Hey! Can I request luke castellan x reader dating headcanons where reader is the daughter of hades and is like, pretty shy unless you know her well?
i am writing this RIGHT NOW give me 2 hours
all the young. Dudes
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.
girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls
masterlist ig
spiderman
peter parker:
-“treacherous”
marauders
regulus:
-“cardigan”
-“august”
the owl house
-music taste headcanons
i’m LIVING for these
— FLIRTING !
aノn — another one !! we're finally seeing luke openly fall for reader !! :) + her warming up to him (w/o realizing ofc) , the next chapter will b exciting :3
— series masterlist || reqs for this universe r open btw <3
taglist — @lostinhisworld @frogtowne @daughterofthemoons-stuff @uniquely-her @th0tblckgrl @jules-darling @theadventuresofanartist @mxqdii @pleasingregulus @volko666 @perseus-jackass @whatislifebutlemons @morganalatina21 @annybah
i don’t give a damn ‘bout my reputation // living in the past, it’s a new generation
my fav headcanon is that marls wasn’t popular at all: ppl hated her bc she dressed ‘weird’, she was an open lesbian and a sport fanatic, loud and mean. outcast marlene best marlene.
(song is bad reputation by joan jett, aka marls’ anthem by marls’ no 1 artist)
imagine daddy kronos’s deep n burly voice shaking the bed for y’all 😖‼️
slash j obviously. tf
people i know in real life follow me on tumblr. is this reblog reflective of how i wish to be perceived?
is the status of my digital footprint even relevant anymore? i’ve been extremely active online for over 8 years atp. surely it’s tarnished beyond repair.
i am never going to get a job. i need to take a step back and stop posting every thought i have. what will my future employer think of “kronos, the worst titan ever, shaking the bed for the mormon version of his protégé and his gf.”
idc actually. reblogged.
imagine christian!southern!luke and asking u abt soaking
anon this is so fucking insane LMAOOO
plz he's all "i heard it doesn't even count ☹️ " and he begs. literally on his knees begging, looking up at you with the saddest eyes and you fear for a split second there that he's going to press his hands together and squeeze his eyes closed and start speaking to you like you're his god. he's so adamant about it not counting, so desperate to get the slightest feel of the inside of you. he even says someone doesn't have to be there to shake the bed! he can just sit there inside of you and he'll have the strength to not move one centimeter (he absolutely does not have the strength).
1969/1979
that one teacup scene from uptown girl that’s going viral on tik tok but make it black brothers angst
i was also thinking abt making a regulus version but idk-also drawing/writing angst while listening to girly pop music is a surreal experience i highly recommend