“who Said A Kiss Was A Promise? I Meant It As A Threat.”

“who said a kiss was a promise? i meant it as a threat.”

WHY AM I CRYING? why is my favourite mood disorder coded representation from a luke x reader series. trouble is literally me

said he likes crazy

Said He Likes Crazy
Said He Likes Crazy
Said He Likes Crazy

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

words: 2.1k

summary: (pre-established relationship) You’re having a bad day, and only Luke knows how to make you feel better. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS, BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY guys i didnt sleep for this pls tell me its ok

(posted 1/29/24, beta’d by the lovely ellie @lixzey )

He’s been avoiding you. 

To be specific, Luke’s been running away from you. Typical son of Hermes, and a typical teenage boy at that. But if anyone’s asked you what’s up (which, they all have, after almost 4 years of seeing you two not go a day without bickering), it’s just easier to say you’ve been busy.

Okay, so perhaps you’ve been avoiding him too.

Annabeth clocked you as soon as you turned tail after almost bumping into him after archery practice. Damn children of Athena; it’d be nice if they weren’t so perceptive sometimes.

“What did he do this time?” she pipes up, filling the silence of the Big House. It’s late now, and the cabin counselors’ meeting just ended.

“Seeing as you’re the one helping me with the paperwork tonight and not him, you can take a good guess, Annie,” you sigh.

Honestly though, who the fuck kisses someone senseless and then runs away? (Luke Castellan, that’s who.) You weren’t sure what to make of it. You’re a daughter of chaos, after all, not love. But if there’s anyone who can read your emotions better than yourself, it’s him. 

Annabeth stares at her idiot brother through the window as he wanders in the grass outside the Big House.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s just…being Luke,” you say, blinking slowly as you shuffle through the last of the files you need to put on your dad’s desk before you mutter, “I’m just having a bad day.”

A noise of concern makes its way up Annabeth’s throat. You haven’t had a bad day in a while, in all honesty, not one that makes you act like this, admittedly not one that makes you act like you— the daughter of Dionysus, god of insanity, and not the daughter of Mr. D, camp director.

It was just a bad day until it turned into a bad week, and the voices in your head were starting to get loud without Luke distracting you. Because that’s what he ultimately is, a distraction from your camp duties. 

There’s so much to do and so little time, however, that you hide away your microexpressions that seem to be clawing at you from the inside. The anger, the mania, the hurt. If you unleash it, only the gods can predict how much of camp would be affected by your ‘outbursts’, as your dad likes to call them. Not like you had a choice in the matter. Your days of wreaking havoc are behind you, now presenting yourself as the stellar star of the Camp Half-Blood show. It’s almost a one-woman production with you picking up after your father and trying to tame the traits he passed down.

Thanks for that, D. 

So you give and you give and you give—all your attention and time and effort into keeping camp upright, into being the perfect daughter, that at the end of the day, you’ve drained yourself of who you are with who you try to be.

You look at your tired reflection in the window, before your eyebrow raises at the sight of Luke blending in with the shadows of the tree he’s leaning against. Idiot.

“Annie, would you mind…”

“Yeah, I’ll do cabin checks myself. Might drag your brother to do them with me,” she smiles, patting your arm before grabbing her bag.

“If he complains, let me know. Pollux has heard me bitch enough today.” The small girl raises an eyebrow at that, biting her tongue from responding. You chewed out a lot of people today, acting extra uptight and demanding of the counselors to “just do the right thing.” It was almost insufferable, but despite you trying to hold it in, your emotions bled into their own. Everyone was agitated by the end of the meeting, filing out quickly with biting words and hot tempers. You couldn’t help but notice Luke led them all out of there, and they also somehow got the feeling that he was to blame. 

Smiling at Annabeth in thanks, you watch her walk out to Luke before punching him in the stomach as he grimaces, meeting your violet gaze through the window as he raises a hand. It’s hard to tell if it’s to signal a truce or his embarrassment, but he trudges the way up the path and the door creaks open.

“Heard you were having a bad day,” he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. You look at him from the corner of your eye as you continue to write down the weekly to-dos and organize papers for your dad to sign and send back to Zeus.

“Why are you here, Castellan?”

“So we’re back to that? I thought…” his voice trails off at the sound of his last name, not Luke, not angelface, or anything in between, and both of you are unsure how to proceed. Neither of you have done this before, at least not with each other. You tilt your head to the side, daring him to speak, and it reminds him of a week ago, you bathed in sunlight when he leaned in and kissed you. Though if he did that right now, he’s not sure how you’d react. 

“It’s just a bad day,” you whisper in defeat, lilac eyes wilting in front of him like an overwatered flower.

He realizes then that he cares for you more than he knows how to. And Luke knows what it means when you’re having a bad day.

There’s a deranged look in your eye, a subtle eye twitch and clench of your jaw that is almost insusceptible to the average demigod, but he knows you’re on edge, having taunted you mercilessly until you scream, cry, laugh, or all of the above. But most of all you look tired and in need of someone who knows how it feels to be underappreciated. 

“D’s a great dad to the twins. But I just feel like… maybe he wasn’t meant to be mine,” you whisper, rolling your tongue against the front of your teeth to push back the sob a 14-year-old version of you would let out deep in the dark of cabin 11, having been there for months and knowing Dionysus was your father and waiting for him to see you. To know you. 

“Giving me a hard time about all of this,” you say, hands gesturing to the things you have to prepare for him by morning. You’re overworked, underpaid, and definitely not appreciated— and Luke decides he hates your dad for what he puts you through, not just as a shitty camp director but as a shitty dad. He’s learned to live with the hurt—to use it to fuel his vengeance for how he plans to make the world better. But your ambition makes you change yourself constantly to try to be better. Both fatal flaws are fueled by the ignorance of your fathers. He knows the feeling all too well. He knows you.

“What do you need?” he asks simply, stepping closer to your form hunched over the desk.

“I can do it, you know. D’s wrong about me,” you whisper, and the words come out sounding so desperate for him to believe the performance you always put on that you avert your eyes.

He doesn’t need to be convinced; instead, he holds his arms out waiting for you to let you make the next move. Luke is neither a fool nor a knave— there are no tricks here, no hidden agenda as he watches you try to compose yourself with a deep breath instead of showing him the real you. The one who’s beneath the mask of being head counselor, your father’s saving grace, and the one who carries her responsibilities like Atlas carries the weight of the sky.

“I know you can. You always have. You really think I’m here to help you file paperwork?” He means it. 

“Will you let me?” Whether he meant sharing the workload or being there for you, you wouldn’t dare to ask. It’s all the same, anyway—laying yourself bare for someone to peek into your mind and have them not laugh at it.

Suddenly you speak, and the intensity of your tone makes him straighten his posture. 

“Sometimes… Do you ever feel the need to just…”

“What?” He reaches out to tug your hair, and in the dim light, he can see the bloom of your cheeks. You’re shy, and Luke thinks you look soft like this, wary of how he perceives you.

“I shouldn’t.” Fuck the gods. He can see the thought form in your eyes, the heat of your stare tearing through his, and his lips pull into a smirk.

“What was that, trouble?” 

“Luke, don’t be an asshole…” You say warily, biting the inside of your cheek. There’s no way you’re going down in the history books for cursing the gods because Luke Castellan of all people made you. 

“I thought you liked me like that,” he’s grinning now, and grabbing your chin lightly, mouthing the words to echo your thoughts. 

Fuck the gods.

“Fuck.” you whisper, before your voice fails you, your eyes closing both from his touch and the genuine fear of the heavens falling down from the sacrilege falling from your lips.

“Louder,” he whispers, pulling your face up close to his, “come on, you used to be more fun, trouble. I believe in you.”

“Fuck!” you say louder and he’s whispering in your ear, urging you to toe the line between perfect child and degenerate.

“Say it again.”

“FUCK! FUCK THE…” you yell before you sigh exasperatedly, eyes widening as you feel the breath release from your chest before your head lolls onto his shoulder. 

“Gods, you’re fucking insane, Castellan.”

He laughs lowly, and it sounds as sweet as sin. Your smiling lips make an imprint on his collarbone, and he wishes they would sear themselves on there for the rest of eternity.

“Hey, I get it from you. Feel better?”

To be seen is a fickle thing. But to be known is something more intimate, and nothing will be able to erase the connection you both share—fatal flaws and all. There are things you can’t change about people, what they are at their core, and so he takes what you hate about yourself with both hands and pulls you towards his chest until you settle against him with a sniffle. Luke tilts your chin up again, a rough thumb wiping away evidence of your watery smile. He thinks he sees a glimpse of a past you—a younger one that dyed his socks purple to make him feel like he belongs here. And he knows now that he does belong with you, right here as he holds you in the quiet of the Big House.

“Ugh, I’ll kiss you later, I still have to finish up here. You’re not off the hook, angelface.” You sigh, pushing away from him before he tugs you back, your feet stumbling as you roll your eyes at his impish expression.

“Let me make it up to you, trouble.”

“What, so you run away again?” you scoff, snickering at the sight of his ego being taken down a notch.

“I’ve just….I don’t know how to do all of this with you. Guess I’m worried it won’t meet your expectations, Miss Head Counselor.” A boyish sort of bashfulness crosses his features, and he’s twirling a piece of your hair in his hands like spinning silk.

“I just hope you never stop surprising me. That’s all I ask.”

Your hand touches his wrist lightly, and he sighs like you’ve already taken his breath away.

“I keep my promises. Do you?”

“Who said a kiss was a promise? I meant it as a threat,” you laugh before he’s pressing your hips into the table, nose nudging against yours and suddenly work is off the table for the rest of the night.

You on the table, however, well... that could be negotiated.

“I knew something was wrong with me when your so-called threats got less scary and more sexy,” Luke teases, running a finger on the side of your cheek. His breath tickles your lips, and you can imagine the rage your father would feel if he caught the two of you in his office like this. Besides the blatant defiance, you briefly wonder if your rebellion would get him to respect you more. An interesting thought.

“You’re absolutely terrible. I need to get this done… The gods don’t wait for us.”

A weak sigh leaves your mouth as your brain is already riddled with thoughts of him and he closes the gap between your lips.

“They can wait until morning. For now, you’re mine.”

“You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first — bullshit.

I have never loved myself.

But you —

Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like. (via swxrn-in)”

luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @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 @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targayenluv

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1 year ago

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

Dark!luke Smut Where Homeboy Is Yappin And Reader Figures Out He’s The Lightning Thief
1 year ago

guys i have the best outline for a luke x reader fic. give me two days and 60mg vyvanse and it’ll be done

1 year ago

proximity, part 1

luke castellan x reader smau

🎯

series masterlist | next

Proximity, Part 1
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10 months ago

oh you ate this up. pun intended

opinions on munch luke ? 😏

holy shit this boy can EAT 😫

mdni 18+

like full blown making out with your pussy type shit. he’s down on his knees while you sit on the edge of the bed, back arched and nails digging into anything for support; the sheets, the wood beams, his hair, etc. the vibrations from his moans on your clit only add on to the string of profanities you’re mindlessly spewing out.

he likes to make sure you’re full too, jamming in at least three fingers and swirling them around to hit all of the right spots. and if his fingers aren’t fucking into you, his tongue is.

every once in a while, he looks up to check on you and make sure you’re okay, but your eyes are too far in the back your head to even notice.

not to mention, bomb ass aftercare. once you’ve cum (normally more than once), he’s at your side cradling you and whispering sweet nothings into your neck about how you “did so good for him.” but most times, head is just the foreplay.

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES


Tags
1 year ago

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ oh he looks so cute, wrapped around my finger! ⋄ 𓍯

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ Oh He Looks So Cute, Wrapped Around My Finger! ⋄ 𓍯
୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ Oh He Looks So Cute, Wrapped Around My Finger! ⋄ 𓍯
୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ Oh He Looks So Cute, Wrapped Around My Finger! ⋄ 𓍯

….IN WHICH: i made a fic based of espresso by sabrina carpenter/luke is WHIPPED.

tags/warnings: toothrotting fluff, luke & reader is mentioned to have exes, ‘she was like a shot of espresso,’ kinda short, not proofread, not in my usual format.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ sorry for not feeding yall for awhile i been busy asl☠️☠️!!!! my sister lowkey got hit by a car

—“now he’s thinkin’ about me every night.”

luke tossed and turned in the cabin, clearly getting on the nerves of the younger campers. he couldn’t help it, though. luke was never one to be able to sit still when giddy with excitement. y/n l/n was basically the only thing on his mind.

of course she was, she was on everyone’s mind. luke didn’t know what spell she cast on the boys at camp half-blood to make them look at her like olympus lost a god. y/n was like a shot of espresso to luke, she could wake up him at any time of night. just like now.

“jesus, luke. go to bed,” a younger camper complained with a huff. he mumbled a small sorry in response, trying to meditate himself to sleep. he’d felt quiet jealous of hypnos’ kids. maybe then—he’d be able to sleep.

—“too bad your ex don’t do it for ya!”

you were better than anyone else he’d ever have. anybody else wouldn’t compare, not in the slightest. his other exes seemed almost incompetent with you in his life.

they didn’t hold him the way you did, didn’t have him wrapped around your pretty fingers like you do. luke looked at the past with sympathy for his past self. ignorance is bliss. ignorance being, obviously, that he didn’t have the pleasure to call you his.

he didn’t know what you’d put in his coffee to make him love you like you personally paint the sunsets every evening.

luke couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else even if he tried. and, truthfully, neither could you. you can’t even fathom that you let anyone other than luke wrap their arms around you.

mutual love. but, of course, to him you were everything. his one and only.

—“oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger!”

“there goes your wife.” “wait, what? really?”

chris just meant to taunt him. a little bit of teasing between friends. he didn’t expect luke to almost get whiplash from how quick he turned his head to even catch a glimpse. the camp counsellor clicked his tongue, lightly shoving chris’ shoulder.

“that isn’t funny.” “well, i’m sorry, loverboy.” chris rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. he wanted to tell luke he currently sees you. but he knew he’d be shoved again. so he kept silent, listening to luke rant about his shitty sleep since his mind was racing.

luke felt your lips press against his cheek, a quiet ‘mwah’ sound being heard. you giggled at seeing his shocked expression, putting a hand on where you kissed. luke got a loopy grin on his face, looking you up and down.

“hi, luke.” “hey, hun,” he greeted, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. he kissed your temple gently, smiling slightly into the kiss.

chris took notice to the fact that luke’s slumped shoulders looked relaxed, his pinched brows were raised. he acted like he just downed a redbull the second you came around.

1 year ago
Jackie And Wilson.

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 

“Okay. Love you.” 

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 

Or maybe because he’s hot. 

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 

No reply, as usual. 

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one. 

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 

“Why did you…come after me?” 

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 

“A dragon clawed your face off?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

1 year ago

IN THE SAME REC AS MY TWO FAV AUTHORS 😭😭 NO WAYY ILY ILY

no joke i’ve reread in a world of boy’s multiple times n every time murdrdocs posts i kick my legs a little.

love u i hope you have a great day

| luhvsage’s luke castellan fic recs | still a work in progress!

✧ - 18+

dancer @srvbryn

who stole the sun? @sunniskyies

✧ untitled 001 @murdrdocs

settle down @vauxxy

thief @lecsainz

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman @neo-nomatrix


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2 years ago

thomas thorne is so baby girl


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1 year ago

you once told me that the best movies are never ‘good’

that movies you hate are the movies that are simply better than others.

when you showed me your favourite movie, i told you that i thought it was good.

and it was objectively good.

couldn’t it just be good?

but it didn’t matter that the movie was good or bad or that it was maybe just ‘ok’.

what mattered was that i had contradicted you.

you expected me to remember everything you said, memorise every rule and regulations you had set.

but i couldn’t remember every law that fell from your lips.

i couldn’t fathom every thought that you told me to think.

and now we’re sitting on your couch in silence, watching the credits roll.

the movie was good. and i’m sorry that it was.


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2 years ago

“cardigan”

regulus black x reader

“cardigan”

- in which your rivalry with regulus manifests into something a little more romantic, despite your mutual ‘dislike’ for one another.

warnings: none??? idk bad writing because i haven’t written a fic in like 2 years lol. maybe making out. y/n has gender neutral pronouns so go nuts guys!! y/n is a pothead

regulus black never had many friends. during mealtimes he would often sit alone in the library and study, or sit with a crowd of slytherins he kind of knew but didn’t like. he was never able to formulate any sort of real connection between himself and someone else- until he was seated next to y/n in his 3rd year potions class.

“hi” they would mutter, plopping down on their assigned seat next to regulus. he would never respond verbally, but he usually shot her an affirming look. but soon after these muttered hellos and affirming looks, regulus and y/n formed an intense rivalry.

maybe it began when y/n accidentally blew up something important they were being assessed on, or when regulus got them both detention by speaking back to a teacher- but they were officially rivals. this rivalry continued into their 5th year at hogwarts, becoming common knowledge amongst the student body and the teachers.

“welcome back, 5th years. please take your assigned seats and we’ll start with the lesson,” their professor announced. y/n sighed and walked away from their friends who were sitting a few desks in front of them and regulus. they took their seat and set up their side of the desk messily before resting their head in their palm and staring at the board.

regulus shot them a few glances, never alarming them or making it known to anyone else that he was looking. he was just so enchanted by what they got in their last test, not the way their face looked when they were focusing on something.

“what are you looking at?” they muttered, looking into regulus’ eyes with arched eyebrows and a hollow expression. “you’ve got something on your face.” he replied confidently, looking back to the board. “wait, where?” they whispered, pulling out a small pocket mirror. “next to your nose” regulus whispered back, concerned by how worried y/n was about the state of their face. “there’s nothing there!” they said as they slammed the pocket mirror closed and adjusted their hair. regulus chuckled, raising his head confidently in response. “wanker” y/n sighed, rolling their eyes and leaning back into their chair.

later throughout the lesson, y/n reached for an ingredient and was met with a brush of regulus’s hand. they instinctively pulled away, resting the hand in their lap in retaliation. regulus smirked, shooting y/n a teasing glance. “can’t keep your hands off me, can’t you?” he laughed, continuing with the practical. “my hands will be on your face in a second!” the replied, crossing their arms. regulus put a hand to his heart and scoffed. “my point has been proven. are you in love with me or something?” he asked, earning a judgmental look from y/n. “i mean i’m going to slap you” they assured him, shaking their head.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. you guys are delusional,” y/n stated confidently in response to their friends concerns about her relationship with regulus. “are you sure? you flirt every potions lesson…” phyra replied as she arched her eyebrows and played with her dinner. y/n shook their head. “ew, i would never!”

phyra and y/n walked around the campus for a while, exchanging secrets and sentiments about their classmates. as they tiptoed around the school grounds, y/n made eye-contact with a certain dark haired slytherin, who sent them a sarcastic wink and walked off towards the slytherin common room. y/no face turned a deep red as they pulled phyra away and continued walking. “okay, now you’re flirting outside of class? what is going on?!” she laughed, earning a prolonged ‘ugh’ from y/n. “nothing is going on, he’s just being an absolute dick” they rolled their eyes as they walked alongside their friend. “i think you like him a tad bit” she whispered playfully, alarming y/n. “disgusting! i would never!”

looking back, maybe y/n did have some sort of feelings for regulus. something that maybe was a little different than hate or a strong dislike. they couldn’t doubt that they were attracted to him, because everyone was. regulus had a strong jawline and confident eyes, it felt as though he was teasing you just by looking at you. y/n knew that this attraction was totally normal! the butterflies they felt whenever they saw him was just the manifestation of their mutual dislike.

regulus, surprisingly, was a little more in touch with his feelings. he was constantly flooded with his own feelings of attraction whenever their eyes met, making him regret even waking up that morning because he knew he would have to deal with these feelings in almost every single class.

“what are you doing up?” regulus inquired late at night, leaning up against the walls of the slytherin common room whilst y/n sat on a couch with ‘the bell jar’ in one hand and a joint in the other. they shot a worried glance, trying to get rid of the smoke by whacking around the book in the air. “nothing!”

regulus smirked and walked over to where they were sitting, leaning over the frame of the couch and gesturing for the joint. y/n reluctantly handed it to him and sunk deeper into their cardigan. “you do know you shouldn’t smoke inside” he grinned as he took inside the smoke and released it nonchalantly. “where else am i supposed to go?” they responded, closing their book. “outside?” he replied, taking another hit of the joint. “honestly, i would love to go outside but it’s colder than the north fucking pole out there!” y/n whisper shouted, gesturing for the joint. regulus chuckled as he took one more hit before passing it back to them.

“so is this what you do in your free time?” regulus inquired, leaning further of the frame of the court. y/n twisted their figure to face regulus. “more or less, sometimes i don’t read” they replied, pushing back their hair. regulus stared into their eyes, pushing down a warmth in his cheeks. “why are you being nice to me” they asked, resign their head on the top of the touch, close to where regulus was resting his. “you let me have like, half of that joint” he replied, smirking slightly. y/n nodded their head.

“you know you’re pretty right?” he asked plainly, staring deeply into y/n’s eyes. “what? is that you or the mary jane talking?” y/n turned red and lifted their head up to turn their face away slightly from regulus. “whichever you prefer” he responded calmly. y/n anxiously played with their hands, trying to avoid eye contact with regulus. “um, it’s getting late…” they muttered. regulus perked up, pushing back away from the couch and back to the wall he was leaning up against. “right” he affirmed, lifting up his hand slightly in agreement.

y/n picked up her book and handed the rest of the joint to regulus. he shot them a confused look as they reached out their hand to him. “keep it, i have like 8 more” they assured, brushing their hand against his. regulus took it and stuffed it in the pocket of his pants. “i wasn’t lying when i said you were pretty” he assured them, crossing his arms. y/n shook their head, walking back to their dorm room.

regulus pushed back his hair and sighed, making his way back to his down as well. embarrassed by his attempts, he walked over to y/n’s dorm and knocked on their door. soon after knocking, the door opened up to welcome a flustered regulus and a confused y/n. “i like you?” he said with arched brows, holding the door open. “are you sure?” they replied, holding back a vibrant blush. “what, do you want me to prove it or something?” he said as his gaze moved away from y/n. y/n shrugged, moving closer towards regulus.

“maybe i do, maybe i don’t” they teased, before regulus lifted up their chin and kissed them softly. their eyes closed as their hands rested nearly on his body. he pulled away slowly after, stepping backwards slightly. “um, see you in potions.” he whispered anxiously before scattering way to his own dorm, leaving y/n to stand in the middle of their door frame, extremely confused.


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