#Luke fic

[wlntrsldler]

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again.

"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"

There was a bite in the air, as there always was when the summer began to fade and fall began to creep up at Camp Half-Blood. It happened every year, at least for the past three years you've called Camp Half-Blood your home.

Luke sat beside you on the hard, dirt floor, looking up at the green of Thalia's pine tree. The summer campers knew of her legend, but it was the year-rounders like you and Luke who understood her sacrifice best. There was a feeling of guilt and gratitude that engulfed all of you, like the protection Thalia blanketed over the campgrounds. You were thankful that demigods had a place to feel safe, but it came at the cost of a life. Thalia should be here.

"Of course she knew," Luke replied, unconsciously yanking out the blades of grass that flourished between the cracks in the floor. "She's your sister."

"Yeah, but do you think she knew I chose to love her?" You clarified, turning your head to face him. You did this every year, you and Luke at the foot of Thalia's tree once the summer campers all left for the year. “I mean yeah, I had to love her because she’s my sister, but do you think she knows that I would’ve chosen to love her even if she wasn’t? I feel like I never told her that. We always fought.” 

Each year you studied Luke and noted the things that were different. He's older now. His arms were more defined, muscles beginning to form on his otherwise lanky frame. He'd grown taller in the last few months and his body was adjusting to his new height. The pants he wore all of last summer were discarded a few months ago. They stopped short on his ankles and Luke decided that it was time to let them go. 

Another bead was added to his necklace, three wooden beads clanking against each other, just like yours, when he moved his body too quickly. A new bracelet adorned his wrist given to him by a young girl in the Hermes cabin before she left to go back to Virginia for the year. Luke had a collection of bracelets stashed in his bedside drawer. It was a reminder of all the demigods he wanted to protect. Some became painful reminders of the ones he couldn't.

Luke pursed his lips, "Sisters fight. I don't think she took it personally."

Each year you studied Luke and treasured the things that stayed the same. He still had the same smile as he always did, bringing you back to when you and Thalia first met him all those years ago– just three kids fighting for your lives all on your own. You and Luke were the same age, him only your senior by a few weeks, but he took the protector role seriously. Luke was your safe place before Camp Half-Blood. 

His curls were the same, especially in the mornings when he first gets out of bed; all wild and unruly, just like how he is when he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some people say it's because he's the son of Hermes so mischief ran through his veins, but there was nothing about Luke that mirrored his father. He was too good to be like the gods.

"I just wish my last words to her weren't that," You uttered, a bitter taste in your mouth as you replayed your last conversation with Thalia. In the final stretch of your journey to Camp Half-Blood, you and Thalia got into an argument. In hindsight, it was petty, a disagreement that any older and younger sister would have, but it felt big at the moment. You didn't speak to her for two days. And then, in the blink of an eye, there was a blinding light, and suddenly, your little sister vanished.

You don't even remember what the fight was about anymore.

"You need to forgive yourself," He said, flicking away the blades of grass he had in between his fingertips, "This wasn’t on you."

He said this every year, yet it never felt rehearsed. It always felt genuine when Luke said it. You wondered if he got annoyed at how you brought this up each year, this never-ending feeling of guilt that you didn't turn around to see if Thalia was behind you, that you couldn't protect your little sister, but Luke was patient with you. If it bothered him that you thought about it often, he didn't show it.

"Sometimes it feels like it is," You whispered, watching a singular pine fall from a branch. You like to think that Thalia did these things to let you know that she's listening. "Our dad hasn't talked to me since."

Luke clenched his jaw, wiping his hand on the fabric of his cargo pants. His warm palm took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "You're better off."

"Maybe."

"You are," He said, clearing his throat. His chest felt heavy as he spoke. "I have to tell you something."

You turned your hand over, lacing your fingers together. Holding Luke's hand always felt right, even when you were fourteen and he had to drag you away to safety from the monsters who were out to get you; even when you were fifteen being woken up by the nightmares caused by the empty Zeus cabin, a chilling reminder that your sister was supposed to be there; even when you were sixteen and began to take on more responsibilities at camp despite your protests. "What is it, Luke?"

"I have a quest," He admitted. He'd been keeping this from you for days. He was meant to embark on this journey today, but he pleaded with his father to give him until tomorrow to begin. He knew the day the summer campers left was hard on you. 

Your stomach dropped. Luke had been waiting for a quest from his father for years. You watched him fall into a pit of despair every time a camper who'd been at camp for a shorter period of time got a quest and returned with the glory of the strongest and bravest champions. You knew Luke wanted the opportunity to prove himself to his father. This quest was it, but it didn't mean that you were enthusiastic about the idea. "When do you leave?"

"In a few hours."

"Oh."

"Are you upset?"

"No," You said, then paused. You thought about it. Luke let you think in silence, rubbing his thumb along your skin. "Yes, but I can't do anything about it. I can't stop it."

"Say the word and I will, you know that," Luke rebutted, staring at you now. "I won't go if you don't want me to."

"Luke," You sighed, "You can't deny the gods."

"For you, I'd try to." Sometimes Luke said things that worried you. You'd always been told that your allegiance should be to the gods, your parents. Sometimes you felt differently, but you never said it out loud, but Luke had no problem doing it. He made it clear that his allegiance was to the people he loved, to you. 

"You should go," You said, ignoring the shake in your voice. It was tempting to tell him to stay; Tell him to be content to live a quiet life in the safety of these grounds, to be content with the glory he received from being the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, as the best swordsman at camp. But Luke craved more to life than this, you knew that. He needed more than another notch on his belt from Capture the Flag. He deserved more. He deserved a father who cared about him. Maybe this quest is the key to giving him exactly what he needed. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from that.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." The lie burned your tongue. While some demigods returned victorious, some never returned at all. The thought of it made a chill run down your spine. It made Luke flinch.

He wrapped his arms around you. The position was awkward, but neither of you cared. When you were younger, his curls tickled the side of your cheek when you hugged him. You used to be able to look him in the eye back when you were the same height. You used to be able to memorize the features on his face; the crinkles by the side of his eyes that would appear when he'd smile, eyelashes brushing against the stray hairs of his eyebrows; full cheeks dusted with the faintest shade of pink from the beating sun or the wind chills; a crease under his lips that cast a shadow on his chin.

Now that you're older, his curls fell against your temple when he held you like this. His face was thinner, jaw more defined and cheeks hollow, like his youth was being drained from him each year. But his heart remained the same. A steady thump against your own, a beat that became synonymous with home. 

“I feel like this is a test,” He murmured, shaking as he spoke. He’ll blame it on the wind if you asked, but he knows that his words would fall flat. You always did know when things felt wrong with him. Sometimes he thought that you knew him better than he knew himself. Luke licked his lips, “Like he’s expecting me to fail and prove what he’s known all along.” 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what the gods think of me,” You said, looking up at him. Luke was staring at the sky, jaw rigid as he fought back the tears. There were only a handful of things that made Luke emotional– talking about his father was one of them. He used to cry when he talked about May, too, but now when someone asks about his mother, his tone turns robotic. He recited her fate like a broken record, waiting for the inevitable looks of pity from the onlookers. You brushed your thumb along his jaw, “Luke?” 

“Hm?” His eyes darted to yours, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he studied your features. Luke always knew you were beautiful, but sometimes when he was this close to you, it knocked the breath out of his lungs for a moment, like he couldn’t believe you were real. 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what they make me out to be,” You repeated, holding his face in the palm of your hand, “And yet you never believe it for yourself.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d called him out on his hypocrisy more times than he could count. You were right, though. He did always tell you that the opinions of the gods didn’t matter, not when they didn’t know you like he knew you, not when they were too preoccupied in their own world to realize that you were the greatest thing they created. 

“You are more than what your father thinks.” 

He wanted to believe you, he really did, but all his life he’d been told that he was destined for something great. And yet the things he’d been able to accomplish so far seem so miniscule, irrelevant, in the context of the gods. He craved more. 

When Luke was a child, May Castellan used to mumble the same phrase over and over again. He didn’t think much of it then, nothing that his mother said usually made any sense to his nine-year-old self anyway, but the more time he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the clearer her words became. Luke was destined for something, it’s in the cards, it’s in the hands of fate. This quest might be it, the first step to reaching eternal glory. 

There are times though, during moments like this, with you beside him, when he thinks that he’ll be fine not reaching eternal glory. He can live out his life happily with just this; you and him at the foot of Thalia’s tree, with you telling him he’s more than what the gods want him to be. After all, he’d give up eternal glory if it meant being with you. 

“You’re gonna be okay without me around?” He teased. For years, it had always been you and Luke. It was a type of co-dependence that made Chiron and Mr. D's eyebrows raise. They found it dangerous. You overheard them talking in the Big House about it once, how unnatural it was for two demigods to choose each other despite the dangers of it. You joked that it was a trauma bond of sorts, but you and Luke both knew that it was more than that. Neither of you said it out loud, though, both too scared to ruin whatever this was.

“No, probably not,” You confessed. Your words took him by surprise. He was expecting you to join his teasing, but he found no trace of banter in your tone. You bit your bottom lip, “But you’re gonna come back, so I’ll be okay. I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 

Luke couldn’t help but frown at your words. He knew you were right like you always were, but he didn’t like the idea of things changing. So much in his life moved with the tides, and up until he met you, he was fine with it. But the idea of the two of you changing, the idea of one day not having this, not having you, well, Luke didn’t think he could stomach the idea. His lips hovered over the crown of your head, almost touching you but not quite, “Not us, though. It will always be us.” 

Luke didn’t know what he was destined to do, what prophecy the gods and the Fates had in store for him, but the only thing he was sure of was you. And that was never going to change if he could help it.

#frances writes #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke fic #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan series #percy jackson fanfic #luke pjo #pjo series #pjo fanfic

[dracowars]

hii! could i request a luke skywalker and reader (if you write for him) where they "rescue" grogu together and one of the dark troopers hurt her and he heals her and dotes over her?? just really cute? maybe she falls asleep on him and he carries her to her bed and she asks him to stay, they wake up cuddling and maybe a confession too??? totally fine if you dont write forhim but thanks!!!

counting on you | luke skywalker

pairing: luke x jedi!reader

word count: 2,5k

summary: where luke and y/n rescue grogu, but y/n gets hurt

a/n: i hope it's alright that i changed it up a bit, i went with the flow~ and thank you for always providing me with star wars requests <33

warnings: angst, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, force healing

universe: star wars

A spooky stillness reigns on the giant light cruiser, even the dark troopers pause for a moment. Even though you sneak around, the droids’ sensors pick up your presence with ease. The silence vanishes just as quickly as it appeared as the troopers line up their blasters and start firing at you.

Your years of training have specialized you for these kinds of moments, which is why it is not difficult for you to take out the droids one by one with a targeted and well-considered movement of your glowing blade. You decapitate one of them, the heavy head banging on the hard floor, while another one sneaks up on you from behind. As a result of its actions, a green lightsaber is rammed through its upper body from behind in the next second. The red light behind the lifeless eyes extinguishes and the droid collapses, smoke emanating from the inside.

Quickly, you raise your own lightsaber in front of your body, allowing you to deflect the blaster fire from the dark troopers who have not yet fallen. Again and again, you block their attacks and direct the dangerous projectiles in the other direction. Shortly, you catch a glimpse of one of the surveillance cameras mounted in the upper corner of the ceiling before it is destroyed by a deflected shot.

You know you are being watched.

Together and as a team, it does not take long until you have fought your way through the entire cruiser, through almost all enemy troops, and are now close to your final destination. The Force that called you here is incredibly strong, even stronger than you expected. And you can clearly feel it.

“Y/N!”, your name echoes through the battle as you pound one of the troopers against the wall with a flying ammo box, crushing it motionless. “This way.”

Disposing of your last opponent by severing its mechanical arms and legs, you extinguish your lightsaber blade and follow Luke into an elevator, adjusting the hood of your cloak that has slightly slipped during combat. You stand closely next to him, breathing heavily and trying to control your breathing, while the fight did not bother Luke at all. Which is pretty unfair considering how many dark troopers he took out on his own.

“Did you count?”, is the only thing Luke asks you, his gaze fixed ahead, his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. Nodding, you answer his question, and a small smile pulls at the corner of your lips. You can’t fully reply, however, when the elevator abruptly stops on the selected floor and the doors hiss open.

As if in slow motion, Luke steps out first, the green blade already lit again, and faces the crowd of dark troopers who have just been waiting for the both of you. Immediately, Luke deflects and dodges each trooper’s blaster shots, severing the first of them in two. Startled, you take a step back all of a sudden, not knowing exactly what made you do it, the adrenaline dulling all your senses.

Moving quickly, closely behind Luke, you also take out a dark trooper who has gotten a little to close for your liking. You use the Force to pull one of them towards you, but do not manage to pull him as close as you originally intended, which surprises you once again. Luke does not realize, however, as he swipes his green lightsaber across the trooper from top to the bottom. The next one he pushes backwards with a boost of the Force.

Thrilled and exhausted, you watch as he effectively crushes the very last enemy with the Force in a matter of seconds with a tiny flick of his hand, an action that only makes you realize just how powerful Luke really is.

You still have a lot to learn.

Now, you stand alone in front of the locked blast door that protects those you came here for. A deep indentation in the door indicates that you got here just in time.

As you stagger, preparing to open the thick door with your lightsaber, it already hisses to the side on its own, opening up a view of the bridge. The sliding doors reveal, even though blurry, a group of the most diverse inhabitants of the galaxy: bounty hunters, Mandalorians, Imperials, and…

“Are you Jedi?”, the Mandalorian in shining silver armor asks after you have removed your hoods and revealed your faces upon entering.

“We are”, Luke replies calmly, his eyes shifting to the left toward the small green figure hiding behind the back of a chair. You watch as Luke reaches out to the Force-sensitive child and asks him to come along. His words ring in your head from afar, as if he weren’t standing right next to you.

You can tell from the Mandalorian’s movement that they are still talking, but their conversation is drowned out by a loud and uncomfortable beeping in your ear. When a sudden rush of pain shoots through you all of a sudden, you wince and take another step back, as if something invisible hit you out of nowhere.

Instinctively, your hand grabs your side and when it comes into contact with your skin you can’t help but cry out in pain. The moment you look down at yourself and there is dark blood all over your hand, your blood, the realization hits you roughly.

You weren’t hit by something invisible. Unnoticedly, you were hit by a blaster shot, one that neither Luke nor you were able to deflect after stepping out of the elevator. This also explains why you staggered all of a sudden, why you were suddenly unconcentrated and could no longer properly recognize the figures in front of you, why you are now on the fastest way to the hard, cold ground.

If it weren’t for Luke, who catches you in one swift movement and slowly slides you to the ground, his hands tightly wrapped around your body, you would have hit your head. You do not want to seem weak, especially not in front of him, which is probably why you have been subconsciously suppressing the pain all along. However, you are wounded more severely than you thought, at least judging by the expression on Luke’s face after he took a closer look at your bleeding wound.

Perplexed and no longer able to fully comprehend what is happening around you, your vision only gets clear for short intervals. At first, you recognize several silhouettes looking at you, including the tiny green creature, while the next moment you hear R2-D2’s worried squeak. Then you are blinded by a bright light before feeling severe pain that suddenly vanishes again and then, out of nowhere, an X-Wing appears in front of you. Before you know it, you are in the endless vastness of space and then you slip into pure darkness.

When you can open your eyes properly for the first time after what feels like hours of being unconscious, even though your head is still constantly buzzing, it takes you a moment to find your way back to the here and now. A brown wall made of some kind of fabric reveals in front of you and you realize that you are lying on a makeshift bamboo bed, your jedi robe on top of you, turned into a blanket. Outside of what appears to be a tent you hear the soft cracking of a fire that casts eerie shadows on the tent wall. Unable to hear any other sounds, you quickly want to get up and search for Luke as the fear coursing through you due to his absence is quickly replaced by pain.

Groaning, you touch the familiar spot, where you were hit by blaster fire not too long ago, with your hand. Now, there is a large bacta patch attached to your skin, covering and protecting the wound. Slowly but surely acquainting yourself with your new immobility, you crawl to the entrance of the makeshift tent and pull the fabric that works as a door aside.

The light of the flames blinds you for a brief moment, but at the same time greets you with a pleasant warmth immediately.

“Y/N! You are awake”, Luke says, visibly glad as he quickly gets up from his cross-legged position next to the fire and rushes to you, dropping to the ground next to you while putting a safe arm around your shoulders. His other hand he places on your cheek and his eyes search your face for cluses as to how you are doing.

“I- Where are we?”, you ask in amazement, not being able to clearly see where you are even when you take a look at your surroundings. All you can recognize is that you are hidden in some forest in the galaxy. Your train of thought is interrupted, however, when a childlike cooing sounds next to you. You are shocked to find that the little green creature has come along this journey with you.

“May I introduce you, this is Grogu”, Luke introduces the two of you, and Grogu coos at the mention of his name, ears pricked. “Grogu, this is Y/N.”

Grogu’s little green hand touches your leg, seemingly his own way of greeting you, causing you to briefly giggle. You have to stop yourself, however, as the excruciating pain washes over you once more.

“I don’t know how it happened! I deflected all the shots, but this one must have escaped me and got you straight”, Luke chatters away, the guilt clearly written on his face. “The medical bay on this damn cruiser had hardly any equipment, so I could only put a bacta patch on the wound. I hope-”

“Luke”, you interrupt him gently, putting your hand on the side of his face now in order to force him to look directly at you. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It only hurts a little when I move. Or breathe.”

Luke immediately takes a breath in, ready to interject once more, presumably to tell you to lie down, but this time he remains silent as you pull his face towards you and bring your lips together in a gentle kiss. You don’t know what exactly made you do it, maybe it is the adrenaline that is still rushing through your veins, or it just felt right in that exact moment, here and now. Whatever it was, here you are, kissing Luke Skywalker and he seems to agree, actually deepening the kiss while leaning his torso more over your body, running his hand down the sides of your body, the side that is not injured. Wait a minute..

With a sudden jerk you promptly move away from Luke and look down at yourself, startled, examining the bacta patch that is still in place. However, the painful tug you felt when moving suddenly disappeared. Puzzled and not quite understanding what happened, Luke also looks at your wound, immediately grabbing your hand when you start to remove the patch, trying to prevent you from doing so.

“Y/N-”

“Wait, wait. It.. doesn’t hurt anymore”, you brush him off and he lets you remove the patch. Together you draw in a sharp breath at the same time as the bacta patch reveals your shining skin, no traces of a wound left. As if it never even existed.  

“What..”, both of you start, when Grogu, who has settled down right next to you in the meantime, answers with a coo, stretching out one of his tiny hands. At that exact moment the realization what this little guy apparently tries to tell you dawns upon you, and apparently also on Luke.

“No, no. That is absolutely impossible”, Luke immediately denies what you are both trying to comprehend at that moment, examining his own hands closely with wide eyes. He tries to understand that he healed you and did it with nothing but the Force itself.

“The sacred jedi texts say that-”

“Of course I just magically healed you with the Force and he tells me it’s what he always does”, Luke murmurs softly under his breath, causing you to look at him, placing Grogu on your lap while your heartbeat picks up again when you lock eyes with Luke. Questioningly, you stare at him, although you know exactly what he means. “I suppose now I will never have the courage to-”

“This is incredible!”, you yelp with delight, taking Grogu by surprise as the next moment he is stumbling backwards, R2 next to him beeping at you reproachfully as the protective brother he is. Happy and completely pain-free, you grab the little one and hold him in your arms so that he examines you with his huge eyes. Even though you know he can’t answer you or you wouldn’t understand since you don’t know how Luke is able to communicate with him, you smile at the little creature that reminds you of an old master while Luke still has to process the situation.

Which is more than fine with you, because that way he will not notice how fast your heart is beating after you have just kissed him out of nowhere.

“Courage for what?”, you interrupt him now, actually curious, but still a bit shy and reserved. The hope that he is triggering inside of you scares you. You weren’t even this scared when facing the dark troopers as you are in this moment. And Luke feels exactly the same.

“I- Well-”, Luke begins, but when he finds himself at a loss for the right words, he is the one leaning in and joining your lips in a soft kiss that you did not see coming at all. He gently moves his lips against yours and if you did not know better, you feel him smile against you every now and then.

Only when he breaks the kiss do you dare to take a deep breath in, although his face is still incredibly close in front of yours. His beautiful shining eyes light up at the sight of you, saying so much more than words ever could. Never again can you imagine living without that feeling inside of you, that mutual feeling of being loved feels so intoxicating.

R2-D2, who is currently talking to the child, does not seem to be bothered by the renewed awkward silence between the two of you. Rather, he takes this as an opportunity to beep even louder and tell one of his great stories.

“I-”, you try to start another conversation with Luke, who is still looking at you with so much affection that you could melt right there and then. Pulling yourself together, however, you slowly continue, emphasizing every single word: “By the way, I have eliminated fifteen dark troopers.”

There is a brief silence, and it almost looks as if Luke has stopped breathing for a second. But then he snorts loudly, and his beautiful laugh rings out to you. You can’t help but join his laughter until he abruptly stops and looks at you with all seriousness, his hand on your cheek and his thumb caressing your bottom lip.

“I got twenty-five.”

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker fanfic #luke skywalker os #luke skywalker one shot #luke skywalker one shots #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker imagines #luke skywalker ff #luke skywalker fic #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x y/n #luke skywalker angst #luke skywalker fluff #luke fluff #luke angst #luke x reader #luke x y/n #luke fic #luke fanfiction #luke fanfic #luke ff #luke imagine #luke imagines #luke os #luke one shot #luke one shots #star wars imagine #star wars one shot #star wars imagines

[suchalonelysunflower]

Was I on Your Mind? (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x fem! Reader

Requested? Yes by the lovely @whentherosesbl00m

Summary: Based on the song "Was I on Your Mind?" You find out something that compromises your paradise. Is a lie better than the truth?

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of cheating. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I'm sorry)

Word Count: 2.9 k

Author's note: I really hope you like this one! Remember that REBLOGS are incredibly helpful as well as COMMENTS and INTERACTIONS. Please SUPPORT THE WRITERS. Hope you like it and happy reading 🦋✨🌻

My masterlist // tag list on bio!

The clouds hid the sun behind them, almost as if to protect it from what was about to happen. You knew it wouldn’t rain, the clouds and the pain were still new to the picture-perfect paradise you built for yourself, the rain would only make it all go away and let it start anew.

So the paradise is gloomy and cold even with the windows open to try and make it seem alive; prove that it hasn’t consumed you yet. Or maybe it was just denial, still.

You haven’t cried since you learned about it. Not a single tear as the dark hole that settled upon your heart grew wider and wider until every inch of you was covered in dark matter. You let the pain settle inside you until it became nothing. Till you felt nothing. You just gathered up your things - the ones you had at his place at least - and left without looking back, taking your paradise with you to see if you could ever fix it.

The keychain on the table felt empty without his key to adorn it. You took it out today and left it on his kitchen counter, releasing yourself from the house that was now forever tinted with broken glass memories, where you know they’re there but it’s hard to see them through the damage. It was the last piece you had of him. All the pictures framed and all of the gifts he showered you with are now tucked and hidden inside the box that was now laying next to your feet.

The clock said it was 7 a.m, yet your mind has been reeling since 2. With a sigh you walked toward the kitchen and put the kettle on, he must be on his way.

You knew he would come eventually, it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t at least try to make it right. That’s something you loved about him, how he’d never let you go to bed angry or without at least talking about what was making you mad that day. But the valiant prince could not save the princess this time, no words or acts of service could ever fix her broken heart, so she walked out of the castle through the back door without even facing the dragon.

The water started boiling the second the first rounds of knocks were heard all over your home. They were desperate, angry even. You imagined him standing at the other side, knuckles white as snow clashing against the wood over and over again, hurting him as they got louder accompanied by the sound of your name. You waited for the tea to be poured into the two mugs, the heat evolving your hands when you carried them back to the table and left them one in front of the other. Only then did you turn to the door.

The knocks stopped once he heard the click of the lock being opened. You prepared yourself for this moment, but it was still as painful as ever to remain calm once the door was swung open and he was standing at the other side.

He was leaning over the entrance with a hand balancing his weight at the side of the door. His lips were parted as he breathed heavily, chest rising and falling with every beat of his heart. You knew he mustn’t have slept, not with the way his hair swayed in different directions - but the eyes were the ones that told you everything. Those bright blue eyes that were now hidden under a cloud of tears and dark, hollowed bags under them that mirrored your own.

“Y/N…” He said quietly. Your name sounded foreign from his lips, like a spell or a curse “What’s this?”

You looked at the crumbled piece of paper he was holding, the one that had your handwriting and your last goodbye.

“What do you think, Luke?” You asked, turning around and walking back to your home, hearing how the door closed behind him.

“Why?!”

You sat down at the table, not reacting to his outburst or his demand. You just grabbed your mug of tea and took a sip without saying a word.

Luke, on the other hand, was starting to lose it. A curse slipped under his breath as he crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it somewhere across the room, huffing. His sudden ringless hand messed up his curls some more before he had the decency to sit down across the table from you, begging you for an answer.

“Why is the first thing I find when I come back from the desert your key and a piece of paper that says you’re leaving?”

‘From the desert’ he said, and you almost believed him. The new album made the guys take new approaches to their creative process, traveling for weeks to a secluded place in Joshua tree so that they can connect with the music in a more personal way. Yet, when he said it, it almost sounded like the truth.

You looked him in the eyes, silence striking both of you as you tried to decipher where was the man you fell in love with. Was he still there somewhere or should you start looking for the remaining pieces of your heart that he still held hostage on the empty vessel that he called love?

Now, every word felt like a new charade. A new lie. You wondered how many of those you believed were true.

Luke sighed, frustrated with the silence as he dropped his head in the cave of his palms.

“Y/N, I’m lost here!”

“I’m as lost as you”

You could tell that was not the answer he was hoping for. His eyes met yours as he frowned, not in anger but in confusion. Could he tell? Or did he actually have no clue?

“Baby-” He started, but you shook your head, tearing your eyes off of him “What’s wrong? Talk to me”

“I- I don’t think I can”

Silence. A silence that contrasted the yelling inside your mind, all the questions, and all the worries. The fears that will not be out in the open and the turning tables of the lies that you hoped were just as recent as your heartache.

For nights on end, you wondered what it would be like to see him again. If the emotions will finally overcome you once you are standing in front of those baby blue eyes. What front would you put? Could nothing be enough to let him know what you know? Or would you just stand there with open arms, pretend nothing is wrong and continue with your paradise with the windows closed, never opening them again for the fear of what is out there?

But there was nothing to wonder about anymore. Not when he’s sitting right in front of you, demanding answers you were so scared to even ask him in the first place. But nothing can allow fear anymore.

“I can’t talk to you anymore, Luke,” You said, ever so calm and quiet that the clock on the wall made louder tics “Because if I do I’m afraid I won’t like the answers”

“What are you talking about?”

“Luke, why haven’t you called me this past week that you were away?”

The words got stuck at the tip of his tongue, only a breath to witness the unsaid. He lowered his gaze, just for a moment, and you wondered if it was the shame of the lie that made him do it.

“You know there’s bad signal there, we are not in touch with anyone while we-”

“Have you asked yourself why I haven’t called you this past week?” You asked, feeling the words burn down your throat as you spoke “Or maybe you didn’t even notice”

He said nothing.

“You want to know what I was doing this week instead of calling?” You asked, hands wrapped around the mug that was slowly losing its heat “I started to pack up, slowly. All the things that were in your house that belonged to me are now back here somewhere. I took my time knowing you won’t be back, I fed Petunia like you asked me to and took her on walks. I watered the plants and cleaned what needed to be cleaned. But with every passing day, I started to disappear from your world and you didn’t even notice. Not even a text”

“But… why?”

“I don’t know, I hope you could give me the answer”

Luke huffed and rolled his eyes.

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” He asked “I’m blindsided! Yes, I fucked up about not calling and shit, but fuck! Y/N, you can’t just take your things and leave without at least giving me-”

“I’ve seen the pictures, Luke”

He sat back. Your words startled him into shock as he looked at you with wide eyes. His fingers are still levitating from the wood of the table, pausing the constant drumming he does when he is nervous. It wouldn’t seem like much, but his reaction alone broke your heart.

You finally let out the thoughts that had been consuming you every night. The words that you rehearsed in your head over and over again, you finally said them even when you prayed to god you didn’t have to.

“What?” He asked, sounding small. Like a child getting caught.

For a moment your mind went back to those chill afternoons spent on his couch, where he’d never raised his voice to not disturb the peace that you created for yourselves. He would lay on your chest as you played with his hair, just enjoying each other’s company where everything seemed so perfect and real.

Now that image is shattered and you don’t know who to blame.

“I’ve seen them. I’ve seen… her” You said, trying to calm your thoughts “Pictures of you with her, by her side. Holding her waist as if you were afraid she could go away. I’ve seen you both in the background, talking very closely, wondering where I was in the conversation. Doubting my place, my mind. Pictures of days you said you were away to write, but the location tagged at a local bar. There were so many of just one night and I’m scared to find out if there’s more from the nights where you didn’t call”

Luke shook his head “You don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Enlighten me”

“I don’t know what you want me to say”

“Then tell me I’m wrong” You pleaded, holding his gaze “For the love of god, Luke, tell me I’m wrong. I want to be wrong, I don’t want to be right. Or tell me a good lie, a new truth that I can accept and we could move past this. Anything that could take away this awful feeling! Just tell me I’m wrong and I’ll come back, make me believe whatever you want, I don’t care anymore if you lie. Just tell me I’m wrong, please. Please”

Your lips trembled from the words, but there wasn’t a tear in sight. The beating of your heart finally caught up to the adrenaline, you wanted to carve it out of your chest and present it to him on a silver platter, making him see that you were not lying.

He could see it as well, all the pent-up energy now wasted on him. The desperation to cling to something he knows is lost. For every emotion you felt, he felt it twice as much and twice as hard when it finally hit him. Now the silence is back with an answer he would never have the heart or the guts to give.

The damage was done, the paradise broken.

And you knew. For minutes he sat there without being able to look at you. You knew there was no coming back from it.

“Did it feel good?”

“Y/N-” He begged, tears forming in his eyes.

“No, tell me. Did it hit you as it should? Did you feel free? Or was it just curiosity to see what you’ve been missing while you were with me?”

Luke shook his head, unable to meet your eyes as your words hit him hard.

“Was it survival? To have that primal feeling of calm, to do it with someone new and see what it was all about”

“Stop, please”

“I need to know” You begged “I need an answer that could help me live through it. Something that can explain why you decided to burn it down before our ashes even hit the ground. Did they make a sound? Give me an answer, Luke, something that breaks my heart completely. Something that shatters all the love that I have left for you. I can’t live with it anymore, I won’t survive it. Break me and tear me apart. Or lie to me and make me come back. I can’t keep going, I can’t not know why”

He clenched his fists on top of the table, pressed his lips on a thin line. He couldn’t answer something he didn’t know. Cause that’s the truth and you can see it clearly as day: he didn’t even know why.

“Was I on your mind?”

“Don’t-”

“Tell me if I was. Even a glimpse of consciousness during that time. When you kissed or when you touched, did it feel foreign or like coming home? Did you call her by her name forgetting mine along the way? Making yourself believe that I wouldn’t find out or that I never existed at all, pretending there was nothing wrong when I was sleeping in your bed. Was I on your mind when you decided that I wasn’t enough?”

“No”

And there it was, the truth that sounded sweet even when the knife cut through your heart like it was nothing. He did it. He gave you what you wanted.

And it felt good to hear.

It felt good to finally know the truth from a lie. It felt good to have that pain finally collapse its walls and consume you with just a simple word. It felt good to know that there could not be any love left, not like the one you felt before anyways. You were free, after sleepless nights you could finally rest with your broken heart.

A small laugh escaped your lips as you looked at him. His eyes were puffy and red, and the tear stains on his cheek told you that he was hurting. But you didn’t care. Instead, you laughed.

You laughed at the absurdity of it all, how he could be the one crying in front of the victim. The silence was finally broken by your outburst and his confusion. Tears of laughter ran down your cheeks as he mirrored them with regret. Nothing less to be said.

Once you calmed down and wiped the tears from your eyes, you leaned down and grabbed the box with his stuff in it.

“I think you should go,” You told him.

Luke’s eyes widened as he looked between you and the box.

“Y/N, please-”

“No,” You shook your head “No more ‘please’ it’s done, Luke. We are done and there’s nothing left for you here”

“No!” He stood up, walking over to you but you stood up as well before he could reach you. Instead, he took your hand “Y/N, it can’t end like this! I know I fucked up, I made a mistake and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I love you-”

“You don’t,” You said, taking your hand from his “You don’t, Luke. And if you did I don’t think I could believe you anymore”

“Then let me prove it.”

“I don’t want you to.”

He took a step back, almost as if you’d shot him in the heart.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to prove anything to me. I don’t want to hear you say you love me or that you made a mistake. It’s not true and you know it. Because someone that loves - truly loves another person, would not hurt them the way you hurt me. That’s not love and no words you say could convince me otherwise. You had your chance to lie, now it’s not the time anymore”

You grabbed the box and handed it to him. He was looking down, you knew it was for the best. You walked toward the door and opened it for him.

“Goodbye, Luke”

He just shook his head as he took wide steps to get out of there as quickly as he could, he didn’t say a word. But that wasn’t your problem, it’ll never be your problem again.

The paradise was officially gone and with that your chance to start anew. So the first thing you did when you closed the door was to break down and cry.

And you cried for the first time in a week. Cried for everything that could’ve been. The tears were not for him, but because of him. The tears were cleaning the hurt inside your heart, knowing that it’ll stop one day and the hurt will only be a memory for a rainy day.

Now, the clouds were gathering and the tea was getting cold. Let yourself feel the hurt, that the world will wait for you.

* * tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @hoodharlow @littledrummeraussie @bubblegum183 @irwin-fletcher-ash @wiiildflowerrr @in-a-world-of-fandoms @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @in-superbloom @sadcupofcoffee @personalmuyverypersonal @vtte @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @weasleytwinscumslut @fairytrice @colourfulcal @nibin0912 @hfkait @savagejane1 @youneedtocalumdown @ashtonsunflower @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore@alltimesos @wontlastimokwiththat @cncoangelss @whywontyoulovemecami @theimpossiblehologramtree @perriexed @abiancajg @rewmuslupin @icelily13 @bookthingz @kingxnichole @wildflower98

#luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #5sos #suchalonelysunflower #luke 5sos #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings angst #Luke fic #luke 5 seconds of summer #Luke 5sos #5sos luke #songfic #luke hemmings imagine #Luke hemmings fanfiktion #was I on your mind #5sos5 #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5sos fic #5sos fan fiction #5sos fanfic #5sos angst #5 seconds of summer angst

[tirednotflirting]

this could be heaven (if heaven was an actual place)

hello there! it’s time for the 2022 5SOS Song Fic Fest ( @5sos-fic-fest )! it’s here! we did it!

firstly! many many thanks to @allsassnoclass​ for organizing this event! this was so fun and i’m very very appreciative for your support and for keeping all of us organized lol.

this fic is inspired by the song Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa by FINNEAS. (it’s a good one! go listen!)

special thanks go out to @reveriesofawriter for reading like three different versions of this silly little story and also convincing me at least a few times that i was indeed capable or writing this. meghna ilysm, idk how i got so lucky to know you. also many thanks to @kaleidoscopeminds <3 somehow the moment i was questioning whether or not i should participate in this event, meg showed up in my dms to encourage me to sign up. she’s got super powers i stg. meg ily your support in all things means more than i could ever express. also - shout out to my roommate who let me read bits of this out loud to her to check for flow. she’ll never read this but bless her.

here this is on ao3 if that’s more your jam

happy reading :)

Michael is still getting used to not waking up alone.

Before, when he was off tour, he’d wake around 9. Though all of the health Tiktoks he’d get on his For You page (and his mother) would advise against it, he typically would immediately pick up his phone and scroll through the notifications that had gathered while he slept. Usually dumb things on Twitter and Instagram, late night DMs of dog videos from Calum, emails also from Calum related to something the PR team needs Michael to do. Eventually, he would climb out of bed and shuffle into the kitchen to wake up his coffee maker. 

While the coffee brewed, he would feed the dogs and turn on a podcast likely suggested to him by Ashton (he was big on podcasts for a while). He would let the dogs out to the backyard before sitting at the island with his coffee to continue listening to the podcast. His second cup would be accompanied by a scroll through his news app to check up on what was going on in the world. After he felt caught up, he would retreat back to his room, get dressed, and text Calum or whoever he was writing with or his manager, all depending on what was to be done that day. He didn’t spend all that much time with his mornings; there was always something to be done and he didn’t want to get behind on things.

But still, it was a mindless routine. His mother or Ashton would shake up the routine every once in awhile by sharing some tip they had heard or read somewhere that would have Michael adding in a glass of lemon water before the coffee or a gummy multivitamin that he kept on his nightstand to make sure he didn’t forget to take them. But ultimately the routine stuck to the same general pattern until Michael went on tour and would have to relearn the whole thing upon returning to LA so many months later.

That all changed after Luke became a part of Michael’s world.

It depended on the day of the week. He taught early morning labs on some weekdays and it made more sense for him to stay at his place closer to campus to get to those since sweetheart, I love you but rockstars live too far from the campus. This particular morning was a Tuesday, which meant Luke wasn’t due on campus until a meeting with his advisor at 3PM. That meant they could sleep in. That was the first change to Michael’s routine: rising a bit later in the morning. But the purple painted below Luke’s baby blue eyes worried him more than he would ever let him know, so they slept in a bit.

The ridiculous sleep schedule was one of the first things Michael learned about Luke. Though it had taken a week for him to respond to Michael’s first messages to him after being set up by Calum and Ashton (It’s not my fault they decided to set me up with their hot musician friend the week before my qualifying exams, okay?), Luke’s initial suggestion that they meet for dinner at 10PM was the first of an endless number of times he would make Michael laugh. It was the lack of predictability of their schedules that made their amateur match-making friends first think that they might make a good pair. Six months since their first date at the diner across the street from campus and everyday Michael thanks his lucky stars that his best friends love getting in the middle of his business.

On this Tuesday, something stirs Michael closer to around 9:30. They’ve managed to remember to close the curtains for once so the room isn’t too bright and Michael is grateful to not wake up to the blinding mid-morning sun. He hears a scratch at the door (the dogs are still getting used to routines a bit later than they like). Michael turns his gaze to Luke, worried that the sudden noise will wake him. 

Luke faces toward Michael, his chest pressed against the mattress and the blanket and sheets pushed down to the dip of his lower back. Michael’s eyes catch the constellation of freckles dotted along his back and shoulders that’s grown from summer afternoons at the beach with the dogs. If Luke were awake, Michael would probably trace a fingertip between them but again, his brilliant boy needs the rest. Blonde curls are splayed out on the pillow and half covering Luke’s face in a way that should look messy but somehow still looks like a piece of art. How Luke manages to look so angelic while unconscious is a mystery Michael thinks he could spend the rest of his life trying to solve and still come up with nothing. 

Chapped lips puff against the pillow at a slow tempo and Michael figures there’s no way Luke is close to waking. He gently slides off the mattress to keep the beat steady and shuffles across the carpet to the door. He hears a quiet whine behind him and turns. Luke has lifted his head just slightly from the pillow. His eyes are hidden behind the hair that’s fallen in his eyes and his bottom lip is pouted in Michael’s direction. Michael laughs quietly and walks back toward the bed. 

“Sleep for a few more minutes,” he mumbles through a kiss pressed to the top of Luke’s head and the tip of his scrunched up nose. “I’ll have coffee waiting on the patio.” Luke hums something that sounds like agreement to the plan (he rarely gets any argument from Luke when the promise of coffee has been made) and drops his head back to the pillow. Michael waits in the doorway for a moment, smiling at the scene of this boy he’s fallen so hard for even after just six months tangled up in his sheets. He pulls his eyes away and gently closes the door behind him, only just barely fighting against the temptation to crawl back into bed and let the whole day slip away from them under the cover of bright white blankets and sheets.

Michael shuffles down the hall and through a morning-sun soaked living room. The kitchen is lit up from the big windows over the sink, the light bouncing off of a flower vase sitting in the window sill painting the countertops with a pink glow. Michael starts brewing a pot of coffee, the dogs’ nails clicking against the kitchen floor behind him. Moose spends the whole thirty seconds it takes for him to dump a cup of food in her bowl whining and looking up at him with pleading eyes. He laughs quietly to himself and pets the top of her head before he returns to the coffee pot. Michael has taken a pause on the morning podcasts; he’s found that starting his days with quiet is more effective in lifting his mood. He likes not having to pause something when Luke eventually comes out to join him. 

He is comforted by the sound of the dogs eating their breakfast and the coffee dripping into the carafe. He remembers the first time he felt that, how he got so worried that he was settling into some kind of domesticity too young. When he raised the concern with his mom, she only laughed, saying she had felt the same thing at his age. He thinks about how his parents have spent their mornings for the last thirty years. 

He reaches into the cabinet above the coffee machine for a couple mugs (his, from a radio station in Cleveland, and Luke’s, bright red and reads Trust me! I’m an engineer.). He pours them each a mug (adding a couple spoonfuls of sugar to his own) before heading out the sliding glass door onto the patio. He’s found that the fresh air wakes him up probably even more than the coffee, if he’s being honest. It’s late September and living in LA means the tile under his feet is still warm despite autumn arriving a few days before. The dogs run around his feet before chasing each other into the grass and around the pool. Michael smiles, squinting against the light and takes a seat on the couch after setting the mugs safely on the coffee table. 

As he drinks his coffee, he finds himself trying to somehow savor the moment more than he normally does (he’s gotten a lot better at being present just in general, his therapist would be proud of him). He leaves for a short tour in a couple days and as much as he loves being on the road, he finds he misses the mornings most when on a bus for weeks at a time.

When he was away in June and July for a summer tour, he was reminded for the first time in a while of why he had spent so long guarding his heart from something like what he had with Luke. It was a tour with six bands Michael had spent the end of his teen years traveling across the country with during Warped Tour. It was like traveling with family, and yet Michael found himself missing someone other than his mom on tour for the first time pretty much ever. When he talked to Calum and Ashton about it one night in the parking lot before bus call and asked if they thought he was too into Luke and I don’t know guys, maybe this isn’t good for me, maybe we need to take a break. Calum had only rolled his eyes but Ashton smiled kindly and patted him on the back to tell him it was the exact way he had felt about Calum out on his first tour and then handed Michael his phone already dialing Luke.

Realizing his heart didn’t belong entirely to himself anymore was an adjustment but after six weeks of almost nightly phone calls (sometimes Facetimes when Michael found himself missing Luke’s too big smile and California skies and eyes to match it) and the trip Luke made to the Chicago stop (Michael, I want to visit the Bean), he thinks he knows how to go about things this time around. (It’s another thing his therapist would probably be proud of him for.)

It’s the Chicago trip that Michael is thinking about when he hears the back door slide open and a moment later, a pair of lips pressing against the bedhead he’s yet to bother taming. Luke joins him on the couch, immediately moving to fold his long legs up under him and settle under the arm Michael holds out. His hair is tied back in a tiny bun and he’s wearing one of Michael’s old stretched out t-shirts that’s threatening to fall from his shoulder. Luke looks so good in the mornings, it should be criminal. He takes a sip of his coffee and hums to himself, delighted at the taste.

“Good morning,” Luke says in a voice still gravelly from sleep, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. He presses another kiss against Michael’s jaw and drops his head against his shoulder. Michael lets his fingers tangle into the curls at the back of Luke’s neck while taking another sip of his coffee.

“Sleep alright?” Michael asks with a laugh when he hears Luke yawn. Out in the yard, South settles in for a nap in the sun. Moose continues to run in circles around the smaller dog.

Luke leans forward to set his mug on the coffee table. “Like a baby,” he replies, and leans back into the couch. “I’m going to come over here and steal all your fancy pillows while you’re out on the road. Costco pillows are like bricks to me now.”

Michael laughs. “You could just stay here while I’m gone, you know? Calum is going to be here to watch the dogs but I don’t think he’d mind the company.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Luke says with a wave of his hand. “We’ve already planned slumber parties so we can gossip about you and Ashton while you’re on the other side of the country.”

“As long as Moose gets her special treats, the place is all yours.”

“Thank you, honey.”

They sit in the silence for a while, the jingle of the dogs’ collar tags and the windchime around on the front porch a delicate soundtrack as they finish their coffee. Luke moves to stretch out along the couch when Michael gets up to leave their mugs in the sink and grab his journal. 

The remainder of their morning routine continues from there. Michael does some journaling, scribbling down some lyrics in the margins until he finishes up the prompt he had been working on. After a few minutes, Luke stands and wanders into the yard. He stretches and runs around with the dogs for a while (his bright laughter when the dogs run between his feet the music to go along with Michael’s doodled lyrics). Eventually, he returns to the patio and drops back onto the couch, his head dropping to the pillow on the opposite end of the couch from Michael.

Michael pauses in his writing and turns to look at Luke. He’s lost the hair elastic that had been holding the bun at some point and his hair looks something like a tiny lion’s mane the way it fans out against the pillow he’s resting on. His fingers are pulling at the bottom hem of the t-shirt he’s wearing in a way that just after they met earlier in the year, Michael has always interpreted as a nervous habit. He remembers being worried he was making Luke nervous somehow only to find out it’s just what Luke did when he was working through some puzzle or idea in his mind. Michael studies his face now, the way his nose will scrunch up just the slightest bit, the small lines forming between his eyebrows. Luke’s eyes don’t stray from their gaze up at the ceiling as he reaches a hand up to scratch at the pale stubble on his jaw. It’s like he’s tracing out invisible constellations on the ceiling of Michael’s back patio. 

Michael lifts a hand and gently pats at Luke’s ankle, a silent back in a minute with more coffee. As he heads for the door, he can’t be certain if the quiet buzzing he hears in between the windchime is the hummingbird visiting the feeder outside the kitchen window or the racing of Luke’s mind. He settles on the possibility of both and opens the sliding door. 

He leans against the island as the coffee maker whirs back to life and looks back out to the patio. Luke has sat up in preparation for more coffee and even from the far side of the kitchen, Michael just catches Luke’s dimple as he lets the dogs climb all over him on the couch. 

He thinks back to his parents again, about one particular picture that’s hanging in the dining room back home in Sydney. It’s the two of them, probably about the same age Michael is now, Michael’s dad laughing at something and his mom smiling fondly behind her mug. Growing up, his mom had always told him that that’s what love should be; someone who never stops bringing you joy, who never stops making you laugh. Michael spent a very long time thinking that it would be okay if he never found that romantically, that it wasn’t something he needed.

He thinks about the lockscreen image on his phone, a picture Calum had taken when the four of them had gone out for brunch in Chicago before Luke and Calum had needed to head for the airport. In the picture, Michael is wearing one of Luke’s hoodies and has an arm around the back of Luke’s chair. Luke’s eyes are closed in laughter and Michael is smiling as he reaches for his coffee with his free hand. 

Michael never intended to share his heart with someone else. But as he fills the coffee mugs again to head back outside, he finds himself making a mental note to print some pictures for the frames in his dining room.

+++

It’s their last night in Paris.

They had started the day ambitious, intent on trying the fancy place a couple blocks from the hotel for dinner but after a day of sight-seeing, they both knew that they were lacking the patience and energy required to get changed and be in public any longer. Michael had been trying to think of a way to make the suggestion to stay in to Luke in the back of their Uber when Luke lifted his head from Michael’s shoulder to shyly suggest that they chill that bottle of sparkling wine they had picked up the day before and order room service instead. Over three years together and it still sometimes surprises Michael how in sync they often are.

They pass a couple of the guys from Michael’s band and crew in the lobby (Ashton and Calum missing because there was something Ashton had needed to ask Calum at the bistro where they had their first date on Michael’s 2016 European tour). Michael waves to them while Luke asks for the ice machine location at the front desk. As they wait for the elevator, Michael intertwines his fingers with Luke’s, smiling at the way Luke never fails to squeeze their palms together every single time Michael holds his hand. It gives him butterflies that he was certain had all flown away when he was still a dumb teenager traveling across the country in cramped vans and kissing boys in the alleys behind shitty bars that had barely even let a teenage punk take the stage. He lifts their joined hands up to his lips as the elevator chimes its arrival. 

Their room is golden from the light pouring in through the open curtains as the sun starts its fall toward the horizon in between the buildings they can see from their balcony. They tend to be messy travelers (it makes Ashton anxious whenever he has to stop by for an allergy pill or Michael's Switch charger) and this trip is no exception, their clothes all mixed together between two open suitcases in front of the bed. It's not often they're allowed so much time in one spot but between some additional promo for the new single and actual begging with his booking agent, the band and crew (and partners with airline miles burning a hole in their pockets) got four whole days in Paris. Michael's been highly reflective for a number of reasons on this trip and thinking about how far he's come in his career, to be able to have that flexibility in his touring schedule, isn't lost on him. 

Luke doesn't wait for Michael to follow him before continuing through the entryway and launching himself onto the bed. Michael leans against the wall, a smile pulling at his lips at the sight of Luke wiggling out of a cardigan Michael is pretty sure was pulled from his own suitcase. He's been grateful to have Luke out on the road, though he's especially happy it was this week he was able to make it out rather than a week of back to back dates. As much as he loves being able to see his boyfriend standing side stage night after night, he felt that Luke needed the rest. It's been a long semester for him, finally nearing the end of his studies. Michael knows Luke loves the work (he has a habit of reminding him even in his sleep on his most restless nights) but he sent his advisor a last, final draft of his dissertation for edits a couple hours before boarding the flight to France and the weight off his shoulders is almost physically obvious. 

Michael tosses his hoodie toward the couch and grabs the room service menu before taking a spot beside Luke, Michael’s head dropping to rest against his shoulder. As the sun continues its daily descent, the sky painting their room in shades of orange and pink and purple as it goes, they call out anything that catches their eye to each other until Michael grabs the phone from the nightstand and dials for the room service line. Luke shuffles around and settles his head against Michael's lap and whispers last minute additions to their order as Michael smiles in between items to the person on the other end of the line. Luke doesn't move once Michael hangs up so he spends a few minutes running his fingers through Luke's hair fluffing up the curls that spent most of the day squashed by a beanie. He senses that the action is likely putting Luke to sleep so he asks him to lift his head back to the pillow, announcing that he needs to shower before food shows up. 

Luke sits up for a moment and presses a kiss against Michael's jaw before dropping his head back to the pillow. He mumbles a promise to not sleep through the food being delivered as he reaches for his phone to set an alarm. Michael laughs but by the time he reaches the other side of the room and turns back toward the bed, Luke is already asleep again. He leans against the wall beside the bathroom again and smiles at the scene before him. Their somehow lived-in hotel room is bathed in indigo as the last moments of the day fade from the Parisian sky with Luke nestled into the center of it. The whole scene is a combination of so many things that Michael loves: music, touring, this gorgeous city, the person he so head over heels for that he gets to share all of it with.  

He sometimes wonders if he should be worried, doing the long distance thing for as long as they have. Maybe he shouldn't be as comforted as he is by how well they work with Michael on the road and Luke as busy as he is with school but somehow it works for them. It's not something he's ever experienced with any other relationship in his life that exists outside of others in the industry. Up against everything that should make it all fall apart, they stand steady. He's never been religious, barely even spiritual if he's being honest with himself. But something about the view his eyes are taking in right now, Luke and their life and the skyline just beyond the balcony, feels like Heaven. Or whatever Heaven is meant to be.

-

A few hours later, Luke is twisting off the wire cage from the bottle of wine they had picked up. They're out on the balcony and the air is just on the cool side of a late summer night, perfectly comfortable with a hoodie tossed on. Michael doesn't bother closing the door when he comes back to join Luke with a couple of flutes he found hiding beside the mini-fridge. He smiles at the concentration shown on Luke's face when he carefully drops the cage on the table between them and starts twisting the cork. Michael places the flutes on the table a safe distance from where Luke is sitting right as the cork pops! into a potted plant next to Michael. Luke's laughter fills the air around them and he reaches for one of the glasses.

Michael watches Luke gently filling the glasses and finds his chest filled with an emotion he's been feeling every few hours since he woke up that morning. He's still doing a pretty good job at being present but he can't help the way he allows his heart to start longing for the boy across from him even before he's left to get back to the lab and the hallways of the university building Luke pretty much lives in when he's not with Michael. It's like there's a weight of something dropped onto his chest the moment Luke steps onto another flight away from him. It's a feeling Michael has had described to him from just about every person he's met on a tour who has a partner back home they’re waiting to get back to. It's a feeling Michael was hesitant to believe he'd ever experience himself. Now he's filled two albums just trying to describe it.

Luke leans across the table and sets a glass in front of Michael. He sits up for a moment himself and presses his lips to the corner of Luke’s mouth in thanks. As he settles back in his chair, his mind is pulled back to where they are right now: together, on a balcony in one of his favorite places in the world, in love, drinking horribly expensive bubbles. Beneath the table, Michael taps a slow beat against Luke's ankle with his foot. He feels floaty, like he's drunk on the moment before he's even sipped from the glass in front of him.

They talk about their plans for the week in the same kind of way that they would while making Sunday dinner back in LA. (In their kitchen, a title the space received about six months ago once Michael finally got the guts to ask Luke to move in. At that point, Luke had taken over a third of Michael’s closet, his entire bathroom counter, and was on a first name basis with every mail person that stopped by the house. Luke found the formality cute though and made a big show of changing his address in the university records when his lease ended the following month.) Michael and the band are headed onwards to Germany the following evening. Ashton had preemptively conspired some sort of reason to convince Calum to continue on with them to the Berlin show so they can be disgustingly in love and engaged for a solid 36 hours before Calum follows Luke home to LA. Luke has some meetings at the end of the week and needs to schedule a conference room for his defense at the end of October. Michael reminds him that the dogs have their checkup at the vet Friday afternoon and Luke runs inside for a moment for his phone to add that to his calendar because he had in fact forgotten. He returns with a quilt from bed and the slice of chocolate cake they had ordered earlier.

Michael shifts his chair closer to Luke so they can share both. It doesn’t get much better than this, he thinks, as Luke steals a kiss in between a bite of cake and a sip of wine. But then, he supposes, the city reads his mind somehow and the Eiffel Tower starts sparkling between buildings in the distance just behind Luke. 

Yeah, Michael thinks when Luke turns to see what Michael is looking at and gasps, pretty close to Heaven.

+++

They have three hours until Michael needs to be back at the bus and four until Luke needs to be checked in at the airport. But the previous night, drunk on chocolate cake and sparkling wine and each other, they decided they needed to visit the Louvre. Michael had bought the tickets online and texted his tour manager the plan with Luke kissing down his neck and laughing in bed.

They had to be strategic in their plan for this visit, knowing they were limited on time. Luckily for them, it’s gorgeous outside, meaning that the museum is a touch less busy than it might be on a rainier day. 

Luke decides they should finish their visit with the Mona Lisa since it’s likely to be one of the busier galleries and because he thinks it’ll be a cinematic way to finish off the trip. His labmates had been insistent that he tell them everything about his trip upon his return home, going so far as to schedule an additional meeting just before their lab meeting that week to catch up. He smiles to himself as he lets Michael lead him to the next gallery on their list, thinking about the chocolates in his suitcase he’s brought to share with Ellie and Jacob in their lab’s tiny break room.

Before he knows it, Luke is looking up and there’s a small crowd gathered around the center of the last room on their self-guided tour. They take a spin around the room first, admiring the other pieces gracing the space. Luke loves a museum day, but even more than that, he loves a museum day with Michael. He loves watching the way Michael will drop Luke’s hand to lift it to rest his chin in, his eyes slowly panning over a piece and then reading the card beside the frame, his fingers adorned with chipped black polish scratching at his beard. Luke loves art but there’s something about watching an artist love art that fills his chest up with a feeling he can’t even describe.

Finally they make their way to the room’s centerpiece, Michael’s eyes wide and maybe a touch watery as they take in the view. He’s been quiet in this room compared to most of the others. He reaches his hand back down for Luke’s, his eyes not leaving the piece in front of him. Luke keeps looking between the painting and Michael looking at the painting. He’s struck speechless, whether from the art or Michael, he’s not sure. He’s looking up at the piece again when Michael squeezes his fingers to get his attention.

“Not to be a dork but can you take a picture?” Michael asks shyly.

Luke smiles. “Of course,” he says, pulling out his phone. “Also you took like 60 of me with the Eiffel Tower, you are not a dork.”

He snaps a couple shots of Michael smiling just to the left of where the piece hangs several feet behind him, his cheeks pink and hair almost falling in his eyes.

Michael plucks the phone from Luke’s fingers as they step away, letting the people behind them take their turn in front of the painting. “How do they look?” Michael asks as he navigates to Luke’s photo app.

“Perfect,” Luke says. He reaches for Michael’s free hand as they head for the hall that will take them back toward the museum lobby. “Though she’s got nothing on you, honestly.”

Michael laughs brightly as they reach the stairs back to the Pyramid. “Now who’s the dork?” he laughs and lifts their joined hands to his lips. “Thank you for coming with me. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Luke echoes, and they step out into the light.

*

#5sossongficfest2022 #muke fic #5sos fic #michael fic #luke fic #cashton fic #hesitant to put that one but i'm proud of that side cashton alright? #they're fucking cute #songfic #also sorry i've never been to paris i was guessing for that entire section <3

[allskywalkerswhine]

in fics where luke gets plopped into the prequels i want every jedi within ten metres of him to think hes the weirdest jedi theyve ever seen. he has negative lightsaber form. he doesnt know what a kata is. he handstands when he meditates. his solution to sith is to try and have a chat. hes a political radical who keeps suggesting revolution. you ask him what the jedi code is and he says "kindness and compassion and helping those in need :) ". you ask how he used the force like that and he says some shit about how you are a luminous being limited only by your mind. the councils authority is just a suggestion. he is somehow the new favourite of both qui gon and yoda

#i think he Gets yoda in a way few do bc he knew him as a feral old man in a swamp and not Guy In Charge Of Everything #so he is yodas new best friend #and qui gon hears him talk for five mins and realises his ideal jedi is a real guy that exists #luke doesnt realise how much of a heretic he is okay he is a Luminous Being #luke skywalker #star wars prequels #stat wars original trilogy #sw originals #original trilogy #sw prequel trilogy #sw og trilogy #jedi order #star wars #sw #sw time travel fic #time travel au #the force #yoda #qui gon jinn #i think after a bit plo koon would also be a big fan #lee posts

[indecisivemuch]

Apples

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You tossed an apple to Luke without knowing the meaning of it in Greek Mythology (fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: Just wanted to write something lighthearted and funny. Since I saw somewhere that apparently throwing an apple at someone means something in Greek Mythology, thought I should use it as a prompt.

Word count: 3.1k

You have been at Camp Half-Blood for a year. Within that time, you’ve been claimed by your Godly parent, learned so many things about Greek mythology, and, best of all, made friends who understood exactly what you were going through and all whom you loved dearly. 

One of them was Luke Castellan. You two were relatively close friends, though you swore he treated you differently than he would with others at camp. But you didn’t want to be foolish and assumed it was something. That didn’t mean you don’t treat him differently than you would with other campers though. You have always had a soft spot for Luke in your heart. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but you found yourself thinking about him too often.

“Anyway, Percy. Don’t worry too much, honestly. We all have been through what you’re currently going through. You’ll fit right in, yeah?” the younger boy offered you a lope-sided smile as you patted his back and stood up. 

“Alright, boys, I have to go now, but I’ll see you later,” you said before grabbing your plate, which would have been empty if it wasn’t for the apple you hadn’t eaten. The rest of the table - which included Chris, Luke, and Percy - said their goodbyes before chattering again as you walked away. However, you halted as you changed your mind about wasting the apple.

You turned back to look at the group before calling out, “Hey, Castellan.” However, you were slightly caught off guard to see Luke already having his eyes on you.

Luke swore that you have always had him mesmerized. If he even heard a whisper of your voice, his head would immediately try to locate you. To make matters worse, Chris even started calling Luke a “lost puppy” when he realized how your departure would always leave Luke like one. 

“Catch,” you tossed your apple at Luke. 

Multiple heads turned in your direction as the red apple hurled through the air before landing neatly in Luke’s hands. The Hermes cabin counselor had his eyes glued onto the fruit that was in his palms. You almost halted in your steps from his and other camper’s reactions. Some started whispering to their friends, pointing at you. You even heard one gasp. But you ignored them, finding it strange that people cared so much about such a small interaction.

“You can have it. I don’t think I’ll have time to eat it,” with that, you vanished from the scene, leaving at least half of the camp agape, including Luke and your friends. 

Then, the strangest of things happened for the next few days. It started with Luke already stationed outside when you exited your cabin the morning after. He cheekily presented you with one singular flower in his hand, and you took it with playful words, “Ooh, what did I do to deserve this special treatment today?”

“Nothing, just thought I should show how much I appreciate you,” Luke put his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the dining pavilion. You could feel your cheeks flushing at his action. He has never done this before. With his arms around you, the sides of your bodies brushed as the two of you walked. You noticed almost immediately how every other person would have their eyes on the two of you. But you ignored the attention and focused on Luke instead.

The sweet actions didn’t stop at flowers or more physical touches. For the next three days, Luke was stuck to your hip. So it was quite strange that you have not spotted the Hermes cabin counselor in the last two hours. Hence why you were spending some time with Clarisse, another close friend of yours. However, you felt an arm swinging around your shoulders, and you instantly recognized who it was from the familiar touch.

“Hey, Clarisse, can I borrow Y/N real quick?” Luke asked, quickly muttering a “thank you” when your friend nodded. “So, I have something to give you…” your face must have shown how surprised you were because he chuckled at your reaction. However, when the boy pulled his gift out from his cargo pocket, your mouth fell slightly agape at the reveal. 

Luke must have misinterpreted your reaction because he started nervously rambling, his voice a few octaves higher, “It’s not much, but honestly, this is all I can do with my arts and crafts skills. I’m just not really good with that y-”

“It’s perfect, Luke. Thank you so much!” you gave him a brief hug, but it was enough to stun him for a second. Luke felt this urgent sense of craving from how your bodies fit for a second. It’s as if he was made to hold you. He almost pulled you back into another hug but had to force himself to regain composure. Nevertheless, that didn’t last long because his eyes softened again at the sight of you trying on the bracelet he made. The beads in your favorite color, crafted with care, wrapped around your wrist perfectly, and you wonder how he knew just the right size to make it.

The truth was Luke had to ask Clarisse to steal one of your bracelets just so he could make a bracelet of the correct size. But you didn't need to know that, though - according to him.

The next night, there was a social gathering near the campfire. Luke reapproached the location with a hoodie in hand. Earlier, Luke excused himself to fetch the clothing item that was now in his hand that was meant for you. However, his brows scrunched as he spotted another figure next to you, sitting in the spot that he previously occupied. You were laughing at something they said. The way your laugh echoed in his head usually sounded like a lullaby or the enchanting voice of a siren. But right now, the idea that someone else elicited the same laugh made him want to hurl behind the bush he was standing next to.

Little did he know you were zoning out from whatever the other boy was speaking about, thus the fake laugh to not blow your cover. You were distracted just thinking about Luke and everything he has done so far - offering his portion of dessert to you because he knew it was your favorite; him winning Capture the Flag and ignoring everybody else to go hug you first, then having his eyes on you and only you afterwards; sneaking out of camp to go buy the items you mentioned once that you wish you had at camp and so on. 

Your mind quickly reminded you that the boy sitting next to you was still talking to you. However, when you snapped out of your thoughts again, you realized now he was looking at you expectantly and you scrambled your mind for a reply.

Thank Gods Luke plopped down on your other side, saving you from having to admit to the other boy that you were not listening to him. “Hey, you’re back,” you commented. Luke’s arm automatically threw itself around your shoulder and tugged you to him slightly. Your body leaned on the Hermes cabin counselor ever so naturally at this before you turned to him. Luke quickly set his clothing on your lap, and you stared at it questioningly.

“You’re cold, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” your cheeks flushed again at how he knew without you telling him. You shivered maybe once or twice earlier due to the night air lowering the temperature, but it was so brief you were sure nobody had noticed. As you put on the hoodie, Luke averted his gaze from you to the guy on your other side. 

The Hermes cabin counselor arched one of his eyebrows in a challenging manner. Almost immediately, his ‘opponent’ slightly raised both of his hands. Luke internally snickered at the quick motion of surrender. 

“My bad, man,” you heard the other boy say as you managed to put your head through the clothing item and pull it down. Luke was physically preening at the other boy’s words and departure. Meanwhile, you were distracted by how you were engulfed by the smell of Luke from his hoodie. Your height difference also meant you were swimming in it, but it felt so comfortable.

“What was that?” you asked once the other boy was gone. 

“Nothing…” even the most oblivious person could see that Luke was lying. But, once again, you did not question his actions and carried on with the gathering. You could also feel other campers staring at the two of you, but you ignored that as well. 

That night - like every other night since four days ago - he walked you back to your cabin. You were honestly completely smitten by the attention he has given you, not that you would admit that to him. You were still not sure what caused the change, but you were still elated about it. Maybe he did return your feelings? Either way, everything felt perfect lately, and you went to sleep that night feeling like the stars aligned for you.

“I guess congratulations are in order?” Percy spoke up as you lined up for food the following day. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, taking the plate of food. Today’s meal consisted of mac n’ cheese, steak, and an apple. 

“You’re engaged?” you almost dropped your plate at that and gave the son of Poseidon a questioning look. “You proposed to Luke like a week ago?”

“What? When?”

“When you threw him the apple? That is considered a marriage proposal.”

“Since when?”

“Uh, in Ancient Greek culture, it’s considered a marriage proposal if a man throws an apple at a lady. But, I mean, it’s the 21st century, so I guess it can work both ways.” Percy finally took a plate of food for himself. “And if the recipient catches it, it’s considered an acceptance.”

“You saw this and knew this whole time without telling me?!?” 

“I thought you knew! And you two seem so smitten already, so I thought you did it on purpose.”

“Percy, no! Is this a well-known thing? Do you think other people who saw it too thought I proposed to Luke as well?” Seeing Percy’s look and how he was fumbling with his words, you quickly requested, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.” 

The two of you walked over to Luke and Chris with plates in hand. You picked up the apple on your plate and placed it on the table. 

“Luke, we need to talk,” You deliberately placed the fruit there, hoping the boy would get a hint about the topic you wanted to discuss. Luke’s eyes flicked from the fruit to you. Though the hint of amusement in his eyes and a sheepish grin made you realize he knew all along. Luke stood up and followed you out of sight and hearing distance from other campers whose eyes were trailing after the two of you.

“You knew what it meant, and you didn’t tell me?” You broke the silence as soon as you two were far away enough. 

“Listen, I appreciate your proposal. But, it’s a little bit fast, don’t you think?” Luke teased, and you instantly hit his arm at that, causing the boy to flinch slightly, but the smile on his face told you he was anything but mad at your action.

“But you caught it. So, technically, you said yes,” you rebutted, sighing as you rubbed your face, “My Gods, does everybody at camp think we’re engaged? Wait, is this a substitute for an engagement ring? Did you give this to me because of that?” you pointed to the bracelet Luke gave you, your mind now understanding Clarisse’s teasing and her implications. You could see the way Luke was stifling a laugh. He settled with saying something else when he saw the pure panic on your face.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” the nickname successfully silenced you. You hated how it made you feel, but you would not mind hearing that daily. “No, it’s not an engagement ring.”

“Oh, so were you doing all of these romantic gestures and gifts on purpose to make fun of me and the situation?” you asked, though it was more with a lighthearted tone than one of temper. However, something shifted because the expression on Luke’s face changed from one of humor to earnestness.

“No, I didn’t do all this to make fun of the situation or you…” Luke’s voice fell off as tried to find the right words to say next. In that split second, Luke took a deep breath, and you could see how nervous he suddenly became, though he still kept a light tone. “I did it because I took it as a chance to maybe…win you over, and it also gives me an advantage because it fended off many other guys.” 

Undoubtedly, you were frozen in place, unable to register the words he was saying and the implications they bear. Neither did the boy in front of you act like the Luke you usually know - somebody who was usually confident, outgoing, always having his way with words. No, the person in front of you could not even hold eye contact, the pink hue on his cheeks now spreading to the tip of his ears as he shifted left and right. Luke broke the silence first, giving away the nerves that were gnawing him away from your lack of response.

“How about this? I’ll say ‘no’ to your mind-blowing marriage proposal for now,” you lightheartedly hit him again, rolling your eyes playfully. Seeing a positive reaction from you, Luke let out a small breath of relief, but the nerves quickly overtook again as he mustered up all the courage to utter his counter proposal: “But maybe we could start with something slower like going on a date? — Or I’ll even settle with you allowing me to try and ‘woo’ you.” Luke added the last bit as insurance, in case you didn’t want to take up on the date. Part of his mind wanted to scowl at himself for seeming so desperate - but Gods, he has always been a desperate man when it comes to you. 

“You’re such a dork.”

“Yet you still proposed to me.”

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” Luke only shook his head in response. Once again, you haven’t responded to his offer. Luke could see that you were in deep thought, the cogs turning in your head as you digested what he just said.

“You mean it? That you wanna go on a date? That you wanna “woo” me and sweep me off my feet?” you questioned. Despite the humor in your voice, there was also a hint of vulnerability and cautiousness. “Does this mean what you’ve been doing for the past few days…they are all genuine?”

“Is it that hard to believe that I like you? I don’t think you even fully understand the feelings I have for you. I’ve had my eyes on you for a year now, which is the entire time I know you, and I’m afraid I can’t see that changing any time soon.” Luke had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying more because he was sure he would never stop talking about you if he could. Maybe those unspoken words ought to be things Luke would disclose in the future. If you give him the chance, he will ensure you hear everything he adored about you.

“Well, that’s good then, ‘cause I happen to like you too,” your words made Luke’s eyes snap to yours, almost in disbelief. 

Luke felt as if his heart was blocking his airway by the way it was thumping so hard in his chest to the point he could feel the vibration in his neck. He held his breath over your confession and the way you were looking at him. Oh, Luke was convinced he was utterly doomed because how could he be so affected by one single look. He was suddenly unsure whether he would be able to handle your affections or ever live without it if it was taken from him. He’d spend the rest of eternity like a deprived man.

“Aw, look who is nervous now,” you teased, deciding to somewhat torture him and get him back for teasing you earlier. “I did not think I had this kind of effect on you, Castellan,” you approached him slowly, keeping eye contact with his now dilated pupils. 

“I mean…all I did was say a couple of words and you’re all tongue tied. What would happen to you if I do this?” you swiftly grabbed Luke’s camp beads and pulled him down, eliminating a significant amount of space between your faces, though not completely. To steady himself during your action, Luke’s hands steadied on your hips and stumbled slightly, though you did not mind the touch.

You never knew it was possible for his face to flush even more, but it did. Luke gulped and your eyes casted down on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he did so. The way he reacted to you only intoxicated you with power even more. You glanced upwards a bit, eyes observing his lips for a split second before looking back up at his eyes. You smirked when you caught his eyes flickering back to yours from your lips as well. 

Just as you were about to close the distance, Luke pulled back just a bit, finally able to speak, though his words were heavy warnings, “If this happens—” Luke stopped, unsure he should let you know. Luke shook his head lightly as his eyes traced over your features before continuing, “If we kiss, there is no going back for me. I don’t think I could just…forget about it. So, please, just be sure before you do it.” Your eyes softened at his words.

“I promise, Luke. I am sure,” you muttered, though Luke knew you meant the words by heart from the way you were looking at him. 

You finally pulled the boy down again using his camp necklace. 

As your lips touched Luke’s, he let out a content sigh. His hands clung onto your hips, pulling you flush against his own body while you caressed both sides of his face in your hands. Luke felt like the world was swallowing him whole. The boy now knew what your lips tasted like, and it felt like an addiction. He could feel his heart waving white flags at that moment, completely surrendering to you. He was right before. There was no going back from this. 

But oh, if Luke knew an apple was all it took, he would have tossed one to you himself.

----------------------

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#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfiction #pjo fic #pjo #charlie bushnell #pjo imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo series #fluff #luke castellan fluff

[supercutszns]

Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 

This year, there were two. 

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 

“You alright there, sunshine?” 

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 

You haven’t talked to him since. 

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both. 

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 

He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 

Luke, calling your name. 

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly. 

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #perrie's requests #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #heroes of olympus #percy jackson

[lecsainz]

A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please

˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER

parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader

an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!

summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.

Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.

You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.

"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.

Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.

According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.

After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.

"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.

Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.

During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.

It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.

"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.

After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.

Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.

"Touch her, and you'll be dead."

You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.

"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."

You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x oc #zeus reader #pjo fanfic #pjo series #pjo x reader #pjo x you #walker scobell #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson headcanon

[vauxxy]

SETTLE DOWN!

luke castellan x reader

★ “for crying out loud, settle down!”

ABOUT - you hate his guts. he hates yours. but you’d by lying if you said you didn’t want to make out with him until his lips start bleeding. and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that idea.

WARNINGS - sexual references, sexual comments, enemies to lovers, steamy makeout scenes, no explicit smut. both luke and reader are very horny and very mean sooo two red flags lol

A/N - please don’t make fun of my english/australian vocabulary. i know americans don’t use the word ‘fit’ but LET ME LIVE IN PEACE!!!let me know if you’d fancy a part 2 <3

WC - 3.7k words

it’s hard to recall when exactly your distaste towards luke castellan first developed.

maybe it started off as rude comments and shoved shoulders, or simply the act of tripping over each other's shoes, paired with a few nasty glances. either way, you hated his guts.

this sentiment was obviously returned by luke, who was eager to constantly egg you on and rile you up. maybe he found it amusing- watching the ever so calm and collected eldest daughter of the hypnos cabin going absolutely ballistic whenever luke did something slightly annoying. he loved the way her mature and gentle persona shattered as soon as he provoked her.

it was rather strange how quickly they let their masks slip, letting themselves shout foul obscenities at each other as soon as a conflict arose between the two of them. it was like being near each other was the primary catalyst for their arguments and squabbles- not the actual contents of the disagreement itself, but the players involved.

curiously, luke’s terrible attitude was never extended to anyone other than you. around everyone else at camp half-blood, luke was the perfect gentleman. warm and welcoming to anyone who happened to walk past him, a great swordsman, well-kept, respectful and polite, the list goes on. he was perfect. but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire body shifted. he became something colder, something ravenous- something hungry. he was out for blood, he just didn’t understand why.

you were slumped over a picnic table near the cabins, tiredly observing all handful of half-blood kids from various cabins making friendship bracelets.

it was dark out, the moon and the embers of the nearby fire acting as the sole providers of light for the camp that night.

truthfully, you didn’t want to be there. you would rather be in bed, coddled up between your sheets for hours before heading down to the infirmary to help out the younger kids with their sleeping troubles. maybe afterwards you could go down to the theatre and join in on a few songs with the apollo kids, or even practice sparring with clarisse.

whatever it was, you didn’t want to be there. not with luke castellan’s eyes studying your every move. you didn’t need to lift your head to know he was looking at you- you could feel it. the arrogance was radiating off him and you could smell his pride from across the picnic table. your nose easily picked up on notes of wet grass, a neutral deodorant, pure spite, and vanilla candles.

after what seemed like an eternity, you eventually shot your head up to meet luke’s unwavering gaze.

“someone’s sleepy.” he smirked, his voice calm and cold. he looked satisfied; content with watching you slowly rise in anger as he began to coddle you and patronise your every move.

you ran a hand through your hair, fixing the messy state it was in after laying down for so long. “i’m not sleepy, just bored.” you retorted, letting your hands hold up your head as you stared deeply into his eyes, not breaking eye contact.

luke played along, refusing to blink as he picked up on the competitive gesture. “bored, huh?” he mused, shooting you a cocky grin as he leaned forward over the table. “you’re never satisfied, are you, princess?”

you rolled your eyes, letting your pupils meet the back of your head as you stifled a groan. you slowly covered one side of your face in your hand, hiding your pink cheeks as a result of his use of the nickname ‘princess’.

“don’t you have a loser convention to get to?” you asked, referring to the cabin councillors meeting that he was supposed to be at.

luke shrugged, looking to his side as he watched a young demeter boy making a bracelet. “got cancelled. now i get to look at your pretty little face for an hour straight.”

“i’m going to bed.” you grumbled, standing up from the picnic table, an unfinished friendship bracelet left discarded. you walked away, hearing little to no protests from the rest of the table.

luke’s eyes met the bracelet you left behind, studying it for a moment. the colours were cute and the beads were placed strategically along the string, creating an interesting and visually pleasing combination of textures and shapes. luke’s hand wandered over to the bracelet, quickly snatching it before securely tying it and stuffing it in his pocket.

luke wasn’t sure why he stole the bracelet. maybe he thought he could taunt you with it, or maybe he could just wear it for shits and gigs. it was a pretty bracelet- why wouldn’t he want to wear it?

a week passed by, and it was time for capture the flag.

luke had consistently come out of the games a champion, securing his place as the best swordsman at camp half-blood whenever possible.

you were tired of it. you promised yourself that when the opportunity arose, you would beat him to it. you would earn the praise he revived so effortlessly.

your determination to win capture the flag was also partially encouraged by the events of the previous tuesday.

you, luke, and a few other older demi-gods were forced to monitor the younger campers on a trip to the nearby lake. simple, right? wrong.

things went south fast when luke ‘accidentally’ nudged your shoulder a bit too hard, forcing you to fall into the lake. luckily, you were a strong enough swimmer and were able to get back on land safely.

“sorry about that, y/n. maybe next time you should keep out of the way?” he leaned in close, whispering in your ear.

luke smirked lightly as his dry hand rubbed the soaking wet and now transparent fabric covering your shoulder. his lips softly grazed your neck as you released yourself from his grip, shooting him a dirty look.

“you should watch your step, castellan. things like this happen to anyone.”

luke scoffed, looking you up and down as he took in the sight of your shivering body. “do they now?” he asked, his head turning to follow your figure as you walked past him.

as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but study your body as it became revealed by the fabric of the camp t-shirt sticking to your skin. how could he not admire the way he could see the vague outline of a lacy black bra underneath your top? or the way your wet hair was framing your angry little face? how you stared him down as your friend offered you a towel.

if you weren’t so acutely aware of how your figure was on full display, you would’ve pushed him in as well- but you were way too infuriated to even get close to him at this point… as well as the fact you didn’t think you could handle the idea of him taking off your shirt in front of you, all wet as his hair let water droplets roll down his torso.

maybe you could handle hitting him with a baseball bat a few times, but the idea of his face all beaten and bloodied was strangely appetising as well.

in all fairness, luke’s actions were not unprovoked. it’s not like you didn’t also tease him and fuck around with his temper.

for example, the very day before the incident at the lake, you had used your abilities as a daughter of hypnos to put him to sleep… for 19 hours, causing him to miss out on camp activities and lose hours of valuable training time.

you felt pure bliss watching him as he stepped out of the hermes cabin, confused and disoriented as hoards of campers instantly surrounded him.

“are you okay luke?”

“i heard you were in a coma!”

“we thought you were a goner,”

luke blocked out the concerned comments of his peers as soon as he caught you gazing over at him from the deck of the hypnos cabin.

with that ‘i got you good’ smirk plastered across your face, luke knew he had to get you back. getting to see your semi-exposed and cold, shuddering body in the process of doing so was only a bonus.

he felt a high from getting to see what he caused. what he did to you. it made him hungry for more. how else could he anger you? get you to show him more? how could you return the favour? would you? he didn’t know if you realised the effect you had on him- but he was going to do anything in his power for you to feel it too.

but those incidents were nothing compared to what was about to go down.

2 hours into capture the flag, and you had managed to fool and scare off enough members of the blue team, causing many individual members to go off track. those hours practising sword fighting with clarisse were definitely worth it.

you leaned against a nearby tree, closing your eyes for a moment as you fiddled with your sword. lost in thought, you heard something coming. more specifically, someone. you didn’t even have to open your eyes to know who it was.

“oh, hey castellan. isn’t it past your bedtime?” you asked, rubbing your eyes open as you lazily swung your sword back and forth.

luke scoffed, taking a step towards you. “i think i like you better when you’re drenched in lake water.” he smirked, looking into your eyes without breaking contact. he couldn’t look away. it wasn’t even because he wanted to intimidate you; he simply couldn’t stand to have you exit his field of vision. not right now, at least.

you look a step backwards, getting into position as you use your shield to protect yourself. “are you gonna try to maim me or what?”

luke took another step forward, mirroring your stance as he took the defensive. “and hurt your pretty little body? i’d rather die.”

you turned red, your mouth agape as you processed what he had said. “excuse me?” you spat, your voice breathy as your eyes widened.

“you heard me,” he smiled innocently, deceiving you before beginning to attack. you blocked every move, pacing around the area as you swung your sword at him. “you’re such a fucking prick!” you grumbled, trying to catch your breath as you struggled to mark him with your blade.

“language, princess.” he scolded, still smiling at you as he continued his attempts at disarming you.

that was the moment when you realised something.

you can play dirty.

not with your sleep-themed party tricks or your weak little fists, but with the power of unpredictability. the element of surprise.

you let him get closer to you, pretending to settle down before him. luke chuckled at the sight of your loosened grip on your shield and increasingly tired eyes, noticing the way your footsteps shuffled backwards and forwards.

“someone’s getting tired-“ his cocky sentiment was quickly cut off by the feeling of your hands tightly gripping his arm- his shock only furthering as your teeth dug into the soft skin on his wrist.

he instantly dropped his shield, his sword still held firmly in his other hand. you quickly released him from your bite, taking a step forwards as you put your weight on his shield. “ow- what the fuck?!” he stammered, looking up at you with red cheeks and a bleeding hand.

you were stumped. you hadn’t thought further than getting rid of his shield. “i didn’t mean to break skin to be honest. sorry.” you shrugged, picking up his shield and throwing it far away while he was still frozen in shock.

luke continued looking at you, silent as he became overwhelmed by the feeling of a ruthless war finally coming to an end within his mind.

obviously, he found you attractive. you were a pretty girl. sure, a lot of girls at camp half-blood were pretty. but for some odd reason, he thought you were much prettier. the type of pretty girl that deserved to be called cute nicknames every day and covered in gentle kisses every night. he wanted to kiss you softly, hold you tightly, say you looked gorgeous, make you tacky beaded bracelets that were the same colour as your eyes. he wanted to make you feel loved.

but he also thought you were a brat. always teasing him and only him. driving him insane with targeted comments and insults. purposefully making him look stupid in front of the younger campers and even patronising him for it. luke wanted to put you in your place. he wanted nothing more than to push you onto his bed in the dead of night, marking you as his. he yearned to hear your strained voice whimpering his name as he towered over you. he wanted to exchange knowing glances and pretend nothing had changed, despite the images of your hands gripping his bedsheets as you let out stifled moans etched into his mind.

luke often wondered how the two could overlap. how the fuck could these two perceptions of this one girl coexist? but luke didn’t wonder how it was possible to think about anymore, he didn’t care about that. now, he wondered if it was possible to act on both of his separate desires for her. he wondered if she even wanted him as much as he wanted her- if she wanted him at all.

“hey, i said i was sorry for making you bleed!” you called out, snapping him out of it.

“stop sulking! what, do you want me to kiss it better or something?”

luke blinked for the first time in what felt like centuries, shrugging as he let a sly smile creepy onto his face. “oh, im not sulking.” he insisted as he stepped closer towards the shorter girl.

he extended his wrist out towards you, a deep and bleeding bite mark engraved into the skin. “you gonna kiss it better, or…?”

you turned red, shaking your head. “i was just joking, castellan.” you murmured coldly, trying to avoid his gaze.

he kept his hand extended towards you, temping you to just take it and kiss it to get him to leave. “fucking loser…” you grumbled, holding his hand in yours as you gave his wrist a soft kiss.

“there, better?” you scoffed before luke’s hands began to tightly grip your wrist, spinning you gently onto your back as he pushed you to the ground, hovering over you. luckily, you still had your sword in your hand. you quickly moved it in front of you, holding the blade close to his neck.

“be careful, princess” he cooed, his sword digging into the dirt ground, standing upright in is position as the skin of your right thigh pressed against the blade. his hands gripped your shoulder and waist, keeping you bound to the floor as you began to squirm under his grip. “ugh, are you kidding me?!” you huffed, your face red from the feeling of intimacy between the two of you arising.

luke was basking in it, relishing the moment as he became almost addicted to the feeling of your skin against his. he let out a hitched breath, his eyes trailing down her frame as he finally realised just how close they were. the vulnerable yet stubborn look in her eyes set off a switch in him. you watched him curiously as he suddenly became a flustered mess, quickly scrambling off of you and standing up.

you lifted your back off the ground, using your hands to rid yourself of the dirt that had accumulated on your shirt.

“are you gonna explain whatever the fuck just happened, luke?” you asked, calling out to him from your spot on the ground.

he rolled his eyes, turning around to face you. “shit, y/n- are you fucking stupid?” he questioned, his voice reeking of irritation and frustration. you furrowed your brows, standing up as you approached him, sword and shield in hand. “oh, alright. forgive me for wondering why the dickhead who threw me into a lake a few days ago was pinning me to the ground in the middle of capture the flag for no reason?” i explained, seething as i pushed him back by the shoulders.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you asked again, letting yourself back him up against a nearby tree.

the game didn’t matter to you anymore. what mattered was getting to the bottom of why this prick was fucking around with you. sure, you liked how it felt being pushed against the ground. you liked the feeling of his blade pressing against your thigh. but you liked the boy more than his actions. you hated yourself for it, of course. this was the dude who’s been teasing you about and pushing you around for 3 summers straight- so why the fuck did you think he was the fittest guy you had ever laid your eyes on?

why did you want him to run his hands through your hair? suck on your neck till it went purple? why on earth did you spend countless nights dreaming about him holding you close as he slept next to you?

you were the eldest hypnos daughter at camp half-blood. you could’ve changed your dream easily; came up with literally any other fantasy at the drop of a hat- but you didn’t. you let it continue. because as much as you hated to admit it, you liked him. you wanted him bad. every last inch of him.

luke let your words echo through his mind for a bit. ‘what is my problem?’ he thought, his expression blank as he stared at you. “i don’t know, y/n! maybe my problem is you?” he said, his voice strained, yet still snarky and somewhat dramatic.

you rolled your eyes again, stepping forward. you kept your hands on his shoulders, pressing him further against the tree he was pinned against. “i’m your problem?!” you asked angrily, holding your sword against his neck once more.

“yes! you make me feel fucking weak.” luke confessed, gripping your wrist tightly as he pushed your hand away in order to create some space between his neck and the sword. “i can’t control myself around you.” he exclaimed, pushing his hand against yours as you retracted the blade from his neck.

“you bring out the worst in me, and i hate you for that.” you arched your brows, leaning forward. “that sounds like a you problem.” you quipped, defeatedly pushing the top of the blade of your sword into the ground as you let your newly free hand grip his chin- forcing him to look down at you.

luke’s hand wandered over to your face, his thumb softly grazing your bottom lip as you tilted his chin downwards, letting him look you in the eyes.

“don’t act like you don’t get exactly what i mean, princess.” he cooed, his voice low as his fingers traced over your lips and cheekbones, his other hand gently caressing your jawline as his fingertips wrapped around your neck.

you grumbled, standing on your toes to reach his height. “you’re a prick.” you scoffed, your eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly kissed him on the lips, his cheeks turning red as he mirrored your movements. he let his hands run through you hair, his other hand resting on your waist as he turned you around- pushing you against the tree now.

his hands ravenously scattered across your delicate frame, trying to feel every curve and dent on your face, back and waist. you pressed your body against his as his hands travelled across your form, closing any and all distance between the two.

after a few straight minutes of violently making out, you pulled away for air, staring into his eyes as your lower lip trembled in shock. you both tried to steady your breathing, lost in each other's eyes as your heartbeats returned back to normal.

“i’ll kiss you again if you turn around and let us win.” you said quickly, the offer seemingly the first thing you could think to say.

luke stayed quiet for a moment, before bursting out into hesitant laughter. “i mean, that’s a pretty good offer…” he said softly, letting his fingers trace your facial features as he studied the colour of your eyes.

“sure.” he said, a little smile on his face as you both leaned in again, the kiss a lot more passionate this time around. you held a clump of his hair in your hand, lightly pulling on on it as luke’s fingers jumped between gripping your neck and shoulders- the other hand running up and down your waist and hips.

you felt his knee hit the bark of the tree, slightly bent as it lightly pressed against the inside of your thigh. that’s when your hands began to grip the back of his shirt, your lips gliding down to the side of his neck. quiet moans escaped luke’s lips, only encouraging you to keep going. he moved his hand downwards, tracing circles into your hips as he moved his other arm hand upwards, cupping the space on the side of your breast with his thumb, lightly rubbing your ribcage.

the moment was only increasing in intensity- before luke was cut off my the sounds of someone calling his name. he quickly pulled away, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before stepping back.

“right, time to hold up my end of the deal.” he chirped up, leaving one more needy kiss on your forehead.

“oh, by the way-“ he paused, before quickly pulling the bracelet you made the week before out of his pocket. “did you want this back, princess? or can i have it?” he asked cheerfully, his voice low as he looked over you.

“keep it.” you said hastily, your cheeks a vibrant shade of red. luke nodded, giving you one final kiss on the lips as he put the bracelet on the same wrist you had bitten earlier. he gave you a subtle wink and a smile, before jogging away- leaving you frozen in place.

you could hear him talking to his friend from a distance, noting on how he lied to effortlessly- saving your arse over a few kisses.

needless to say, the red team won capture the flag. but luke couldn’t bring himself to care about losing. how could he care about anything other than y/n and her hands and her smile and her eyes? her witty comments and remarks? the way she tilted her head up to look up at him? the way his face fits perfectly in her palm? how could he care about anything else ever again?

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #pjs #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan enemies to lovers #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson tv show #pjo #luke castellan fic

[jamespotterismydaddy]

When Nobody's Around

luke castellan x reader

capture the flag pt 2!

A/N: not me keeping my promises and posting three days in a row

TW: so much smut omg, throat-fucking, pussy slapping, cockwarming, overstim

word count: 1,225 words

After what happened with Luke the other day, you need to do something to cool off, to get your mind off of it. Training is the perfect thing. You make your way down to the grounds with Clarisse. Your half-sister is the perfect person to train with because she fights so hard that it gives you no chance to think.

“Fuck.” You murmur. You’re already there when you realize you forgot something. “I have to go back for my sneakers.” 

“Don’t take too long, dumbass.” She smirks and you roll your eyes before jogging back to your cabin. It’s so weird because you could’ve sworn on your life that you had brought them.

You shake off the feeling and open the cabin door. There shouldn’t be anyone inside, all your siblings are training and whatnot. There shouldn’t be anyone in there, especially not  Luke Castellan who is sitting on your bed, holding your sneakers.

What. The. Fuck.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states, giving you an easygoing grin.

“Get out of my cabin.”

“No.”

“Not only are you not meant to be in here, I also don’t want you here.” Your voice is angry as you walk towards him.

“I think you do.”

You scoff. “Stop acting like you know me.” 

He gives you a sly smile. “But I do know you… very intimately.”

“If you’re here for another hookup, it’s not going to happen.” You say adamantly.

He stands up, walking towards you. You hate the way he towers over your smaller body. “I’m actually here to apologize.” 

“Apologize?” You ask doubtingly, not really thinking he was the type.

“Yeah.” His hands fall to your waist. You don’t shove him off right away, waiting to see where this all goes. “I was very rough with you before.” His hand slides up to hold your chin, thumbing your lip. “Maybe I wanted to be more gentle this time? Get down on my knees and eat you nice and slow.”

“I can’t stand you.” You breathe out as his hand ghosts down, rubbing over your breast.

“You’re such a damn brat.” He gives you a squeeze. “I thought I fucked that out of you last time but apparently not.”

You want to come up with some clever retort but all you can do is whimper in response.

“Now, how about you get on your knees and if you suck me well enough maybe, just maybe, i’ll get you off.”

You drop to your knees. You hate to admit it but you like the way he talks to you. No other guy has enough confidence to try and put you in your place.

“What a submissive little slut.” He coos as he grips your hair with one hand.

“I’ll bite your cock off.” You say as you unzip his jeans, tugging them down.

“We both know that would be more of a loss for you than me.” He chuckles at how your eyes widen when he pulls his dick out. He may have been inside of you but you never actually saw how big he is. “Suck it.”

You glare but take him in your mouth as far back as you can. You gag when the tip of him touches the back of your throat.

“That’s right, baby. Choke on my cock.” He murmurs as he begins to thrust into your mouth languidly. Your eyes water as you try to suck him off but it’s more like being throat-fucked instead with the way he grips your hair to pull your head back and forth. He gives a little slap to your cheek. “No teeth.” He warns as he continues to use your mouth like he pleases.

You’re surprised when he pulls out before finishing. “You can swallow my cum another time. I plan on keeping my promises.”

When you’re on your feet, Luke pulls you into a kiss. He taps your ass once so you jump, letting him hold you as he walks you back to your bed. He parts his lips from yours, placing you down so you sit on the edge of your bed.

“It’s your turn to get on your knees.” You say cheekily.

“Don’t go acting like you’re in charge.” He says but kneels anyhow. “I’m not opposed to giving that ass a few more smacks.” You shift a bit at the comment as he pulls off your pants. “Oh, maybe you’d like that.”

“I wouldn’t.” You lie as he yanks down your panties, revealing how wet you are.

“No?” He asks, amused before laying a harsh smack to your cunt. You drip out more arousal. “Liar.” He murmurs before digging in.

His hands hold tight to your thighs as he buries his face in your cunt. It’s stimulating too much and just the right amount all at once. You begin to whine and try to squirm away but he keeps you firmly in place with his strong hands as he laps up your arousal.

“Better than fucking ambrosia.” He looks up, grinning like a devil before nipping at your clit. Your hand is in his hair now, pulling tightly as you’re so close… so close and then… he stops.

“Luuuke…” You whine in frustration.

“Sorry, baby but you’re gonna cum around my cock.”

He picks you up like you weigh nothing and throws you back further on the bed before shifting his body between your legs. He uses his dick to tease your clit and you whimper.

“Please, Luke.” You beg, looking at him with doe eyes.

“Look at you, so pretty as you beg to be fucked. I’ll give you what you want.” His words are so lewd but his voice is so gentle.

He slips himself inside of you in one go, once again not caring about you adjusting. Though, he exercises a bit more restraint this time, not moving quite yet. He at least wants you to be able to walk somewhat well after this. He leans down to kiss your neck, leaving love bites that you'll have to explain later before he actually starts to give you what you need. He begins to thrust, trying to avoid acting like a rabid dog even if he knows you like it.

“You’re so fucking tight. Never had such a tiny little pussy before.” The way you squeeze around him has him throwing all decorum out the window. He begins to fuck into you like this is the last chance he’ll get.

“Mmm Luke, harder.” You beg.

“Fucking slut.” He says with a grin before slinging your leg over his shoulder so he can piston into you deeper.

“Want you… to cum… inside.” The words have him going feral. He uses his thumb to rub your clit, making you spasm under him.

“Is that all it takes? Barely even had to touch your sweet pearl.” You cream around his cock and he fucks you through it. The overstimulation has you seeing stars but after a few moments, his thrusts finally begin to slow. He stills and you feel his hot cum spurt into you, filling you to the brim until it spills out.

He slumps down on you, pressing tired kisses to your collarbone as he lets you cockwarm him.

“Want me to go?” He asks. 

It should be an easy answer. You should say yes.

“No… stay.” 

And he smiles.

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

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread

#luke castellan #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fic

[wlntrsldler]

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope. A greater woman wouldn't beg but I looked to the sky and said "Please."

The first time you burned offerings, you had hope that your father would acknowledge you. It was the day after you got to Camp Half-Blood. You burned your entire plate of food, choosing to starve for the night, in hopes that your father would offer his condolences. Perhaps, he'd empathize with you. You both lost someone, after all, you a sister and he a child.

But nothing happened. You thought you did it wrong, that your father just didn’t hear your prayers– he wasn’t ignoring you, of course not, what parent would ignore their grieving child? You stayed up the entire night reading ancient texts, knocking on the doors of cabins to speak to head counselors for guidance. You were too naive about this life to notice the pity in their eyes then. None of them had the heart to tell you that your father wouldn't show mercy, at least not in the way you wanted him to. They never did.

You tried again the next day, only to be met with the same fate. But Luke, who had heard of your attempts, saved half of the food he was given and knocked on the door of the lonely Zeus cabin to share it with you. He'd gotten in trouble for not burning an offering that day, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to let you go to bed hungry two nights in a row. 

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, then years, your offerings began to get smaller and smaller, until finally, prayers became more of a chore, a thing to check off on your to-do list. It stopped meaning something. It was three years of unanswered, half-hearted, prayers. 

Luke stumbled into Camp Half-Blood midday. A large gash was across his face, blood staining his skin. He was clutching his side, shirt nearly ripped to shreds, similar to how his skin was raw and frayed under his clothes. He'd used all his strength to carry himself into camp before falling to his knees when his eyes finally found you in the chaos of it all. 

He said your name once, voice hoarse and scratchy like Ladon clawed his way inside Luke, ripping out his vocal cords, not sparing a part of him from destruction. When he finally collapsed, you ran to him, smearing the red of his blood all over your own clothes, as the Apollo kids pried you away from him.

For the first time in three years, you were going to bed hungry again. The charred remnants of what would've been your dinner created a foul scent in the air. Luke’s blood was still lodged beneath your fingertips, staining your hands even after you’ve rubbed them raw. It made you sick. 

"Dad," You pleaded, watching the smoke fade into the night sky. Your tears were flowing down your face, chest heaving as you ignored the distant sounds of the campers you were meant to be looking after. "I haven't asked you for anything in years, but now I'm asking you this. They can't take him. Please, not Luke." 

For a moment the world seemed to still. The clouds in the sky disappeared, specks of white faded into the midnight blue. You turned around, looking for a sign of life somewhere, anywhere. There was nothing but silence, no sounds of owls hooting in conversation, no whistles of the air, no chatter of the few kids who stayed at camp. 

When the flame in front of you extinguished with a whoosh, the darkness engulfed you, leaving nothing but the thin light illuminated by the moon. Black smoke rose from the pit as you looked up to the sky, "Please." 

A flash of light vanished as quickly as it came. There appeared a ragged line perfectly between the peaks of the mountains, bright white, leaving a haze of silver in your vision. Then a rumble of the earth, shaking the ground your knees were glued to. Lighting and thunder. A sign that Zeus had heard you. 

A high-pitched noise rang across the world, different frequencies like it was caused by more than just one thing. The noise made you cover your ears with your open palms, groaning as you fell over by the sheer power of it. Then the world resumed, like what you just witnessed, what you just experienced, was a glitch in the fabric of time. 

Your offerings were nothing but ashes now and the clouds returned to the sky, this time carrying the weight of water as droplets fell on your bare skin. You stood up, rushing to the infirmary, barely beating the relentless storm that was brewing. 

Lee Fletcher turned around at the sudden intrusion, eyes wide in shock for the second time that night. You stood at the door, trying to catch your breath. He smiled at you, as he took two steps to the left, then disappeared in the other room. Luke was propped on his bed, shoulders hunched over as he touched the bandages on his face. As if he felt your presence, he turned his head, wincing at the pain that shot up his spine when he overextended. Even with one eye taped shut, you saw his gaze soften. 

His voice came out as a whisper, barely audible, but you still heard it. "Hey, you." 

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own. If it wasn't for the sounds of your footsteps pounding against the wooden floors, if it wasn't for your hands reaching over to touch Luke's face, warmth spreading against your skin to anchor you, to show you that he's really there in front of you, you wouldn't have believed that this was real. 

The gods were cruel sometimes. They messed with your head until you were questioning your own sanity. At first, you thought this was one of their games, one of the things they did to toy with mortals for their own entertainment. Perhaps, Luke wasn’t really here; But then you felt it– his heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Home. This was real.

"You're okay," You cried, hands grazing over every part of his body. You tried to ignore the raised flesh under the bandages, running across large expanses of his skin. The scars were still fresh, blotches of red marking the white cloth. "You're okay." 

"I'm okay," He repeated, a side smile appearing on his face. His hands gripped your waist, needing to feel you just as much as you needed to feel him. Luke wanted to tell you that all he thought of was you the whole time. Even when the sides of his vision darkened, and all he could do was drag himself through the familiar neck of the Montauk woods, it was the image of you that he kept chasing. 

You, waiting for him under the shade of Thalia’s tree. You, shaking him awake in the Hermes cabin to start your rounds around camp. You, smiling at him like there was something worth living for in this life. You. 

Luke wanted to tell you that it was the promise of spending life with you, even if he was nothing more than your best friend to you, that kept him hanging onto the thread of life. If he survived this, he swore to himself that he'd tell you how he truly felt about you. He couldn't die without you knowing.

"I shouldn't have lied to you," You said, "I should've told you to stay like I wanted to." 

Luke shook his head, "This isn't on you. I wasn't fit to go on this quest. I failed." 

"You're the strongest person I know, Luke." 

"This wasn't a test of strength," He snarled. Luke always got like this when he talked about things related to his father and the gods. Resentment dripped from his voice like honey. It wasn't a tone you were too familiar with because he never spoke to you like this. "I was right. This was a test of something else. He sent me on this quest to fail... and I fell for it." 

Luke did things with conviction. He was born to be a leader and it showed. He never cowered from a challenge. He held his head high, even when things didn't go his way. He learned from his mistakes and he made sure it would never happen again. 

But sometimes, in the rare moments where the pain of failure pierces his heart, he turns into the little boy you once met. The same one who did things for the approval of his father. The same one who defied the odds and fell into the traps of the insincerity of the gods. The same one who blamed himself for not being good enough– not good enough to save his mother from the Oracle, not good enough to save his friend, not good enough to warrant more than two sentences from his father. 

You always said that you and Luke were two sides of the same coin, both burdened by the feeling of knowing you should’ve done more, but differed in the way you went about life. Luke welcomed his responsibilities, fueled by his search for glory, while you shied away from this life as much as you could. 

Your mouth felt dry as the heavy raindrops trickled against the window pane, "I'm glad you're still here." 

"I couldn't leave you here on your own," He replied, voice dropping to a whisper. His hands tugged you closer to him. You let him wrap his arms around you, feeling his heart against your chest. "Can I tell you something?" 

"Always." 

"I–" This was it. He couldn't wait anymore, not when he faced death and all he could think of was how his heart would ache, longing for you, until your time came to join him in the afterlife. Even on the brink of his demise, all he could think of was you. He wasn’t afraid of dying, he was afraid of being in Elysium without you. Would it even be a paradise if you weren’t there?

Luke's words got caught in his throat. His confidence was at an all-time low. If you rejected him now, he doesn't think he'd be able to bear it. He didn't think he could handle the thought of facing the repercussions of this failed quest without you by his side. He cleared his throat, "I-I'm tired. Will you stay here tonight?" 

You nodded, running your hands through his hair as you gently laid him down on the bed, careful not to put pressure on his wounds. You kept your distance, afraid to cause more harm than good, but Luke was not having any of it. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his weak body. He couldn’t move much in fear that he’d tear his skin even more with any slight movement, but that was the least of his worries. In fact, he had no worries now.

He made it to Camp Half-Blood, alive, albeit a failure, but he was with you. There were no worries in the world anymore. 

“Luke?” You whispered. You turned to face him, recognizing the face you’ve grown to love even in the darkness of the cabin. The flashes of lightning illuminated his face every so often. Despite all of this, he still looked beautiful. Your Luke always did. 

“Hm?” He hummed, eye fluttering open at the sound of your voice. The noise of the storm was drowned out by your soft breaths against his cheek, warm and comforting. “What is it?” 

“You know I love you, right?” You professed, reaching up to touch the uncovered side of his face. He melted into your touch, feeling safe and seen in such a small action. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t make it.” 

“You should know by now that I’ll never leave you,” He chuckled, nudging your nose with his. “I’ll be kicking and screaming if they ever try to keep me away from you. They’ll have to send more than one dragon to keep me from you.” 

You laughed, “You’re insane, you know that?.” 

“I know,” He looked down at your lips. You’d both been in situations like this before, caught in the magnetic pull of each other, but had enough strength to pull away before either of you could do anything that would lead to regret. “For the record, I love you, too.” 

“Do you?” You breathed out, wondering if he understood your question. You said it to each other often. You both let it linger in the air, subtext and unsaid words on the tips of your tongues. “Do you love me?” 

The way you were looking at him made his heart race. Is it the right time to tell you everything? Is it too soon? Will you think that he was just saying these things because of what happened? Would you trust him if he told you that he loved you in every way that a person could ever love another? 

If he asked you if you trusted him with your life, you’d say yes with no hesitation. You’d trusted him with your life since you first met him. All his life, Luke had been taught to be wary of the people he met, but not when he met you. It was like you saw right through him. You understood him like nobody he’d ever met. 

“I love you,” He said, hoping that it was enough to show you. If he had his way, he would let you peek into his mind, his soul, and his heart, just so you’d see that all of him yearned for you. 

“Do you–” You paused, tilting your head to brush your lips against his. The storm began to calm outside. “Do you love me like this?” 

Luke’s grip on your waist tightened, hands burning against the exposed flesh on your lower back, “Yes. Always.” 

You sighed, placing your lips on his. You felt Luke shiver at the feeling. His lips moved against your own in a gentle kiss, innocent and kind. The rain ceased. You pulled away from him, continuing to trace patterns on his skin. Luke’s face relaxed as he held you in his arms, letting the tiredness in his bones win. 

When the both of you woke the next morning, the sun was shining brightly through the curtains, with no traces of last night’s storm to be seen.

#frances writes #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #LUKE #luke castellan fanfic #luke fic #luke pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #PJO #pjo fanfic #pjo series #percy jackson fanfic #the prophecy

[dracowars]

luke figuring out reader's father is obi-wan. like, it would be so awkward talking to obi-wan's force ghost now, "how am i suppose to tell him you're my partner?" 😭😭

general kenobi | luke skywalker

pairing: luke x kenobi!reader

word count: 1,1k

summary: where luke finds out who y/n's father is

a/n: how my mind works: if obi-wan is y/n's father, then satine has to be her mother lmao (it's not mentioned!) there is just no other way for me

warnings: none

universe: star wars

"W-What did you just say?", Luke stutters, halting in his steps, his eyes growing wide while he looks at you as if you just turned into a rancor right before his eyes. Since he stopped you in the middle of your rant with this kind of expression on his face, you frown, not quite sure what he wants you to repeat since you just kept talking and talking.

"Uhm, I just said that we are going to carry out this mission without any problems..?", you say, but it sounds more like a question since you are feeling really unsure as his facial expression does not change. Judging by his big eyes and open mouth, this was apparently not the answer he was hoping for and even though you are confused, you can't help but find him especially cute right now.

Usually, Luke has a strict plan, always following every order, but right now it seems like there is no logical explanation for whatever is going on in his mind and you genuinely can't wait to know what caused this sudden change in his demeanour.

"N-No, no. I mean about your.. your father?", Luke tries again, but this time he actually seems like his mind has stopped spinning and he came back to the here and now, looking at you like you are the one acting weirdly. Which you definitely aren't, but you can't suppress a small giggle as he appears to hang on your every word in this moment. Now that he mentioned your father, you at least know what caught him off guard and you can hopefully help him.

"Oh, about that. Well, I basically only said that I will guide you the same way my father used to guide yours in the Clone Wars", you shrug nonchalantly, still not getting why this simple fact got him all messed up.

"And your father is...?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?", you finish his sentence, giving him the answer he has been waiting for. Suddenly, Luke's eyes grow even bigger - if that is even humanly possible - and now you are not sure if you may have actually turned into a rancor right in front of him. But no, you are still very much human and Luke is still very much acting weird.

"Luke? Are you alright? Do I need to call a medic?", you ask, actually concerned now that he hasn't answered you for at least two minutes. He is just standing in front of you, frowning as he seems to be connecting things in his head. The more you look at him, the more it dawns on you what your words might have to do with all of this.

"Wait, you didn't know?", you question, a more or less humourless chuckle leaving your lips as you can't believe that he actually did not know this very important fact about you. About you and who your father is.

"You only told me about your mother, really. And you never dropped any names! I knew your father was a Jedi but not that he was the Obi-Wan Kenobi!", Luke whisper-yells at you now, finally regaining his voice, looking like his whole view of the galaxy was shattered with this one single statement.

The way he runs his hand through his hair, ruffling through it, and how he bites down on his lower lip, finally breaks you and you erupt into a fit of laughter. He looks so cute, all flabbergasted and confused, that you just can't help yourself but to laugh at the weirdness of this situation. You would really like to say that you did talk about your very prominent father, but right now, you can't think of one moment where you actually dropped his name. And this makes you laugh even more and, slowly but surely, Luke starts to laugh too.

"May I introduce myself?", you manage to bring out after your laughter died down, hands on your hips as you try to catch your breath, feeling exhausted by all the laughing. "I'm Y/N Kenobi. At your service, General Skywalker."

Holding out your hand, you wait for him to place a gentle kiss on the back of it as part of your introduction, but Luke only shakes his head in amusement, still too caught up in his thoughts.

"You can't be serious, Y/N!", he almost reproaches you, running his hands over his face while sighing. Then, he takes a step closer, grabbing your hand and placing it against his chest as he leans in.

"How am I supposed to tell him that you are my partner? That we are a thing?", Luke whispers, but he is doing it so quietly as if he expects your father to listen in on every word, putting strong emphasis on his last words.

"I mean, that is not really my problem, is it?", you tease him, taking his proximity to you as a chance to place a soft kiss on his cheek, which riles him up even more. Caressing his cheek with one hand, you fix his disheveled hair with the other and smile your brightest smile at him while he apparently sees his life passing by.

"You are evil, you know that right?", Luke whines, pouting while you are enjoying this more than you probably should. But deep inside, you got a feeling that your father already knows about the two of you. You certainly did not talk to him about it, however, he has always been good at observing and you feel like this ability got even better since he became one with the Force.

"Just.. don't act like you did right now and you will be fine", you giggle, pinching his cheek before leaving a quick kiss on his lips. You catch his eye, wanting him to say something, anything, but all you see is utter fear. Only when you notice that he is looking at something behind you, you follow his stare and see your father, in all his Force ghost glory, making his way over to the both of you.

"Oh, is that Leia over there? I really need to talk to her about the mission", you lie with a bright smile on your lips and you squeeze Luke's hand to give him strength and support.

Completely frozen, he stands in front of you, but he somehow manages to take a deep breath after a few seconds to mentally prepare himself for what is about to come. The strongest Jedi you know nearly gets defeated by a simple conversation with your father, his master.

"I will leave you two alone then", you say your goodbye, waving to your father who is coming closer as you two talk, and make your way to actually find Leia. Turning around one last time, you give your boyfriend a thumbs up which he only replies to with a small smile.

Luke Skywalker is a great fighter, a Jedi who always finds a way out, who always has a plan, who can face the strongest opponent, but the one person he can't face right now is your father. And when he does, as your boyfriend, it is not as bad as expected.

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker os #luke skywalker fic #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker one shot #luke skywalker one shots #luke skywalker imagines #luke skywalker fanfic #luke skywalker ff #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker fluff #luke skywalker x female reader #luke skywalker x y/n #luke fluff #luke x y/n #luke x female reader #luke imagine #luke imagines #luke fic #luke fanfic #luke fanfiction #luke ff #luke os #luke one shot #luke one shots #sw imagine #star wars os #star wars one shot #star wars fanfic #sw one shot

[hrtsforhorror]

“I can fix him” that’s nice, I’m going to join him in his insanity

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo series #i love fictional men #luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #hrtsforhorror

[slu7formen]

disarmed by desire. | luke castellan x f.r

₊˚⊹♡ luke can’t seem to get out of his head a certain someone, things become even harder when that certain someone, is an aphrodite’s daughter.

warnings: seduction, sexual tension, luke is obsessed over reader, reader’s an aphrodite’s daughter, reader has long hair (not really a warning but whatever).

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

pt2 here

Luke Castellan was obsessed with you.

No, not obsessed. He worshipped you.

He didn’t even know when it started. It was not one thing or situation that started it all, but little small things he witnessed that eventually lead to his confusing and strong feelings he wanted to desperately hide.

Being an Aphrodite’s daughter was no joke, nor was it falling for one of them. All of your brothers and sisters shared an unbeatable beauty. Each one of you is so different, but yet so similar. But the more you grew since your arrival to the camp when you were fifteen, the more you stood out to Luke’s eyes. The Aphrodite cabin girls were known for their charm, but you seemed different, less concerned with vanity and more with genuine connection.

The first flicker appeared during Capture the Flag. Luke wasn't actively participating, a rare occurrence for the camp's best swordsman. Instead, he leaned against a tree, nursing a minor but piercing shoulder wound himself, when she appeared. She wasn’t running across the battlefield like a fiery warrior, but holding a kid’s hand as he was a whimpering mess walking behind her, he sat down on a rock and she instantly attended his bloody knee.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry” her voice had said, and the little kid almost immediately stopped sobbing. “Other kids can be mean sometimes. What’s your name?”

Luke watched, spellbound, as your nimble fingers, surprisingly calloused for a daughter of Aphrodite, expertly cleaned and bandaged the wound. Sunlight kissed your hair, turning the braids into strands of melted gold. Laughter danced in your voice, calming the kid down and blending with the clash of swords.

It wasn't just your beauty, though that was undeniable. It was the tenderness in your touch, the quiet confidence radiating from you, a stark contrast to the usual flirtatiousness Luke associated with your cabin. He quickly realized you were also one of the few Aphrodite’s daughter who had the ability of influencing others with your voice; charmspeaking.

Even when your voice didn’t resonate for him, but for the little kid you were attending, he felt undeniably attracted to your sweet melody, maybe that’s why he stared so long at you too.

Then, your eyes met his. A smile bloomed on your lips. "Need some patching up yourself, brave knight?"

His breath hitched as your eyes pierced his, a blush creeping up his neck. He stammered, "No, I'm good." But the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He wasn't just injured physically; a new wound had opened in his chest, one caused by a flirty smile and a concern genuine enough to pierce through his thick built-up walls.

Luke's attraction to you wasn't solely physical, but he'd be lying if he didn't find himself momentarily stunned by the way you carried yourself.

He couldn't help but steal glances when you wore shorter skirts or crop tops that hinted at the toned physique earned through years of training, or when the older campers organized a secret night out at the lake in which you made sure to wear the best bikini you could find. He'd catch himself mesmerized by the way sunlight would dance on the curves of your body, sending a flicker of heat through him and his own veins. There was an undeniable beauty in your perfectly applied makeup, but it only served to highlight the mischief sparkling in your eyes and the warmth etched on your smile.

It wasn't just the jealousy your beauty ignited in other girls, or the admiration you garnered from younger campers. It was the way you moved, how confidence flowed through you like liquid gold, making even the simplest actions seem captivating. One afternoon, he saw you braiding wildflowers into your hair, your fingers moving with practiced ease, and he found himself staring with parted lips, hypnotized by the delicate beauty you created.

He started finding himself drawn to her laughter, its rich melody echoing through the camp. He'd catch glimpses of her practicing archery, her form uncannily elegant even as she sent arrow after arrow into the bullseye.

She was perfect.

His mind would try to rationalize, tell him it was the warrior in you that drew him in, the way you handled a sword with both grace and ferocity. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was the way your beauty existed in perfect harmony with your strength, a potent combination that left him both breathless and curious.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, not even to himself, but the truth was, Luke found himself daydreaming about brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth of your skin against his fingertips as he leaned it for a kiss of your sugar lips. Something as simple as that had him zoning out of every conversation and forgetting about activities in the camp. He imagined the playful glint in your eyes when you caught him staring, the teasing lilt in your voice as you challenged him to a duel.

Until, well… a true duel emerged. Summer was just starting after all, and practice needed to be done.

Steel sang beneath the afternoon sun as their practice began. The sky was painted with orange and bright yellow colors, as your darkened figures danced around the field. Luke, known throughout camp as the prodigy at sword fighting, moved with a controlled ferocity, his blade a blur of deadly grace. But his opponent today wasn't your average camper. You wielded your sword with the effortless elegance of a former ballerina, impressive to be someone who’s main skill is not fighting, he had to admit. Each parry was a pirouette, each attack a leap defying gravity.

Sparks flew as your blades clashed, but where Luke relied on brute force, you danced around him, using your agility and unexpected angles to deflect his blows. He felt a frustrated flush creep up his neck and loudly beat inside his chest, every missed strike fueling the unspoken tension swirling between you.

Sweat already glistened on your sun-kissed skin, adding a raw allure to your perfectly applied makeup. It dripped down your collarbone and hid underneath your shirt.

Luke fought with intensity, fuelled not just by the thrill of the duel, but by the desire to impress the captivating enigma before him. You, in turn, met his ferocity with playful taunts and flirtatious dodges, your laughter tinkling in his ears.

Some campers have forgotten about their own practices, drawn to the captivating spectacle between you two. Whispers swirled about Luke's unmatched skill, your surprising prowess, and the undeniable spark crackling between you.

“Look at that” Grover shook Annabeth’s arm, eyes pierced in two shadows swiftly moving around the grass, clashing their blades with resonating grunts and heavy breaths.

“Who’s that?” Percy suddenly asked, eyes wide and parted lips hypnotized by the slender figure whose hair flew around like it had its own life.

“yn, an Aphrodite’s daughter” his friend explained. “Not bad at swords at all, though. But she’s got Luke on his nerves”

Percy nodded. “Yeah, I can tell”

But Annabeth laughed. “Not that kind of nerves. Let’s just say she’s enjoying the attention Luke gives her”

The fight went on, each passing moment stretching the boundaries of skill and endurance. Your movements were a whirlwind of elegance and precision, forcing Luke to constantly adapt, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Tired, hero?" you purred, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you walked around him and twirled your sword, the sunlight reflecting off its polished surface. "Perhaps a touch of Aphrodite's charm is what you need?"

Luke gritted his teeth, channeling his growing attraction into focused strikes. But despite the heat of the battle, your image kept blurring his vision - your smile, the way your hair fell around your face, how your cheeks flushed red and your glossy lips parted as you blocked his movement against you one more time. He felt his defenses crumbling, his usual stoicism replaced by a raw need to prove himself, not just as a swordsman, but as a man worthy of your attention.

“Careful, princess. Playing with fire might just burn you” he countered as he parried a particularly fierce blow, the impact sending a tremor up his arm. His voice was low enough for only you to hear.

"Oh, Luke" you laughed. “Thanks for worrying so much about me but, I know how to handle a little heat" You lunged, your blade aimed for his shoulder. He barely deflected it, the tip grazing his bicep, sending a jolt of adrenaline through him.

In a swift, mesmerizing blur, your blade danced around his, finding an opening. The clang of steel resonated as your sword disarmed him, sending his clattering to the ground. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged rasp of his breath.

He lets his knees fall to the ground, thinking you would have enough mercy for him to give him a break. But he found himself with the tip of your blade resting gently under his chin. You tapped it twice.

“Up, Castellan” you demanded. He looked up at you.

Your eyes, sparkling with both victory and amusement, held him captive. Sweat and dust smudged your face, adding a primal beauty to your already breathtaking features.

A slow smile tugged at his lips, not of defeat, but of something deeper. He lifted up his hands. "Seems I underestimated the true power of Aphrodite's daughters" he rasped, his voice husky with exertion and something else – an undeniable desire.

“Hell yes you did!” one of your sisters replied, earning a few laughs from the rest of the campers.

The small crowd erupted in cheers once the battle was determined as won by you. Luke eventually got up, sword still under his chin. He was much taller than you, to which you had to lift your own head up to fully see his face.

The roar of the crowd faded into a distant hum as Luke only focused on the heavy pounding on his chest, sword dangerously still close. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a path past the flush blooming on his cheeks.

"And it seems that our little hero falls not just to skill, but also to some… irresistible charm" you purred, amusement tugging at your lips.

Luke grinned, a touch cocky, a touch breathless. "Perhaps," he conceded, voice husky with exertion. "But I wouldn't call it defeat” he cooed as you slowly put your sword down, placing it next to you. His gaze dropped, tracing a slow path down the curve of your sweat-kissed neck, lingering on the way your shirt clung to your form. Your exposed legs shined underneath the weak sun. The air crackled with unspoken desire, the playful banter now infused with something hotter, more primal.

"Besides," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "victors deserve their spoils, don't they?"

His words hung heavy, loaded with hidden meaning, a meaning only the two of you seemed to understand now. You felt a blush creep up your neck, surprised by the sudden shift in his usual way of being towards you. You knew he knew you flirted, that you did it with ease. But this was different. This was Luke Castellan, the stoic, the untouchable, and suddenly, he was playing your game.

"And what kind of spoils are you thinking of, big boy?" you countered, your voice barely a whisper.

Luke looked around, campers long gone, already going back to their own activities as soon as your tense situation ended.

He stepped in closer, the space between you shrinking to a charged silence. "Maybe,-" he rasped head down and still heavy breathing, "a dance with the warrior who disarmed me not just with her blade, but with her breathtaking distraction."

His eyes flickered down to your lips, the unspoken desire sparking a flame within you.

“Or maybe something a little more private, as you wish” he continued.

The world seemed to shrink to the heat emanating from your body, the intoxicating scent of wildflower and victory mingled with sweat. Your pulse quickened, a blush blooming on your cheeks.

You laughed in disbelief, smoothly placing your long hair on one side of your head, bright mane elegantly falling like a cascade without you even trying. "Bold proposition, handsome" you replied, voice barely a breath, still trying to catch it. The nickname twisted Luke’s guts, in a good way, might as well have woken up something else. "But maybe you should focus on winning a proper duel before demanding rewards"

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Challenge accepted, my lady” he whispered, stepping back and raising an eyebrow. "But know this; our next battle won't be fought with steel, but with wit, charm, and a touch of something… different"

You tilted your head to the side as he took his sword from the grass. "And this time, I won't underestimate an Aphrodite's daughter, or the power of warrior who knows how to play just as dirty as she fights"

This wasn't the playful banter you were used to, but you sure liked it. This was Luke Castellan, awakened, and the thrill of it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"We shall see, Luke" you countered, your voice husky with a newfound nervousness as you pronounced his name. "We shall see."

As you turned to address a new opponent on the field, the memory of his voice, hot and suggestive against your ear, lingered on your skin. This wasn’t what you started, this was a dance of unspoken desires fueled by sweat, steel, and the awakening of a forbidden hunger in the heart of Luke Castellan. And you, the daughter of Aphrodite, were ready to play.

He couldn't help but watch you go, his heart brimming with a newfound determination. He admired your skill, your wit, your beauty, and most of all, the way you made him feel – breathless, excited, and utterly captivated. Your golden figure disappeared into a new crowd of campers looking for someone else to fight.

This was about to be one of the best summers ever.

pt2 here <3

I’m so delulu over this man istg

Currently reading PJ 3rd book :) Had to retake my lecture after I watched the show

ALWAYS OPEN FOR REQUESTS! <3

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #aphrodite #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo smut #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines

[indecisivemuch]

Scandalous

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: The reveal of a scandalous detail about yours and Luke's relationship left you both flustered and everybody else gaping. Inspired by one line from So It Goes - Taylor Swift (fluff, established relationship).

Warning: allusions to sex, but no explicit details.

Word count: 2k

You and Luke have been going out for well over a year now. Yet, he never failed to make you feel like it would be an eternal honeymoon phase: whispers of sweet words about a lifetime’s worth of promises, delicate and sacred touches, looks filling in for unspoken words.

Loving Luke was as easy as having a daily routine - so natural and almost like a grounding thing from the life of a Demigod.

Currently, Luke was training with Percy. You were not too far away either, sparring with Clarisse. Despite the area being occupied by many other Demigods engaging in similar activities, Luke could not help but frequently glance over at you.

Luke has always been mesmerized by the way you combat, which he metaphorically compared to a ballerina. So precise, yet deadly. Every move was with intention and purpose. 

The way sweat glided down the side of your face, your cheeks flushed from fighting, eyes darting with strategy, heavy pants in between dodging and attacking your opponent, the smirk hinted on your face - all of it made Luke’s mind grow flustered. Somehow, he found everything you do attractive.

If he was honest, his mind seemed to be doing nothing lately but think of you, especially when you’re not beside him. The memories he has harvested over your time together only transformed his brain into a cinema, which constantly played montages of you. Every morning, he’d wake up from a dream about you to the sight of you in his arms - that is before he had to sneak out of your cabin back to his. You constantly occupy every cell in his mind, like an uncontainable virus spreading. Yet, for some reason, he was not scared. He welcomed this feeling with his whole arms wide open.

You broke eye contact with Clarisse to look at Luke. Almost instantly, your eyes melted into ones filled with adoration and his own eyes mirrored the same emotions - if not tenfold. 

You were absolutely enamored with how Luke looked at you. Even before dating each other, people have mentioned the eyes he was giving you. But being oblivious, you did not see what they were talking about. However, it all became clear when you started dating. You started noticing how he would look at you like you were a rare artwork he would most likely never see again or a shooting star - a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence kind of thing that left him in awe all the time. He would do it so endearingly as if it would help to absorb every detail of you and imprint them into his memory. His looks have always made you feel loved - like you were the only thing that mattered to him, as if he has not told you this verbally and through actions already. Usually, you’d feel slightly insecure if somebody was staring so intensely at you, but he did it in a way that made you feel like your flaws were created to be loved for. 

However, a gasp escaped your lips as Luke was showered by a wave of the ocean. Everybody else also drew their attention to the head of Hermes’ cabin and the newly claimed Poseidon kid.

When Luke looked back at Percy, he was faced with a sheepish grin.

“I had to get your attention somehow. I tried calling your name like ten times already,” Percy shrugged his shoulder with feigned innocence, but the glint of mischief told Luke that the kid was anything but feeling guilty about soaking him from head to toe. 

“Percy,” Luke groaned as he could feel the fabric of his clothes cling to his body. Percy bashfully chuckled and offered another sheepish look to the counselor who was meant to train him. 

The cool water did offer a temporary fix to the boiling summer heat. But mixing that with sweat, combat, and Luke's long-sleeved shirt underneath was disastrous. The Hermes boy sighed as he slowly took off the bright orange camp shirt. After struggling slightly, he managed to pull the shirt off from over his head. However, the gray shirt he was wearing underneath got pulled up more than slightly from the extra friction between wet fabrics, revealing the majority of his back to Percy and others. 

He did not think much of it until gasps - including yours - could be heard as this happened. Chris even whistled as he and everybody else spotted what Luke did not notice.

“What?” Luke asked as he pulled down his gray shirt and started wringing his camp t-shirt, trying to rid it from being as wet as possible. 

“Damn, did you get mauled by a minotaur or something?” Percy asked. 

Almost immediately, Luke paled at Percy’s words as he realized what the kid was talking about.

Indeed, as Luke’s gray shirt underneath got pulled up, which revealed the majority of his back, this had also put on display the scratches down his back left from nights that he spent with you. Some were evidently old and healing, as seen by how Luke’s skin was patching itself up and matching closer to his skin tone. Others were somewhat freshly red, while a few were like wounds being reopened. To make matters worse, they could spot the occasional crescent shape bruises that were indentations of your nails. 

Considering your guys’ relationship was not a secret, there was no room to deny it if somebody pointed fingers at you. You blushed as people now averted their eyes to you as if this was the most scandalous thing all year. Clarisse and Chris, on the other hand, were both smirking. 

The whole camp knew you were the one who left those scratches there, and you sincerely wish you could dig a hole to hide yourself from all the attention right now.

Luke’s eyes darted to you, and you offered him an awkward smile as your face grew a darker shade of red.

“No, seriously, dude, you gotta get it checked out at the infirmary. How did that even happen?” Percy only continued, somehow actually clueless about the cause of those marks. You could see Annabeth sending Percy a somewhat side-eye from nearby at his words while Grover let out a deep sigh. 

You started approaching the two, hoping you could intervene and save the both of you from this situation.

“Uhm…well,” Luke started, unsure how to even answer the kid or divert the attention elsewhere as his cheeks flushed and ears tinted pink from trying to ignore memories of what you two had done the night before.

The Hermes boy has jokingly sweet-talked you before on how he might walk out shirtless after one of your rendezvous to show off the marks you left on him. Never would you two think that that idea would ever happen like this.

“Yeah, I reckon you should get that checked out,” you decided to say as you reached Luke, settling your hand on Luke’s lower back and greeting Percy. “Thank you for worrying about him.”

“Yeah, no problem. I mean, it must have been quite a minotaur to land that much of a number on him,” Percy somehow carried on and was utterly oblivious to Clarisse and Chris, who almost bursted out laughing at his latest comment. You, on the other hand, squinted your eyes at the kid. You turned to Luke and you could see it in his eyes that the boy was on the verge of laughing as well. You were sure he would have done so if it were not for your glare.

“Well, we best go heal those wounds now, right Luke?” you gave your boyfriend a look, hoping he would get the message to play along.

“Right,” he agreed almost instantly. 

“Alright, bye, Percy,” you hastily spoke, before dragging Luke by his hand away from everybody's eyes.

“Bye guys,” you could hear the kid’s voice as the both of you retreated. It felt like a walk of shame as the semi-crowd parted ways for you two to leave the scene. You immediately let out a deep breath as soon as nobody was near anymore.

“Gods, that was so embarrassing. The kid basically repeatedly called me a minotaur.”

“I mean…you can be my minotaur?” Luke cheekily jested, trying to tease you a bit more over the situation.

“Oh, no, no, no, we’re not making that a thing. No, absolutely not are you ever gonna make that a nickname,” Luke only laughed at your reaction before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you into a hug. As he did so, you wrapped both your arms around his waist, face colliding with his chest the way it would usually do when you guys cuddle. He gave you a few peppered kisses on your forehead, close to your hairline. 

“They’re never gonna let us live that down, will they?” You asked after letting out a muffled groan against his chest.

“Nope,” Luke admitted. Despite the Hermes boy usually easing away your worries, even he knew this would be the talk around camp for a while. Nevertheless, he unwrapped his arms around you and cupped your face with both hands. Using his callus-filled hands, yet gentle touch, he soothed your furrowed eyebrows by rubbing over them to urge you from scowling.

“But…you know what? I’m kind of glad this happened. Sure, it might be awkward and a tad bit embarrassing. But now, they finally get to see how lucky I am to have been given a chance by such a gorgeous and sweet Demigod. And…” he paused, giving you a quick kiss. “This way, any guy potentially still after you know to keep their hands off.” He cheekily winked at you after saying so. 

Gods, you remember how jealous Luke would get before you were together. It was lowkey hot to see him so riled up. Though, after the both of you got together, you have always reassured him that you had eyes on him and only him. 

“I guess that also means any girls still thinking they could steal you from me would know they have no chance?” you questioned, smiling ear to ear when he nodded eagerly at your words.

“Exactly. That’s a win-win in my book. I’m not embarrassed they saw what you left on me. They could talk for all I care. So stop worrying, or else you’ll start getting wrinkles,” he lightly flicked the area between your furrowed eyebrows. As you were about to complain, he quickly kissed you right where he previously flicked you, and that immediately melted away any bit of feigned irritation you had with him. He chuckled at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows untangling itself.

“Thank you,” you muttered, showing your gratitude towards Luke. 

If Luke had a superpower, it would probably be calming you down. He has always managed to tame your emotions whenever they were drowning you. He was like an anchor to you, always grounded you during chaotic times. Sometimes, you wonder how you got so lucky. 

You peered up at him sweetly, and the look alone made him lean down to capture your lips with his again. You chuckled at his action and kissed him back with just as much passion as he was leaving on your lips. Your hands started playing with the hair close to the nape of his neck. He let out a content sigh while still showing your lips just how much he loved them and you. However, he abruptly pulled away before dropping a question. 

“Are we really going to the infirmary?” Luke hesitantly asked, bringing up your words from earlier. He watched as you gave him an amused look.

“What did you think?” As soon as his eyes met yours, he knew exactly what you wanted. He gave you a sheepish grin before the two of you quietly giggled to each other before walking further away from the training grounds.

Let's just say you two did not follow through with your words of going to the infirmary, and neither were you tending to his “wounds”.

——————————

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Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸

fighting chance; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader

synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.

warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3

notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!

You’re not much of a fighter.

That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Unless you’re a child of Ares.

People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.

Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.

There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.

The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.

He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.

He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.

The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.

“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.

“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”

“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.

You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.

He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”

“Confer?”

“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”

A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.

“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”

It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?

“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.

He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”

“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.

You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”

His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.

“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”

It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.

The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.

You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”

You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.

“All good?” He asks gently.

It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”

Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.

“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.

He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.

“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”

Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.

“And you’ve always got our flag.”

You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.

He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.

There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.

Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.

The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.

Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”

“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”

“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.

Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.

“Luke—”

“I’ll find her!”

He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.

He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.

It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.

“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”

The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.

“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.

You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”

“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”

The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.

Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.

You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.

The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.

“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”

Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.

Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.

Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.

The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.

Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.

And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.

“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.

The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.

“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”

“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”

“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.

“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”

“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.

“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”

It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.

The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”

Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. ���Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”

He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.

Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.

“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”

Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.

The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”

“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”

He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”

You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.

You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”

You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”

“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”

“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”

You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.

Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”

“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”

You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.

“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”

The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.

“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.

“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”

“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”

“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.

You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”

It makes you smile. “So second-best?”

“Tied for first.”

He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.

“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”

“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”

You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.

Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.

“Don’t care,” Luke says.

You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”

You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.

You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.

#perrie’s fics #perrie’s requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #charlie bushnell #luke castellan comfort #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fic #i kind of hate this i think I’M SORRY #but some parts of it are interesting so oh well #luke castellan you are fucking crazy.