not as terrifying. the son of poseidon mouthed the words, 𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥*𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩, and turned away to welcome his sister back home. the poor older boy was shocked, slightly freaked out, but elated he got a kiss from you. maybe he should be the one to give you a quick kiss next time…

@𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐦 𑁍

2K notes · View notes

formulaa-1 · 3 months

Text

i won't say (im in love)

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Aphrodite!reader, wc: 5.1k

no warnings, just some kissing and miscommunication. this is my first fic ever :)

You didn’t believe in love at first sight.

It was so cliche, always the same story whenever you asked a couple how they met. In fact, you thought that anyone who said they fell in love at the first sight of their significant other was lying through their teeth. You were pretty sure most of the couples at camp were forcing it, there was no way everyone had a crush on someone else from another cabin except you.

It was no secret that you were a hater, as some of your half siblings would say, always making a comment about every couple that passed your way. It seemed ironic - the daughter of Aphrodite detesting love. But it wasn’t like you had many choices to begin with. The dating pool within Camp Half Blood was lacking, to say the least.

There was Chris Rodriguiz, always hanging around his half-siblings in the Hermes cabin or strolling beside Clarisse. He was a decent fighter, strong willed and determined, and his smile never seemed coy like his half-siblings. But with the daughter of Ares always around, you doubted Clarisse would appreciate your sudden interest in her buddy, especially after the Ghost King incident.

Then there was Charles Beckendorf, a son of Hephestus who was sweeter than he seemed. He was nice to talk to, more of an attentive listener than talker, though you didn’t mind his silent company. Although you found Charles nice to look at, there was nothing else that interested you in him. He seemed more interested in his machinery and staying within the forgery, especially since you’ve caught him eyeing your half sister Silena a couple of times during dinner.

And finally, there’s Luke Castellan, head of the Hermes cabin and your number one hater. You’re not sure when he first started to hate you, though you could only count the number of decent interactions you shared on one hand. He used to be close with you, always guiding you through the countless camp activities and even teaching you his sword fighting tricks.

He was your first friend at Camp Half Blood, the first one to greet you with a welcoming smile and treat you like you’re normal. Luke didn’t mind that you were unclaimed and shared a cabin with his half siblings, always reminding you that his father Hermes protected the travelers and roads.

Luke never seemed to realize the effect he had on you. You weren’t sure what it was, if you were clinging onto the first person that showed you basic human decency or if you really were warming up to him.

You remembered how quickly things changed between you two, how you became friends to strangers within an instant. It always haunts your mind, the same situation happening over and over again in your dreams and nightmares as if the gods wanted to punish you with the failure of your only friendship.

Luke was fixing your armor during your sword lessons, his hands expertly tucking in the straps and buckles that you had awkwardly put on. It was the same routine - he’d fix your armor and playfully tug at your chest armor, asking if it felt comfortable. You’d tug at Luke’s armor in return with a teasing smile and nod, both of you

You remember glancing up at him, noting how gently he was with you as he guided your hands along the hilt of your sword. His hands were rough and calloused, most likely from the years of training he had at camp. But when his fingers gently traced along yours, fixing your grip and adjusting your position, you could’ve sworn he was being softer on purpose.

You knew of his reputation at camp, word spread about the best swordsman at camp as soon as you arrived. And you’ve seen how Luke trained with the more advanced campers, directing orders sternly as if he were commanding an army of men rather than abandoned half-bloods. But with you, Luke was always kind and gentle, never raising his voice or handling you with roughness like his with the other demigods.

It felt nice, normal almost, to have someone to help you when you first arrived at camp. Still unclaimed and unsure, you were able to find solace and comfort in Luke’s presence. He was smart and kind, so willing to help the new campers find their way amongst Camp Half Blood’s many opportunities for glory.

Luke always spoke to you in a soft voice, kind and patient, as he instructed you. Raise your arms, grip the hilt tighter, and slash the dummy. When you followed his lead, Luke gave you a small smile of approval and helped you get back into position. The summer sun burned brighter and you could’ve sworn you felt yourself grow hotter as well.

And then it happened.

A thick, red haze enveloped all around you, fogging your vision as the sound of a woman’s sweet laughter filled your head. The smell of roses surrounded you, so strong and intense, and yet you couldn’t do anything but wave away the thick haze that blocked your surroundings.

You felt different within the haze, your regular training armor felt silky and lighter and your hair no longer felt damp with sweat. It was as if you were changed into a different body completely, no longer awkward but confident and sure.

“What’s happening?” you asked, coughing as the haze began to fade. A crowd of campers had entered the sword fighting area at some point, watching you as if you were the designated entertainment for the night. Maybe you were, if the gods felt vicious enough to make you pay for your right to earn a heritage.

Luke’s eyes never left your face, his mouth parted slightly in shock as he just looked at you. A shocked gasp from the crowd of campers had you glancing over at them in confusion. And then you saw it - your reflection in one of the camper’s sunglasses.

A pink hue surrounded your body, following your every movement. Your hair was braided with gold strands woven between your strands of hair. Your armor was replaced with a white sleeveless gown that stopped at your ankles, showing off golden sandals that wrapped along your ankles and up your shins like delicate vines. Your makeup was done flawlessly, not a single smudge on your new winged eyeliner or glossy lips despite the training you had done just moments ago.

“You’ve been claimed,” Luke said, his voice still soft and filled with disbelief. You flushed under Luke’s intense stare and you glanced away, meeting the stares of the other campers around you. “By Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, the laughter loving goddess.”

Ever since that day, Luke had avoided you as if you had the plague. He avoided you during your shared archery and pegasus riding lessons, hardly sparing you a glance when you struggled with your gear over and over again. During dinner, he sits with his back turned towards you, never moving from his seat until you finally leave. Even during the nightly campfire visits feel awkward when the son of Hermes is looking everywhere but your direction while the children of Apollo are leading the singalong.

Even after your blessing had worn off and your makeup eventually smudged again and you stopped smelling like fresh roses, Luke still made the effort to avoid you entirely. You tried approaching him during sword fighting lessons and walking by the Hermes cabin when you were ready for the day to no avail. It was as if he were never there anymore, disappearing when you entered a room and reappearing right when you left.

It took every bit of courage you had within yourself to go to your half siblings one night, bitterly ranting about Luke’s sudden change in demeanor. In true fashion, all of your siblings gathered around your bunk bed, the love experts of Cabin 10 listening intently to your ramblings even as curfew was set into place and Silena was supposed to call for lights out a while ago.

“He’s definitely avoiding you,” Silena commented with confidence after hearing your complaints. You let out an annoyed huff as you picked out a nail polish from one of the hanging racks along the walls, distracting yourself with the bottle as your half-siblings murmured in agreement. “Guys do that when they don’t know what to do with themselves,”

“But I didn’t do anything to him!” you huffed, shaking the nail polish a few times before opening the bottle. Silena stayed silent as you started on your left hand, carefully painting your nails a sparkling pink color. You stared at the sparkles now adorning your nails, shining brightly against the pink of your freshly painted nails, and thought of how your mother’s blessing ruined everything.

A comfortable silence fell amongst your siblings, all of them watching you with intensity. It was as if they were waiting for you to say something else, to add more to your story. You glanced up from your nails and raised an eyebrow at your siblings, waiting for more input about your lack of action.

“Maybe it's not you, maybe he’s just intimidated because of the blessing.” one of your sisters offered, her voice full of hope as if she were also trying to convince herself. You hummed in agreement, blowing at the nail polish as you stayed lost in thought.

There had to be a better reason, it didn’t seem like Luke to just stop talking to you because of a pink glow that followed you for a couple of days. He was smart, attentive, he had to have seen one of your other siblings get claimed in a similar way. It didn’t make sense that he would only avoid you.

What if he hated the way you looked after you received your blessing, what if the perfectly done makeup was too much? Doubt began to cloud your mind as small insecure thoughts filled your mind again. For the first time in weeks, you felt small and insignificant again, as if you were still the same unclaimed demigod that just entered camp.

“At the end of the day, he’s just a guy,” one of your brothers, Mitchell, added with a roll of his eyes. Your shared siblings hummed in agreement and began to conspire amongst themselves, sharing theories and stories about Luke’s sudden change. He always kept more to himself, hardly opening up to anyone but Annabeth Chase of the Athena cabin it seemed.

You let out a sigh of defeat and laid on your bed, staring at the pink ceiling above you. There wasn’t much for you to do, not when you had so many questions and hardly any answers. You hated this feeling, this uneasy feeling in your stomach like you did something bad.

“So what am I supposed to do? Just be ignored by my only friend at camp?” you asked, almost annoyed. Your nail polish had dried on your left hand and you began to paint your other hand. Even distracted with anxious thoughts, your hand never shook as you expertly coated your nails with the nail polish - one of the many talents you had as a child of Aphrodite.

“You can pray to Mother,” one of your siblings suggested, glancing up at you through a skin care mask. You made a face but didn’t say anything else, not when your Mother could hear within your own cabin. It was your only hope, your only way to figure out why Luke was avoiding you all of a sudden and how you could fix this.

That night you put your favorite pair of shoes on your mother’s altar, an expensive pair of heels you had gotten for your birthday a couple years ago. You weren’t sure how to feel about asking for help when you had gone out of your way to detest the very thing your mother represented, though you were half hopeful that she’d at least hear your pleas for help. You never prayed to Aphrodite before, never really knew how to speak to the goddess that called herself your mother.

Sleep didn’t come easy to you. You tossed and turned all night, huffing in annoyance when you just couldn’t get comfortable in your own bed. You tried sleeping at an angle and on your side and on your back, but nothing seemed to lead to you exhaustion. It wasn’t until you finally looked out the window, gazing out at the Hermes cabin with a wistful sigh, that you felt your eyes grow heavy and heavy until you finally gave in to the lulling comfort of slumber.

The sound of soft waves crashing upon the shore filled your ears, the familiar scent of roses prominent once again. When you opened your eyes, you knew you were dreaming. You weren’t in your cabin anymore, now standing in ankle deep waves that never seemed to truly reach the beach.

You knew where you were, yet you didn't. Something within you longed to stay at this beach, to stay home. But this wasn’t your home, no. It was your mother’s, you were sure. Somehow you were in Cyprus.

Before you could open your mouth and call out for your mother, sea foam began to crash faster and faster upon the waves. The foam gathered along the sand and rocks, growing larger and larger until the foam blanketed along your feet and legs. From the horizon, you could see the same pink aura that had surrounded you when you first got claimed - Aphrodite’s blessing.

Rising from the sea foam, your mother appeared before you, radiating nothing but pure loveliness and beauty. You glanced up at her in awe, you could see why gods and mortals alike fawned after the goddess for centuries.

Her appearance was infinite, constantly changing when every blink you took. One second she had honey brown eyes, another she had sea green eyes, then she had sky blue. Her hair flowed perfectly with an invisible breeze behind her. Curly blonde hair turned to straight black hair turned to coily hair, but you recognized her all the same.

Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, your mother.

Your mother glanced down at you at last, a gentle smile on her red painted lips. Gods, she was so intimidatingly perfect, you weren’t sure if you were supposed to bow or kneel in her presence. “Child, you have rejected your heritage for so long,” she said, her voice soft and lovely. But you could hear the slight annoyance in her tone, as if she were waiting for you to finally come to your senses.

You bowed your head and fiddled with your hands, playing with the golden rings that adorned your fingers. Your appearance had changed too, now dressed in the very outfit your mother had given you when she claimed you. “I know, I’m sorry….mom…” you said softly, almost embarrassed. You really didn’t want your first interaction with your mother to be a lecture.

Aphrodite said nothing, still staring down at you with her ever changing eyes. Centuries worth of knowledge swirled within her irises, knowledge of ancient lovers and broken hearts beckoning you closer. You wondered what appearance she took when she met your father, if she even took a mortal appearance. “Your heart is not happy,” she said at last, confident and all knowing.

“How do you know?” you asked, almost defensively. You were plenty happy. You enjoyed strawberry picking with the children of Demeter, you enjoyed teaching the younger campers how to make friendship bracelets before dinner, you enjoyed the karaoke competitions with the children of Apollo when it was one of their birthdays.

You were plenty happy at camp, you told yourself, you just needed help. Platonic help with a friend.

Your mother tilted her head at you slightly, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. She looked like one of those rich moms that stayed at home, silently judging your question like the answer was obvious.“Your heart is not happy,” she repeated in the same tone, as if it were enough to answer your question.

“I didn’t come to ask about my love life, I just need some advice.” You said, your cheeks heating up at her statement. Maybe your mother was confused, maybe you should’ve prayed to one of her children instead. Romance and friendship were often confused, you told yourself, maybe she thought you wanted relationship advice. “My….friend, Luke, won’t talk to me anymore. Ever since I got claimed it’s like he wants nothing to do with me.”

Aphrodite stayed quiet for a moment, her body still changing and glowing as she stayed lost in thought. You didn’t know where to look, at her perfect face or perfect body, still adorned in a similar gown to yours. She radiated pure confidence, casually posed as the sea foam still gathered around your feet.

“Have you heard of Pygmalion and Galatea?” she asked, looking out into the distance of the sea. A distant look clouded her face, as if she were remembering how long ago she met the couple. You didn’t bother wondering how long ago those people lived.

You racked your brain for those familiar names, you knew them from somewhere. Lovers, they had to be lovers. But from where, you didn’t remember. Memories of ancient myths filled your mind. Eros and Psyche, Orpheus and Eurydice, Pyramus and Thisbe, but no recollection of a Pygmalion and Galatea.

The image of a statue of a woman so perfectly made that she was almost human came to your mind. Beside the statue was a man, tenderly tracing along her arms, her waist, her neck, as if she were his lover. “He fell in love with his statue, right?” you asked suddenly, the myth coming to mind. You had remembered now, a man painfully in love with something that couldn’t love him back, a tragic tale.

“After detesting marriage for so long, yes.” Aphrodite answered fondly, as if she were amused by the story. Perhaps she was, you knew of her resentment for those who openly despised love itself. “But his heart was not happy alone, and he wanted the perfect woman to be beside him - his own creation.”

You stayed silent for a while, unsure of how to respond. What did this have to do with Luke? Was he the sculptor and you the statue? That didn’t seem motivating, though you doubted your mother knew what it felt to be on the other side of unrequited feelings. “You turned his statue into a real woman after he prayed to you, when he finally fell in love though.”

Aphrodite turned to you, a small smirk on her lips. She looked at you as if waiting for you to say something, to realize the point of this story. You blinked up at her, confusion still evident on your face. Maybe there was something wrong with you, maybe she accidentally claimed the wrong child. There was no way she was implying that this story reassembled your own problems.

“What does any of this have to do with me?” You asked finally. This was a mistake, you shouldn’t have listened to your half-siblings. Of course they would suggest you talk to your mother, they all were in relationships. They probably got a better blessing, getting a gift of successful love lifes while all you got were steady hands when you did your nails and makeup.

“A hardened heart does not open for opportunity,” she said, flashing eyes turning to yours. Her eyes were gray now, resembling some of the children of Athena with that knowing look in her eyes. Was she trying to tell you that Luke’s heart was rejecting you?

As if she could read your mind, Aphrodite shook her head. She gave you a pointed look, now dark brown eyes staring directly at you. Your heart skipped a beat at the intense gaze of your mother, it was exactly how Luke looked at you when your first got claimed. Gods, were you really getting flustered over a single glance?

“Not Luke’s heart,” she said, her voice fading as the waves stopped moving. The sea foam slowly melted into the waves, taking your mother with them. She gave you a sympathetic look, as if she didn’t want to leave so soon. But she was a busy goddess, you understood, love waits for no one. “Your brother has done his part, it is up to you to do yours.”

You woke up with a start, your shirt sticking to your back as you sat up from your bed. Below you, one of your siblings groaned in their sleep before their soft breathing resumed. Soft, classical music played from someone’s side of the cabin, though you didn’t mind this particular song.

Your brother has done his part, what was that supposed to mean? You sighed as you wiped your brow, sweat sliding along your forehead. Gods above, how long were you sweating in your sleep?

Carefully, you got off of your bunk bed, your feet softly padding along the cabin floor as you grabbed your slippers from the shoe rack. No one stirred from their slumber, and you silently celebrated as you double checked you were the only one awake in the cabin. The moon was still overhead, the moonlight pouring into the pink stained glass of your cabin and dancing along the countless crystal chandeliers.

A walk wouldn’t hurt, you told yourself as you quietly tiptoed out of your cabin. You just needed to clear your head, dreams were often filled with messages that were difficult to understand.

You kept to the trails that were long walked upon before you first arrived to camp. The moonlight illuminated the camp, no need for any lanterns or fire as you made your way past the other cabins. Neatly made paths guided you from the common area to the sword fighting arena, an old habit. You hadn't realized you were standing at the entrance until soft footsteps followed behind you then stopped.

With a quick glance, you turned to face whoever was behind you, ready to make up an excuse for your late night stroll. You weren’t even properly dressed, still in your pajamas and fluffy slippers. Instead of facing Mr. D or even Chiron, you met a familiar face. Curly brown hair, now unruly and tussled, and soft brown eyes met yours.

You didn’t believe in love at first sight.

Until you met Luke Castellan.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and raspy. You nodded, suddenly shy. Maybe if you didn’t speak, Luke wouldn’t recognize your voice and avoid you again. He ran a hand through his curls, letting out a soft yawn as he rubbed at his face and slowly woke up.

You stood still, unwilling to ruin this moment. You didn’t even know what to say to him, how nice of you to talk to me again sounded snarky and why haven’t you approached me sounded clingy. Gods, what did your mother tell you again? Something about you needing to do your part? You didn’t even know what brother she was talking about either, though you were sure Mitchell didn’t have any part of her plan.

“I just needed some air,” you said softly, daring a glance up at him. He was a couple feet away from you, the moon shining upon him as if Artimes herself gave him a spotlight. His beaded necklace was half tucked into his shirt, almost as if he were in a hurry to get changed, though you paid it no mind. You weren’t the best dressed at the moment either.

It was quiet again, neither of you saying a word. Somewhere in the distance, a hellhound howled. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you glanced away from Luke. If he didn’t want to say anything else, you wouldn’t either.

A hardened heart does not open for opportunity, your mother’s voice echoes in your mind, reminding you with a mockingly sweet voice. You scowled at the reminder and made a mental note to grab your shoes from her altar when you returned to your cabin.

“How have you been?” you asked, looking back at Luke. You let out a small breath, your heart pounding wildly as he looked back at you. Did he always look at you like that? As if you had given him the moon and stars and everything in between? “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Luke flushed at your question, rubbing a hand behind his neck. For once, Luke looked unsure. Gone was the confident camper that always had an answer for everything, ready to comfort the newbies and unclaimed demigods alike. “I’ve been alright. Nothing interesting has happened, you know.”

You nodded in understanding. The days leading up to Spring were often dull, with most activities halting to a stop until the Sun could shine again and give comfort to the campers of the earth gods and goddesses. Even some of the Apollo kids were complaining of the lack of warmth in the camp lately, though Mr. D chalked it up to them being dramatic as usual.

“I heard you were training that Jackson kid,” you said softly, raising an eyebrow at Luke. He smiled at the mention of the newest camper, a blond haired kid barely the age of 12 that had apparently killed the minotaur right before he arrived. “I heard he gave Clarisse a nasty drench in the bathroom.”

Luke huffed out a laugh, covering his hand as the sound echoed around the arena. You smiled at the sound, you forgot how nice the feeling was to make him laugh like this. “How did you know about that?” he asked when his laughter had subsided.

You gave him a small shrug, though a playful smile tugged at your lips. It felt so easy to fall back into normalcy with Luke, as if there were never any problems between you at all. “Gossip spreads. People talk when they're getting facials, you know.” you said with a smile.

Another laugh came from Luke and you prided yourself in making him laugh twice in a row. You were sure you’d be caught by now, the noise echoing around the arena. The ears of the monsters on patrol were always precise, though you hadn’t heard the hellhound from earlier since you arrived at the arena.

“Can I ask you something?” Luke took a small step toward you. You nodded, taking in a small breath as he slowly stepped closer and closer to you. He stopped right in front of you, where you could faintly make out the scar along his cheek. It took all of your effort to not reach out and trace it, just to hold his cheek in your own hands. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You nodded again, “I do, actually.” Tilting your head up to get a better view of Luke, you noted all the small details of his face. His dimples never left as he smiled at you, light freckles dusted his cheeks from grueling days in the sun. A soft pink blush spread along his face, and his eyes looked at you and only you. “Do you?”

“I do.”

A comfortable silence fell between you again, and you took in a shuddering breath. He was close, so close to your face, almost inches away from sharing the same breath as you. “Can I ask you a question?” you asked, glancing up at him through your lashes. “Do you feel like-”

“You’ve been shot by Eros’s arrow?” Luke gave you a small smile, leaning in ever so slightly until his lips met yours. He tasted like sweet ambrosia, addicting and inviting, and you leaned closer to get another taste before he could pull away. You wanted more, more, more until there was nothing left for Luke to give you, and he seemed willing to give you everything you wanted.

A small huff left your lips when Luke eventually pulled away, panting slightly and blushing profusely. “Took you long enough,” you said softly, your own cheeks burning. You couldn’t believe your own mother, much less your godly half sibling. You made a mental note to offer some of your favorite chocolates to them both as a thanks for helping you out.

Luke let out a chuckle, brushing some hair away from your face with a fond smile. He looked good like this, happy and relaxed without the weight of his burdens filling his mind. You wished you could make him happy like this forever.

“Sorry for avoiding you,” he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers gently traced along your cheeks, your jaw, your lips. He gently wiped his thumb along the corner of your mouth, and your heart fluttered at the slight touch. “I thought…you wouldn’t want to be seen with me after getting claimed.” “Why wouldn’t I want to be seen with you?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion. You grabbed his hand, gently interlacing your fingers with his and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He returned the gesture, squeezing your hand back as he stared at your hands.

“I didn’t think you wanted to have me when you looked so…” Luke blushed slightly, and you covered your mouth to hide your smile. Perhaps your siblings were right, perhaps he truly was intimidated by your mother’s blessing. “You just looked so beautiful, and I didn’t know if you wanted someone better, someone fit for a daughter of Aphrodite.”

“Luke,” you said softly, giggling slightly at his reluctance to meet your gaze. You gently cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb tracing the scar along his face. Luke leaned into your touch slightly, and you gently kissed his scarred cheek once, twice, three times. “Shut up.”

Luke smiled at your response, moving his face to meet your lips instead. His hands found their place at your hips, pulling you closer to him. Beneath the milky twilight of the moon’s shine, you wrapped your arms around Luke's neck, tiptoeing to reach his height as your lips molded against his once more.

You didn’t care about getting caught, you didn’t care about the footsteps that seemed to lead towards the arena when Luke chased your lips like he needed salvation. You’d worry about your punishment tomorrow, whether it was an extra month of kitchen duty or losing desert privileges, you didn't care. Not when Luke was holding you so tenderly, kissing you like it was the only thing he was made for on this Earth.

You used to say you didn’t believe in love at first sight, but that was before you met Luke Castellan.

2K notes · View notes

formulaa-1 · 3 months

Text

anything you want

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.6k

summary: (pre-established relationship) It’s just Luke. He’ll do anything you tell him to, even if you talk too much. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: trouble is a yapper yall should know that by now. happy first kiss to you and luke!

(posted 1/25/24 unbetad)

—

“Come on, Castellan, we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry!”

Your foot taps steadily on the forest floor, waiting for Luke to finish his demonstration of how to slay a chimera, and at the sound of your voice, he sheathes his sword and claps Chris on the back to finish up the workshop.

“Where you off to, man?”

“Gotta help our favorite head counselor set up for Greek Legends & Theatrics,” he says matter-of-factly, setting his battle armor to the side and making the walk up the steep hill towards the amphitheater to meet you like he’s following a siren call.

“Simp,” Chris mutters before his best friend slaps him across the head and jogs away.

“My hands are full, Rodriguez!”

“You wish!” Chris calls out as he picks up his sword, watching the slight blush rise on Luke’s pale cheeks as he almost trips over his own feet.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Watch your fucking language,” you say sternly, which makes the both of you laugh when he finally meets you at the top of the hill. Instantly, you’re relinquishing everything in your hands: your water jug, the bag of costumes, a binder of scripts, and a ukelele. Luke’s juggling everything as best he can with no complaints, following your footsteps as he bumps the body of the uke against his hip to get a better grasp as he marvels at your excitement for your little drama club.

“What’re you teaching today, trouble?”

“Orpheus and Eurydice, and it’s gonna be great! One of my personal favorites! The kids should be ready for the performance at the end of the month,” you grin, walking backward as you descend the stone steps of the amphitheater.

You’ve both grown into your roles here at camp, finding places you shine and excel at and together you bridge what the kids, your kids, are lacking. But he can see how you let yourself thrive here, being the operative heart of Camp Half Blood, and you’re radiating as you beckon him to follow you.

Following you around has become a habit as of late, one that he’s only recently made himself aware of. Sure, he’s always loved annoying you and doing something stupid to get a reaction, whether it be a snide remark or a smile, but something in your dynamic has changed. You’re head counselor after all, and even though he’s only in charge of busy cabin 11, his hand is always extended to whatever you have to offer. Quite simply, he loves it when you look for him, there’s no other explanation for it.

You’ve always troubled him, his thoughts, his life— but Luke can’t define it, or deem it something he can live without. It doesn’t make sense, and now he often finds himself wondering what it would be like to be more than whatever you are; not enemies, not necessarily friends, but perhaps a secret third thing, something he admittedly holds sacred.

Luke trusts you with his life, but wouldn’t choose you to be his quest companion again he thinks, not after the scar only you deem pretty is an evident sign of his personal transgression. He stares at you for a second too long while you ramble, organizing your thoughts out loud that he doesn’t notice any of the actual words falling from your lips because he’s entranced by them. Slight worry crosses his sharp features as he realizes he could kill someone if you got hurt.

Fuck.

There’s a space he’s carved out for you in his heart that he doesn’t know what to name yet and now you’re looking for him again, turning to him when you realize he hasn’t followed.

When did you get so close to him?

“Luke!” you exclaim, nibbling on your bottom lip as you snap your fingers in his face.

“Are you even listening to me? I need an extra hand setting up smores stuff for the bonfire later if you’re free, and then we have night shift after…” You’re leaning against the table with a delicate smile on your face and in moments like these where you rattle off your routine that he gladly picks apart— Luke feels a sort of elation better than any quest or glory he can achieve. Only you can make unpaid labor sound like Elysium.

He nods absentmindedly, eyes flickering to your lips as you continue to speak, and he can’t help but admire how the way the sun filters through your hair…

Maybe Chris was onto something…

“You okay? If you need a break you can sit and watch us, the kids should be coming soon to start.”

Your fingers graze his bicep, and he blinks at you, your eyes wide with curiosity and a fire that can’t be tamed. You drive him crazy. He probably looks like a lunatic, frozen in place as he stares at you, so he shakes his head lightly, albeit unconsciously as he furrows his eyebrows, scar crinkling with his eyes as he smiles at you. What a dork.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you laugh, your head falling onto your shoulder as you look at him sideways. You’ve noticed Luke is softer with you nowadays, hands always full when you keep him busy, and unlike the other cabin counselors, seldom does he fight you about camp duties. He’ll fight you about anything else though, just to get the last swipe at your attention, to make sure your eyes are on him.

And they always are, whether you can help it or not.

Luke steps forward, duffel bag still in hand and ukelele at his other side and suddenly he looks like he’s on a mission, his signature smirk stealing the air from your lungs as you forget what you’re saying.

“Like what, trouble?”

Nervous laughter bubbles from you at the increasing proximity. It’s the first time he’s spoken since you got down here. His cargos brush against the smooth skin of your legs as you nestle your hips against the table, and the smell of sweat, musk, and citrus infiltrates your nostrils with a shaky breath.

“Like you’re about to make a mess of something. I can’t really tell,” you whisper. Why are you whispering? There’s no one here but you two and the sound of birds in the spring air.

It’s just Luke. Luke Castellan, who you glitter bombed when you were 14, who shoves you around every chance he gets, and steals food off your plate at every meal.

“I might. Not sure yet,” he swallows as he looms over you, the bag in his grasp falling to the side and the ukelele making a dissonant noise as he sets it on the table.

When did you let him past your defenses? The wall around your heart was well protected after years of whims of what you thought was love felt like running headfirst into concrete.

But Luke’s always been there, watching.

Though as a son of Hermes, sneaking in without a sound is what he does best. Perhaps a little too well, the both of you not noticing it for what it was until this moment.

“What are we doing?” you ask, and his reply is to pull you in by the belt loop of your denim shorts, snatching you closer with a curl of his fingers.

“You talk too much, you know that?”

Then suddenly, finally—his lips descend onto yours stealing your breath away like it's second nature, almost thoughtless and without anymore questions. There's a moment where you both sigh as if it was a relief to finally be touched like this, no hidden meanings, no ulterior motives, and nothing else makes sense but to be here kissing him.

Luke’s calloused hand weaves under your jaw and into your hair, propping you up as your knees buckle slightly, so intense and gentle at the same time, lips forging the undeniable connection between you that’s gone unspoken for so long. His hands are full of you, and he tastes like the strawberries you snuck onto his plate at lunch.

Your hands slide up the front of his shirt, a featherlike touch to confirm that he’s there though the feel of his tongue slipping in makes you wonder how much time you’ve wasted arguing with him when you could’ve been doing this.

Everything about this kiss feels familiar in a way you can’t describe, but this embrace lets you learn about him what you thought you were already so sure of. It makes you wonder if you’ve been here before in a different life, and then you remember who’s in front of you.

It’s Luke, who likes it when he gets to fall asleep to the sound of your voice telling a bedtime story, follows you around even if his siblings tease him, and never ridicules you for your innate madness.

Perhaps he’s just as mad as you.

Your eyes flutter open, and he’s already walking away, nervously chuckling like he didn’t give you a life-altering kiss. When your heart finally feels like it’s in your chest again, you grumble loudly, shaking your head with his name still caught between your teeth—

“LUKE CASTELLAN! Don't you dare run away from me!”

He's quite sure he hasn't sprinted away faster in his life. But as he runs up the steps of the ampitheater to try and clear his head, he stumbles when he looks at you, turning around every few paces until he finally catches the unmistakeable smile on your face. Luke eats shit at the top, falling against a tree and he hears the sound of your laughter.

He thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life running away if it means he can look back and see if you’ll follow.

—

“I don’t know how it is you are so familiar to me—or why it feels like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before—in another time, a different place—some other existence.”

-Lang Leav

ask to be put on general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl l @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @bo0k-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen

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