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vauxxy · 5 months

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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

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murdrdocs · 4 months

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FOOLISH LOVERS. luke castellan

description. luke castellan has betrayed camp half blood. luke castellan has made an enemy out of those around you. and unfortunately, luke castellan has always held a place in your heart that you can't close off. at least, not until you meet with him one final time.

includes. SMUT 18+, fem!reader, daughter of hypnos reader, oral (f and m receiving), brief anal rimming (f receiving), implied p n v, dreamscape sex again, angst galore, some arguing, references to pjo ep 8. inspo from wicked game by chris isaak

wc: 5.8k+

a/n: a dreamcatcher: daughter of the god of dreams installment.

Before you can realize the change, you’re standing on a hill.

It takes you a second to notice, but the area is much like your dreamscape. Low, waving blades of grass that travel through the air with the wind brushing against your bare ankles. The ocean is loud and to your right, down beneath a steep cliff. From just a quick glance, you see a storm brewing off into the distance. The water swirls angrily as if it’s ready to disrupt anything that dares to come into its path.

You can’t help but think about the betrayed son of the sea god back in reality who surely feels the same.

When you take your eyes away from the entrancing scenery of the ocean, you notice a cabin directly in front of you. It’s small, and made from long wooden logs, although there isn’t a forest nearby to identify the source of the frame. The exterior is slightly shabby, appearing manmade with a few imperfections.

It’s not on a comparable scale to the cabins back at Camp Half-Blood, but something about it feels cozy. It gives implications of a simpler life. Maybe what summer camp could have been if you weren’t the offspring of a god.

That and the clouds rumbling with warnings of an approaching storm is what encourages you to seek refuge in the four walls.

Step by step, you don’t fail to notice how a focus subject has yet to appear.

Your hand wraps around the doorknob and you push the slab of wood open as you wonder who’s dream you could have been pulled into tonight.

You haven’t even stepped foot over the threshold, you have started to convince yourself that this is the dream of the son of the sea god, and then someone speaks.

“Hey.”

You stop.

Your foot hovers for a second before you place it back beside the other.

That voice. You hadn’t heard it for months now, but you know it. Day after day, you lay at night with your eyes closed, cementing the memory of the way he spoke and how he sounded as he laughed at your jokes into your mind. Forcing yourself to recall the inflections in his tone as he teased you, and how his words flattened out and got hard when he gave orders to yourself and others. And then, completely involuntarily, you would force yourself to pick through every single intonation and word that you could remember, attempting to find signs. Any hints or clues that Luke Castellan wasn’t the person he made himself out to be.

Each night, you grapple with the fact that you couldn’t find any clues. You tried to reconcile with your blindness, all while telling yourself that you could have attempted to prevent it all.

But hearing his voice now, none of that returns. Unexpectedly, your body floods with warmth.

Luke sits on a small loveseat. The shape of it is a bit of a blur at first, but you blink and it cleans up to present a busy patterned textile couch. It’s well loved, there are a few tears in the bottom of the fabric at the back, and if you’re smelling it correctly, there’s a slight waft of cigarette smoke.

Strangely enough, it’s inviting.

You hate to admit it to yourself, but the boy sitting at one end of it makes it even more inviting.

You step into the cabin and close the door behind you.

“Hey, Luke.”

He turns around to face you at the sound of your voice. You sound stronger than you expected. More casual, too.

You realize that he’d been looking out a large set of windows before facing you. There’s only two but they take up most of the small wall. Outside is a perfect view of the land you’d just come from; bright green grass in the foreground and deep blue salt water off into the distance.

Luke stares at you.

The cabin is a little dark—there’s a lamp in the far corner that illuminates the room, washing out the otherwise blue light from outside—but you think his eyes are shining. As if there’s unshed tears barely held within them.

He smiles at you. It’s soft and almost mournful.

You should leave.

You shouldn’t be fraternizing with Luke at all, even if it is within a dreamscape. You couldn’t trust yourself in a room with him, especially with the things the two of you used to do when you were in dreamscapes alone.

Just looking at him reminds you of all of those times. Sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. The feeling of his muscles beneath your inquisitive hands. The deep and smooth sound of his voice. The way everything felt so real and so tangible as he rocked into you, and then as euphoria swept over your bodies you felt so infinite and surreal.

Your teeth find your lower lip. Your body urges you to get closer to Luke. Stubbornly, you stay in your spot.

“What d’you think?” He lifts a finger and circles it around in the air. Your eyes lift and you finally take in the rest of the cabin.

The main room is spacious, but comfortable. Lightly furnished with hardwood floors. Though almost every surface is covered in some sort of rug, most of them persian. There’s a small kitchen to your left, and then the living area that Luke sits in on the right. There’s a few bookshelves but there aren’t many books on them, and there’s a fireplace that looks to have never been used before. A few picture frames sit on the mantle of the fireplace, but from afar they just appear to be showcasing blobs of people without any distinctive features to identify an identity.

Admittedly, for this to be the created dreamscape of the son of a messenger, it’s impressive.

You tell him as such.

This time, Luke’s smile is appreciative.

“Means a lot coming from you. Especially with the things you can create.”

Your skin heats up and you block the memories out of your head before they can firmly cement themselves once more.

“You might have me beat, Castellan. Giving me a run for my money.”

You don’t know why you decide to fall into the old routine with him. Maybe it’s because you can’t push Luke away for the life of you. He was once your friend and so much more at the same time. It’s impossible for you to completely forget the times you shared together.

Maybe it’s the home making you feel this way.

How comfortable it feels. How protective it is.

You’ve spent weeks pulled into unfortunate dreams. Nightmares have plagued even the toughest minds of Camp Half Blood as of late, and you’ve been unable to fortify your own mind enough to prevent slipping into the mind of others. Which has left you to fight against unbeatable monsters, fortify the barriers of Camp only to have them knocked down by Zeus over and over again, watch those you love die in horrible battles, and much much more.

In comparison, there is the possibility of a simple conversation with Luke Castellan giving you what you’d been desperately missing even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself: Luke’s company.

It’s how you reason with yourself whenever you take a seat atop the cushion of the couch. Instantly, it feels as if you’ve never truly known comfort before. This couch conforms to the curves of your body. You lean back against it, pull your feet up with you, and you quickly decide to stay a little while longer.

Up close, Luke looks even prettier than you remember. Dark curly hair a little more grown out, unruly and hanging over his forehead like low hanging fruit, begging for you to latch onto it. His face looks a little slimmer as if he’s lost weight, and the angular planes of his cheekbones and jawline accentuates the dark shadow he has along his chin. The mark of facial hair that was previously present. Beneath his clothes—a faded black, almost gray hoodie, and black sweatpants—he appears larger. His shoulders wider, his neck thicker, his wrist and hands veiner.

(Compared to his covered body, you feel bare in nothing but long socks, and a matching shorts and tank top set.)

He looks virtually the same, but his aura is different. There’s more confidence in him, a larger ego, glory even, that wasn’t there the last time you’d seen him. You know what has caused the change, and it should be something you despise. But his new glory makes him more attractive. It dries out your tongue and lodges something in your throat, pushing it further down until it sits heavy in your stomach.

“Thought this could be our new spot.” Luke speaks softly, almost in a scared whisper, as if he fears that you’ll reject him.

(You don’t know if you could ever reject Luke)

Your eyebrows furrow. “Our spot?” Confusion drips off of your words.

Luke nods once. He licks over his lips and you’re quick to peel your eyes away from the sight and back to his eyes. That’s not helping you much either so you instead try to figure out what books are on the shelves afar.

Since the little amount of time that has passed, there have been a few more added. From the ones that have already been there, the titles are too far away, too dream disoriented, and your dyslexia hasn’t escaped this dream, but you think you find novels on Seeing. Guides on how to decipher the visions that come to humans, or how to channel them.

You focus back on Luke.

“Yeah. Like the old bedroom. But a little more …” he hesitates to find the word then lands on, “Casual.”

The bedroom.

Your lower stomach stirs at the mention of it. The large bed, how warm it always was in there, the cold leather of the couch, the things the two of you did to each other on all surfaces.

This spot is definitely a lot more casual. You’re not instantly compelled to straddle Luke here, although you do have a few thoughts about throwing your legs over his right now and reconnecting in ways you’ve missed since he left.

So badly do you want to agree. This could be the one place where you get to experience what you’ve been missing without anyone else knowing. This is the only place where you can see Luke without anyone else knowing.

But it’s wrong.

He’s the cause of all of this. He’s caused the nightmares you’ve been pulled into. He has betrayed everyone on levels you could have never imagined. And who’s to say that he won’t betray you again.

“We won’t need a ‘spot’, Luke.” Briefly, his eyes flash as if he’s hurt but in your eyes, Luke has proven himself to be a formidable actor as of late so you ignore it. “This is a one time thing.”

A moment passes. And then another.

You turn to watch the sea out in the distance. It appears as if the ocean has lulled for the time being. The sky is still dark, but it has yet to deepen in color.

Luke takes a breath and you give him your attention again.

“Why won’t you join me?”

His eyes flash betrayal, his lips twist into something sorrowful.

Your answer comes easy. The same one you’ve told yourself over and over again, night by night when you considered reaching out to him.

“Because it’s not right, Luke.”

When he stands, his newfound power becomes even more clear. It leaks from his pores, spews from his mouth with his words.

“How could it be ‘wrong’ when you feel the same. All that time you spent telling me about your father. How neglected you felt. What happened to that?”

Your head shakes. You stand, too, evening out the field for both of you.

“This is not what I meant. I–” The words don’t find you. Luke takes notice.

“You what? Love your father? Love the gods? After how they treat you. How they treat us.”

“Don’t say ‘us’. We aren’t together, Luke.”

That same look flashes in his eyes once more. He takes a step forward, you take one back.

He doesn’t say anything. You watch his hand reach behind his back.

“What, are you gonna fight me like you did with Percy?”

His head shakes. His eyes harden. He pulls his hand back and it comes up empty.

“He attacked first.”

Your voice starts to rise. “And you tried to kill him, Luke. He’s twelve. What don’t you understand about that? ”

“Twelve and a forbidden child. In the grand scheme of things, his age doesn’t matter. He’s powerful. More powerful than both of us combined.”

“So is that why you tried to kill him? Because he’s a threat?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Not here. Not now.”

“Yeah? Well then when? And where? Because this is the last time you’ll be seeing me, Luke.”

“Okay.”

Your eyebrows raise. Disbelief paints over your features. You’d expected more of a fight. For Luke to disagree or attempt to convince you to return to him a few more times after this. Maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe you wanted him to convince you that you needed him. Maybe you wanted to hear him tell you that he needed you.

Either way, your reply is the same as his.

“Okay.” You turn and take the few steps it takes to get to the door.

Your chest heaves with large gulps of air in and small breaths of letting them out. Your body is buzzing, the same feeling you would get before sparring with Luke. The same feeling you would get before your bodies joined together.

You tell yourself to reach out for the door handle. You tell yourself to lift your arm, connect your hand with the metal, and pull it open. You tell yourself to return to your own dreamscape, maybe even reality, and forget any of this ever happened.

Maybe you would’ve done it if Luke hadn’t spoken.

“You can walk out that door but that won’t change how you truly feel.”

He doesn’t add on. You don’t move.

“And how do I feel?”

The adrenaline is overwhelming you. You need to expel it out of your body somehow.

As Luke is speaking, you’re already approaching him.

“I’m sure I don’t need to answer that for you.”

When he speaks, it’s with arrogance. His confidence is heavily laced in his words, overflowing until it drips out into the air and lodges in your chest. Running through your body and down to your fingertips. It annoys you, makes you want to battle it out with him in a fight you’re sure to lose.

Your feet thud against the floor with each step until you’re close enough to cup his cheeks in both of your hands and pull his face down to yours.

There’s no hesitation in the kiss from either side. As if both of you were expecting it to happen eventually.

Luke kisses you back vehemently, his lips messily sliding against yours as he presses into the center of your back, accentuating the curve and drawing your chest into his. His free hand glides down your side to your hips. He circles to your back, dragging his palm down to rest over the curve of your ass. He grips the flesh through the soft fabric of your shorts, digging his blunt nails in before continuing his hand—open palmed—down to grip the back of your thigh.

His other hand mirrors his previous actions until he has a hand on either thigh. He tugs once, and you collaborate to wrap your legs around his waist and hook your ankles behind his back. Your hands dig into his hair, and your core tightens as you prepare to continue holding yourself up. But Luke takes most of the load.

He places his hands on your bottom to keep you lifted. You expect him to walk you back to the couch, or maybe pin you to a wall. But he doesn’t.

He holds you against him in the center of the living room, kissing you like he’ll never get to kiss you again. You don’t fail to realize how he likely won’t.

His tongue slides against yours, your teeth knock together at least twice, both of you refuse to pull away to breathe which results in heavy exhales through your noses against the skin of the other cheek.

While it may be uncoordinated, it’s not primal.

There’s copious amounts of longing beneath each pass of your tongues against each other. There’s human emotion behind the way you tug on his hair and how he uses one hand to pull your hips closer to him. There’s raw longing in the soft sighs and gasps you both let out into the other’s mouth, taking it in and replicating the noises over and over again.

When you finally do part, it’s with a wet, pronounced smack.

“Luke,” you gasp his name before you can realize it’s happening. One of your hands moves from his hair to hold his cheek. Your fingers spread around his ear and your thumb probes into his jaw.

He hums, his eyes still shut.

“I want you,” you admit.

You watch the smile spread across his lips, his eyes flickering open to look into your soul.

“Took you long enough to admit it.”

You suck your teeth and roll your eyes. Your other hand, previously resting on his shoulder, slaps his bicep.

“Don’t be an asshole about it.”

He laughs as he apologizes, knocking his forehead against yours. “Sorry, pretty girl.”

He takes a moment.

When he speaks, his eyes are nothing but earnest. His words are slow and careful, despite how simple they are. They fill your chest with warmth. They comfort you, possibly in slight delusion as you instantly believe him without caring about what repercussions his promise could come with.

“You have me. Always have. Always will.”

You’re quick to surge forward.

Luke is quick to reciprocate.

This time, he walks you back to the couch. He settles you on it carefully, not lifting his hands from your bottom until you’re seated securely along the loveseat and pulled to the edge by his hands hooked under your knees.

His own knees dig into the rug beneath the furniture. His head is tipped up to continue kissing you, this one lacking the over enthusiasm from before. Now, he takes his time, having confessed his desire to be with you as long as you’ll let him.

It’s not long until he pulls away and trails his lips down, kissing along your decollete, not stopping when he comes in contact with the fabric of your small shirt. He presses his lips into the fabric firmly, as if he’s trying to reach your skin beneath the layer.

You feel the pressure he has beneath each kiss as he trails down, and you arch into his touch, excitement spreading through your lower half whenever Luke digs his fingers into the elastic of your shorts and pulls them off of your legs before he even reaches there.

You’re quick to leave your legs open, even going as far as to spread them a little more to give Luke more room.

His wide shoulders fill the space. They nudge against your knees and instead of letting you spread your legs even more, he throws them over his shoulders, effectively caging himself in with your limbs.

If the small smile on his face is anything to go by, he’s happy about his position.

You’re still wearing your panties. Your hands trail down to get rid of them, but Luke stops you with a hand on your lower abdomen.

“Let me,” he tells you, voice soft and light.

You remove your hands and do as told. It’s a simple system you have worked out, Luke slowly but surely working his way down to where you want him. He's eager, and you know he wants himself there as much as you do.

It’s strange what desire could make you do.

You’ve never been anything but loyal to Camp Half-Blood. To both of your parents. And in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t allow yourself to do this.

But you’ll simply have a final time with Luke. That’s it. Sharing your body with him, and having his body shared with you, won’t make you forget his transgressions.

As your panties are pulled off of your legs, and your skin is once again placed above the thick fabric on the shoulders of his sweatshirt, you tell yourself that this won’t change anything.

You’ll never be able to forget what he has done. What he’s planning to do.

Except, perhaps, you can push it aside for as long as you’ll have to while you let yourself get lost in his touch.

The first pass of his tongue is a long stripe between your folds. He spreads you open with his thumbs, pulling at the skin on either side to expose your center. Then he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your clit.

He puckers his lips, sucking twice before flicking his tongue against the bud.

Your hands card through his hair, ignoring the way your fingers get stuck on a few stubborn curls that refuse to separate in favor of grounding yourself. It feels too good, and you haven’t been in this position for too long. There’s nothing you fear more right now than getting too lost and waking up in the real world before you’re even satisfied.

Luke brings his attention back down to your entrance where he laps up what you’ve been leaking. He groans, peeling his mouth away and you stare down at him, entranced by how grateful he looks.

Eyes closed, face completely relaxed, his scar laid flat against his cheek, his pink lips parted and glistening.

He looks ethereal. The sight is addicting.

“Missed this so much,” he admits, tongue flickering out to lick the remnants of your arousal off of his lips.

You feel the same, but you refuse to tell him that. Instead, you scrape your nails at his scalp lightly and shuffle your hips, hoping that alone is enough to capture Luke’s attention again.

Either he catches the memo or he had the same idea as you because his lips are right back between your legs.

You’d expected him to behave like a man starved, licking and sucking your cunt like you would disappear any moment. Instead, he takes his time with you. He utilizes the best part about being in a dreamscape: the lack of concrete time.

He savors the taste of your cunt, and the little sounds you make. His fingers press into the tops of your thighs as he holds them down against his shoulders to prevent you from squirming. His nose nudges against your clit and digs into the short hair you have on your mound.

He presses his tongue everywhere that he can, sometimes even sliding further down to rim areas still unexplored. Each time, you would tense up just a little less, until eventually you were trying to subtly urge his head further down for him to do it just one more time.

And when he does, that’s when the coil in your lower belly gets as tight as it could get, just before snapping from the tension. You would have warned him. Or, maybe you did. You were so focused on getting there that any words that came out of your mouth weren’t even considered. You weren’t aware of anything other than your mouth moving at the same speed as your hips as you dragged your cunt against Luke’s face, using him to guide your orgasm to full completion.

As soon as your hips stop twitching you swing your legs off of his shoulders and slide to the floor beside him. You pull your shirt off, then do the same for Luke, throwing both of your tops off to the side.

Unsurprisingly, he’s not wearing another layer beneath the sweatshirt, allowing you to run your palms down his chest, feeling the familiar definition along his abdomen.

You sit in front of him with your legs folded underneath you, and since he’s on his haunches, he towers over you just a bit. You have to tilt your head up to kiss at his jaw and neck, your hands busying themselves with urging his sweatpants off of his hips.

Luke does the rest of the job for you, hesitantly pulling away from your touch to stand and slide his sweatpants off of his legs himself. You’re left on the ground, hands politely resting in your lap while you stare up at Luke with wide eyes.

He slowly reveals more and more of his legs until he’s wearing nothing but his briefs. They hug him well, like they always have. A prominent outline of the muscle definition in his thighs, elastic waistband hanging low enough on his hips for you to see the ‘V’ that connects his hips and abdomen. And of course, the tight material reveals the prominent boner confined within the crotch of his briefs.

You want to reach up and palm him. You want to pull the final layer off of him. You want to take his cock into your mouth and relax with the heavy and warm feeling of him against your tongue.

But you decide to be patient. And it’s worth it.

Luke slides his briefs off himself, never breaking eye contact with you as he throws them to join the rest of your clothing. His stare is strong and heavy as he spits into his hand and puts his dick into the same place, wrapping his palm around the center of it and stroking a few times.

There’s the prettiest, most picturesque bead of precum at the tip and you’re practically salivating just looking at it, praying deep down that Luke doesn’t run his hand over it so you can have it for yourself.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Luke takes a step closer, holding the base of his cock right in front of your face, allowing you to get the perfect view of how his tip is a light pink around the almost clear drop of precum.

“You want?” he asks you simply, smiling a bit when you nod eagerly. “Then open.”

You’re quick to do as told, lacking any shame whenever you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. As soon as Luke presses his tip to your muscle, you wrap your lips around him and eagerly suck him clean.

Another good thing about the dreamscape is that everything either tastes like absolutely nothing, or like pure honey. And when you’re with Luke, things are usually the latter.

You start to get lost in it, enthusiastically beginning to suck Luke off even though you were only meant to be getting a taste.

You can see that Luke is close to commenting on it. His eyes shine like they do before he has something to say, but just when his lips part and he takes a breath to speak, you hollow your cheeks and sink as far down him as you can and any words he could have conjured up are suddenly gone.

He lets you do what you want, eyes fluttering shut and one large hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to suck him off. He lets out the smallest noises, pretty grunts and groans and sighs.

Luke was clearly just as wound up as you were. Within a couple of minutes he’s already starting to spew out praises like he does when he’s close. Some of them are fragments, broken words strung together in incomplete sentences.

“So … doing so .. you’re–” when you swirl your tongue at the tip and tease his balls just a bit.

“Gods, you’re so good at this,” when you jerk the majority of his dick with one hand and focus your mouth on his tip with the other.

“Close. So close. Almost there, dove” when you take all of him into your mouth once more, throat molding around the definite shape of him.

And when he cums down your throat, you’re so satisfied that you can’t help but moan unabashedly along with him.

You’ve only just swallowed his cum before his cock is pulled out of your mouth and he’s back on his knees in front of you.

His arms wrap around your waist, he pulls you into his lap, laying his head on your chest and just letting himself be.

Just existing.

After a couple of minutes, you stop expecting him to speak and decide to just exist too. Your breathing eventually matches up, in and out, in and out, over and over again in tandem. Outside, rain starts to thud against the roof of the small home. Distantly, there’s the faint sound of thunder, and you’re sure the ocean is swirling angrily.

None of that matters, though. You’ll be left to decipher the metaphorical meanings of it all later, when you aren’t coexisting in the shared warmth from you and Luke.

When he isn’t kissing the tops of your breasts and holding you securely in his arms.

Eventually, Luke does break the silence. His voice is low when he does, both in volume and tone.

“Can I have you? Just one final time?”

He talks into your skin without looking directly at you. But as you start to respond, you cup his cheeks and force him to look at you.

The entire time, you’ve been fighting this battle. Knowing you wanted Luke, knowing you wanted to be with Luke, but also knowing it was wrong. All of it was wrong.

But right here, right now, you let go. You nod unashamedly. You kiss his forehead then the tip of his nose then his lips, before landing on the bottom end of his scar.

You tell him, “Yes. Of course, Luke”, as if he didn’t even have to ask in the first place.

And truthfully, you don’t think he did.

‎

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Luke is in the middle of pulling his sweatshirt back over his head when you speak. There’s a second where the fabric is hiding his face, slowly revealing the curls at the top of his head, then his dark eyebrows, and finally his eyes. They look as they have the entire time: despondent.

“I know you didn’t. Neither did I.” You have a feeling that neither of you are speaking about the same specific thing, but the overlap in your conditions is so wide that you don’t bother correcting him.

He reaches behind his back once more and when he pulls his hand back around, he has his camp necklace dangling from his fingers. He undoes the knot, and holds it open, waiting, until finally you turn around and let him delicately tie it around your neck.

Your hand touches the beads. You want to thank him, but it doesn’t feel right.

Instead, your lips twist into what you hope comes off as a thankful smile when you turn around. When Luke replicates it, you feel a little better.

There’s a moment, just a brief moment there where you’re both staring at each other and the memory of Luke’s hands and lips and tongue and his everything engrossing you, taking your everything and combining them together, is still fresh on your mind. The warmth of his eyes and the warmth of his camp necklace around your throat heals you. And you consider that your feelings for Luke were stronger than you ever forced yourself to acknowledge.

He was more than a close friend to you. More than someone you looked up to. More than someone you shared your body with in the dreamscape.

He was more.

It feels unfair for you to have these emotions. The wrongness of it all—your feelings for Luke Castellan, how he’d turned out—has rage fueling deep in your gut. With no one else to blame it on, you can’t help but briefly curse the gods.

For they were the ones to cause this. To instill deep hatred into Luke’s chest. To prevent either of you from ever having a normal life where you could live and breathe and love without the burdens placed upon you both.

A life where you wouldn’t have to love and lose someone like Luke.

But there’s nothing for you to do about it now.

You don’t want to leave. But your time together is up. You should’ve left a long time ago, and your choice to stay before resulted in something you could never take back.

You turn and walk to the door. And once more, Luke speaking causes you to stop.

“You are the only one who could make me change my mind.” He says it in a small whisper, as if he doesn’t want to admit it even to himself. As if he shouldn’t be admitting it at all.

‘Are’. His feelings for you still haven’t changed. You don’t know if they ever will.

Either way, you’re forced to change yours.

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything. Your hand reaches for the doorknob. You take it in your palm, gripping and turning at the same time until the latch is undone.

The door opens and fills the room with the sound of rain falling. It’s loud and fills the empty space. Up until Luke speaks and the baritone of his voice joins it.

“This is it?”

You nod once. Luke’s scoff sounds painful. It’s bitter with an edge of hatred. Maybe disbelief.

It makes tears brim at your eyes. Your nose stings. Your throat feels as if it’s constricting with the effort to hold your tears back.

Luke takes a breath. You step one foot out of the door.

“Dreamcatcher,” he calls to get your attention, the nickname giving you that fuzzy feeling you used to get from just seeing him around camp. “We’ll be seeing each other again.”

And then your foot lands on the dry green grass of your own dreamscape.

Just a few hours later, you rise with the morning sun, sneaking off to the showers before everyone else to get rid of the stickiness between your thighs.

The dream might not have been real, but the evidence between your legs certainly was. Strangely enough, that and the additional chord of beads around your neck. You only notice it when you’ve undressed and stepped beneath the shower head, scrubbing at your skin and running into additional jewelry you hadn’t expected to have been there.

You take it off and slip it with the rest of your clothes as a keepsake, carrying it around in your pocket for only you to know about.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo

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sovksluv · 4 months

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sleepy girl

𖤐 . pairing - Luke Castellan x fem!Hypnos!reader

𖤐 . summary - hii!! how are you???? this is my first time doing a request, so i'm a little nervous :) could you please do a luke castellan x daughter of Hypnos!reader? with lots of fluff, please!! thank you <33

𖤐 . content includes - one of the Stoll brothers (idk who, yall can pick), sleepy reader, readers race not specified

𖤐 . word count - 545 (sorry it’s short :( )

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303

𖤐 . a/n - i just asked siri to pick a number 1-23 (AHHHHHH TYSMMMMM FOR 23 ASKS) and this is what she picked

the bright light peeking through windows and the bustling noise of Hermes cabin did nothing to help wake you up. the fact that you still slept so peacefully, despite all the ruckus, left Luke questioning if you were alive or not. you were, the soft rise and fall of your chest while you slept assured that.

Luke kneeled beside your bed, trying to figure the best way to wake you up. or any way to wake you up. it was almost two pm and here you were, sleeping without a single sigh or stir. “yo, Castellan! ya’girl dead or something?” a loud voice called from behind him. Luke scoffed, he could tell it was one of the Stolls, but ultimately chose to ignore him.

he watched as you softly snored, eyes fluttering. you were deep in a dream, a soft smile forming on your lips as it continued. the very subject of your dream was sitting in front of you, desperate to wake you, not wanting you to miss all three of your meals.

his calloused fingers delicately brushed your hair from your face. he cooed your name softly, continuing to lure you from your dreamstate. Luke left gentle kisses on both your forehead and your cheek, still coaxing you back to the present with his sweet words.

you sighed in your sleep, half awake. Luke smirked to himself, still running his fingers through your hair. “time to wake up, baby,” he whispered, “you’ve already missed two meals.” his calming chuckle sounded right into your ears.

your eyes fought to open – just a little, though. the bright sunlight burned, causing your eyes to slam shut, and your arm to fling over them, almost hitting Luke right in the face. he laughed as you whined, your whine morphing into a yawn half way through. “hi sweet girl, did ya’ sleep good?”

you muttered out a ‘mhm,’ hesitantly uncovering your eyes. when you finally allowed your eyes to adjust, you were met with the kind eyes of your sweet boyfriend. a precious smile engulfed your lips as you stared up at him. he mimicked your smile, fingers still softly brushing through your hair.

“hi, Lukey,” you mumbled, yawning once again, drowsily blinking up at Luke. “hi, baby, what time did you go to bed last night?” he questioned, you took a moment to think before answering him. “8:30,” you mumbled sweetly.

Luke laughed, you’d almost slept a full twenty-four hours, and you would have if it wasn’t for him. he helped you sit up, chuckling to himself at the sheet marks on your arms and your flushed cheeks. all signs of a good night's rest.

he stood up from his spot on the floor, holding out his hand to you to help you up. you gratefully took his hand, standing up and leaning into him. his strong arms wrapped around you, warming you up. it almost made you fall asleep right there.

before you did, though, Luke spoke. “come on, sleepy girl, let’s go get you something to eat, yeah?” he used his fingers to tilt your head up to look at him, waiting for your nod of agreement. you nodded, letting him help you put on your slippers and leading you out of the cabin.

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targaryenluvs · 5 months

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Hey can i request a Luke Castellan x girlfriend reader that is the daughter of Hypnos so is obviously she is always sleeping or fall asleep in random places and everyone loved her despite that fact about her and the fact that they rarely saw her because she either sleeping or falling asleep.

sleeping beauty,, luke castellan

contains — fluff, attentive luke, kisses, short blurb

it’s not as if you meant to fall asleep so often, you obviously couldn’t help yourself. at first you’d worried of how people would react, what if they laughed? what if they endangered you when you did fall under? but soon enough your sweet self was seen as refreshing and welcomed. if a camper hadn’t already known about your parentage and condition then they’d soon realise.

one of your boyfriend luke’s favourite moments, were when a new camper would see you fall asleep for the first time. the amount of concern and anxiety riddled over the poor kids face as the poked at you. only a few times had you truly scared someone.

you’d been by the campfire with everyone else, sitting right by luke as you enjoyed your night. you hadn’t slept in like usual, for some reason. but you’d figured it would be better to indulge and savour your time awake, a whole day without nodding off!

“i’m proud of you for it.” luke whispered into your ear, simultaneously twirling both of your marshmallows over the fire. you smiled up at him, kissing his temple, “thank you! i have no clue why, but i’m not complaining.” luke smiled, “i like you when you’re awake and asleep. you always look so peaceful, like sleeping beauty.”

you audibly gasped at the comparison, “that’s so sweet! thank you! hey, how do you know sleeping beauty?” of course you’d gotten compliments before but luke’s seemed to take the breath out of your lungs, he always had the nicest things to say. “just because i’ve been here for a while, doesn’t mean i’m uncultured.” luke shrugged, looking back to the fire. he looked amazing, a warm glow about him from the fire, his eyebrows were knitted together in focus. non-burnt marshmallows were at the top priority as of now. and words weren’t exactly coming easily to you right now, so you opted for the best way to a man’s heart, his stomach of course. “i think i’m going to get more chocolates, specially for you, since i’m so amazing.”

you dusted yourself off, but not before being pulled back down by luke and his lips meeting yours. you smiled into the kiss, you could taste the precious chocolate. “you taste as good as you look.” luke placed his hand over his chest, “my girlfriends a cannibal, who knew?”

you’d waved to him as you ran into his cabin, your bag neatly placed on his bed. your feet were aching so you figured sitting and sorting through it would be better. but as you laid down on the bed, you were overwhelmed with lethargy. mixed in with the familiar scent of your own boyfriend, his bed seemed to be calling your name.

just a second, just a minute.

luke’s hand trailed over your nose, as if committing your face to memory, it tickled. “lu?” you squinted at the sunlight, even with the warmth, you felt as if something was missing. “sleep well beauty?” for a second you thought he was teasing you, but as he turned back to you with your morning juice and breakfast, you couldn’t help but smile.

how on earth did you get so lucky?

#luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson imagine #percy jackon and the olympians

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livlaughloveluke · 3 months

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𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐲- 𝐥.𝐜 🐡

daughter of hypnos! reader x luke castellan 💤

headcannons in which luke is dating the sleepiest girl around💘

“and i know you’ve been having nightmares lately, and i’m sorry i fall asleep first” -faye webster

he totally calls you “sleepy.”

it started off when he was a dumb teen, just him being an idiot and teasing everyone. but i mean, the name wasn’t exactly incorrect. and so it stuck, carrying along as you grew into a young adult and began dating !

he’s such a sweetheart when it comes to you. while he gently yells at the campers for their lack of effort, he would never even think about raising his voice when speaking to you. even if you skipped training because you “needed to rest.” (you had slept a full ten hours before)

but when you did show up for archery or sword fighting, he’s over the moon, showering you with praise.

“that was amazing!”

“you did so good today, sleepy.”

(you shot two arrows and then dipped)

nightly stargazing!!

you and luke spend hours laying on top the grassy hill, staring above at the twinkling stars. you pointed out all the constellations, and luke would point to a star and say it was yours.

“thats our star, babe.”

“luke that’s part of the orion.”

he would sneak into your cabin on his restless nights, and you would comb your fingers through his hair to send him into a deep sleep. and you made sure all he had sweet dreams instead of his haunting nightmares.

reading him stories all the time !

he hates reading, since all of the words get scrambled and it hurts his brain to put the letters back together. but when chiron adjusts the temperature so it would rain and water the strawberry fields, there wasn’t many indoor activities to do. so, you let him pick a book you could read together on those rainy days.

after a week visit to your home, you brought back your record player and some of your favorite vinyls, and luke was absolutely fascinated. he never really listened to music before, so hearing such majestic sounds was a new experience. now every time you travel back into the world, he requests a new album. he’ll listen to it on repeat until you’ve acquired a different record.

you would share abstract stories about monsters, greek heros, and other intriguing topics to the campers around the bonfire, while luke stared with hearts in his eyes. he like to think that one day, hundreds of years from now, a camper would be reciting a story about you and him. the daughter of hypnos and the son of hermes, two children who were the closest depiction of soulmates ever known.

secret weekly sleepovers in cabin 15 were a necessity !

he always showed up with a bouquet of wildflowers, and one small yellow daisy for each of your siblings.

all of your brothers and sisters loved him, constantly dragging him into family board game night.

similar to stargazing, watching for clouds !

when you had free time, you were constantly laying in the dry fields and staring up above at the clouds, trying to picture them as objects.

“it’s a cowboy hat!”

“that’s clearly a toad in a sailboat.”

#luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #liv’s writing !#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan headcanons #pjo #percy jackson

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sluttywonwoo · 11 days

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hypnos

hypnos, the personification of sleep in greek myth. according to legend, he was promised the hand in marriage of hera's daughter, pasithea, in exchange for a favor...

pairing: vernon chwe x f reader

summary: most nights your husband sleeps peacefully beside you, but lately his dreams have made him restless.

warnings: swearing, arranged marriage, mommy issues, angst, alcohol, family planning discussions (no actual pregnancy!), smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: slight somno (wet dreams), handjob, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, sub!vernon ok kind of switch!vernon, mentions of pegging

word count: 4k

for @fuckvernon (happy birthday rat)

You have long sworn that the worst day of your life was the day you got married. Tears rolling down your otherwise impassive face as you stared at your equally expressionless fiance from across the altar. A stranger, practically, save for a few cordial business-like meetings between the two of your families.

You don’t remember what it felt like to kiss him that day, only the taste of salt from your own tears shared between you.

Now, your husband sleeps soundly beside you in the bed that you share. It was one of the stipulations of your marriage contract, one that he had insisted on. You didn’t question it at the time but you’ve always wondered why he was so adamant about it. You did have a lot of staff working around the house during the day but they always went home before either of you turned in for the night. It wasn’t like you had to keep up appearances then.

You’ve gotten used to it, at least. Sharing a bed with a stranger wasn’t as difficult now that he wasn’t a stranger anymore. A year had passed since the day you were wed— though it felt like thirty— and while you weren’t lovers, you were partners. Somewhat.

You understood each other, connected by the inseverable thread of your fates. Trapped together by your circumstances. It was simultaneously comforting and undeniably lonely.

The worst was when you would come back from events where you had to play up your relationship. Spending the evening arm in arm or holding hands, pretending to be devoted spouses to each other, only to drop the act as soon as you were back in the car.

You weren’t sure if Vernon felt the same way. He was so hard to read. The only time you were sure you knew exactly what he was feeling was on your wedding day, when he pulled you aside beforehand and whispered, “I’m sorry,” in your ear.

You knew he hadn’t wanted this either. It wasn’t fair to hold any of it against him, and yet a small part of you did.

You’ve clung to that resentment like a life preserver, afraid to let go and drown in feelings that threaten to overtake you. Resentment you can control. It protects you from what you can’t, like the growing fondness for your husband you’ve been trying to push down for a while now.

You tried your best to be indifferent to him, neither antagonistic nor overly amicable but the nagging thoughts in the back of your mind have been getting harder to ignore.

Tonight was the most challenging night yet. A charity dinner for one of your mother’s philanthropic endeavors, one she insisted ‘required your attendance’ despite your protests. You showed up as promised, only to be yanked into a dozen different conversations with your parents' friends.

Vernon was a good sport, as always. He was a natural at these things. His effortless charm had all of the ladies in your mother’s church group hanging on to his every word, all of their husbands laughing at his corny jokes. You tried your best to participate to take some of the pressure off of him and get your parents off your back but you mostly stuck to nursing your flute of champagne while he did the talking. You didn’t even like champagne.

The food was decent, at least, though you hardly got to enjoy any of it before your mother was pulling you into yet another discussion with a group of women from the board.

You chatted with them cordially, talking in circles about nothing until one of the board members dropped the reason they had actually dragged you over there.

“So, when are these two going to make you a grandmother?” she asked your mother, even though the question was obviously directed at you.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment but Vernon squeezed your hand in reassurance. You prepared yourself to give the typical we’re not in a rush answer you always gave but your husband beat you to the punch.

“We’ve actually started trying,” he said casually, slipping the hand that wasn’t holding yours into the pocket of his slacks.

Your mother’s eyes lit up and her friends gasped in delight. Interesting reactions considering your husband had all but just told everyone he was hitting it raw every single night.

You had to act like this wasn’t also news to you and smile and nod very calmly even though you suddenly felt very sweaty all over.

“That’s wonderful!” another one of the women exclaimed. “You must be so excited,” she said to your mother.

“This is news to me, too,” she laughed. You were surprised that she was admitting to the lack of knowledge but maybe it was because Vernon would also know she was lying. “But yes, this is very exciting.”

She then reached forward and plucked your half-finished flute of champagne from your hands, chiding you that “you should know better”.

“Mom, I’m not pregnant now,” you groaned.

“You never know!”

But you did know. There was absolutely no way you were pregnant unless you were some kind of scientific mirable or the second coming of Mary herself.

Children had never been part of the marriage contract, thankfully. Both sets of your parents knew what the contract was- a business deal and nothing more. They were gracious enough not to burden you further with the requirement of an “heir”. You and Vernon both knew it was an unspoken expectation but neither of you were intent on fulfilling it, at least that’s what you thought.

The rest of the evening was spent talking about babies. One of the board members even recommended you to her OBGYN and made you write down her number. Vernon engaged animatedly with all of it, perfectly sliding into his new role of dad-to-be while you could hardly muster up the strength to fake a smile.

He was quiet on the ride home, driving silently down the highway with both hands on the wheel, not so much as looking at you. He didn’t offer any explanation for the curve ball he’d pitched right at the back of your head other than, “it’ll get them off our backs”.

You had so many more questions you wanted to ask. Had he changed his mind about the kids thing? Did he want to take your relationship... there? You had only kissed him a handful of times, always in the presence of other people in order to sell your marriage. Behind closed doors, your romance was nonexistent. You shared a bed because that was outlined in the contract you signed but that was it.

Whether or not you wanted more from him was irrelevant.

Vernon was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow but you were still up, thinking over every interaction from the night. You usually didn’t let yourself read into things because you were trying to keep yourself from falling down delusional rabbit holes but after tonight you couldn’t stop yourself from overanalyzing all of the things you always did your best to overlook.

You tried to distract yourself with a book you were reading but you couldn’t get a paragraph in before the words began to blur together on the page as your thoughts consumed you again.

You gave up half an hour ago and are now just staring at the ceiling, tracing the shadows created by the shade of the lamp on your bedside table with your gaze.

You heave a sigh and roll over to turn it off, only to be stopped by the sound of your husband stirring beside you. You freeze, afraid your movement disturbed him, but when you glance over your shoulder you find that he’s still asleep.

You wait a few more seconds before reaching for the light again, just to make sure he’s well and truly out, but this time he mumbles something out loud, causing you to turn over the other way to see if he’s trying to get your attention.

His eyes are closed but his breathing is ragged and uneven. He must be dreaming, you realize. This happens sometimes, when he’s especially tired or stressed out. He’ll talk in his sleep or toss and turn like he can’t get comfortable even though he’s totally unconscious. He always seems so distressed by them that you’ve assumed the dreams are nightmares.

You get torn over whether or not to wake him when they happen. The few times you have intervened he seemed grateful that you had but sometimes the dreams seem to stop on their own. His breathing will go back to normal, the crinkle between his brows will smooth out, and you’ll both sleep through the rest of the night peacefully.

You’re equally indecisive now. He shouldn’t have to suffer like that just because you’re too scared to wake him up, though, so you resolve to just bite the bullet and nudge him awake.

You suck in a breath and reach for your husband across the mattress, stopping short when he whimpers your name.

You’re frozen again but for an entirely different reason now. His sleeptalking wasn’t usually anything comprehensible, let alone your name. You stay like that for a few seconds, waiting to see if he’d say it again or if you had maybe misheard him.

To your surprise, he does say it again, this time followed by, “fuck”. Figures you’d be in his nightmares too.

“Vernon,” you hiss, jostling his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Vernon, wake up.”

Your husband groans and blinks slowly, squinting in an attempt to make out your features.

“What is it?”

“You were having a bad dream,” you explain.

“Oh, th-thanks.”

“Are you okay? It seemed pretty intense.”

“I’m okay,” he assures you, swallowing harshly. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. I haven’t been able to fall asleep.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Do you want some water or something?” you ask, taking in his appearance. Now that he’s alert and awake you can see just how disheveled he looks. He’s still panting hard and his cheeks are flushed and his bangs are sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat. He looks like you do at the end of a pilates class, not like a man who had just woken up.

“No, I’m alright, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Silence lapses between you, then your curiosity gets the better of you.

“What was it about?”

“What? What was what about?”

You stare at him. “Your nightmare.”

“It wasn’t a-anything important,” he stutters.

“That’s not what it sounded like.”

Vernon blinks. “What do you mean? What did I say?”

“You, um, called my name. A couple of times.”

He takes a moment to process what you’ve said and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I know it isn’t your fault.” He looks pained. “I just wanted to know why you were having a nightmare about me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Vernon.”

“I wasn’t!” he insists.

“Lying to my mother’s friends might be second nature to you by now but you know that won’t work on me.”

“I’m not lying. It wasn’t a nightmare.”

“You expect me to believe that? You’re still all sweaty.”

“You just have to trust me,” he pleads.

“Why won’t you tell me what I was doing in your dream? I promise I won’t be upset.” Well, now you’re the one lying but he’s being so cagey about it that you feel like you have to get to the bottom of whatever it is that he’s hiding.

“You’ll look at me differently,” he groans.

“No, I won’t.”

“You will.”

“You’re really not going to tell me?” He doesn’t answer. “Fine.”

“Hold on, what are you doing? Where are you going?” he asks, watching as you sit up and grab your pillow from behind you.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room,” you mutter.

You’d be breaking that stupid fucking clause in your contract if you did but you didn’t care. You’d pay whatever the fine was, you just couldn’t stand to be in the same bed as him for another moment.

“Wait, don’t get up-” Vernon tries but it’s too late.

You had gotten up anyway and pulled the covers back in the process, revealing the real reason your husband wouldn’t tell you what he was dreaming about.

“Oh,” is what you say. It’s all you can say.

He tries to cover himself with his hands but you’ve already seen.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.

“So it was that kind of dream...” you muse, mostly to yourself.

He nods miserably. “Yeah... it was.”

“Are they always?”

“Are you really going to make me answer that?”

You drop your pillow back onto the bed and sit at its edge. Vernon peeks up at you, shying away when you lean closer.

“Will you tell me what it was about now?”

He balks. “What? You still want to know?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“You’re going to think I’m a huge pervert,” he sighs. “If you don’t already.”

“Come on, you owe this to me.”

Even the tips of his ears are pink now. “It was... you know, it was about normal husband and wife stuff.”

“What is normal husband and wife stuff?”

Vernon whines. “You know what it is.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to disrespect you like that.”

“Why would that disrespect me? I’m your wife aren’t I?”

He gulps. “You... really want to know?”

“I do.”

“You were... touching me.”

“Touching you how? Like this?” You lay your hand over his, the warmth of your palm making him shiver.

“N-no.”

“Show me,” you murmur.

“Are you sure?”

“Only if you want to.”

He places his other hand over yours and guides it to his lap, pressing firm over the material of his pajama pants. You’re surprised to feel that the fabric is a little damp, already soaked through with precum.

Vernon’s breath hitches as you stroke him experimentally over his pants. He’s bigger than you expected, thicker at least. You were always... curious about that. Thought about it one too many times late at night after your husband had gone to bed early. And you still tried to delude yourself about being indifferent towards him.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he whispers.

“Is this what you were dreaming about?” you ask.

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean?”

“It started like this.”

“And then what happened?”

He whimpers in embarrassment again but you don’t let up, gripping him even harder. “We were kissing.”

“And?”

“And you started taking your clothes off.”

You let go of your husband’s cock and take hold of the hem of your sleep shirt, preparing to lift it over your head.

“Wait, can I do it?”

“Is that how it went in your dream?”

“N-no...”

“Maybe next time, then.”

Vernon’s eyes grow even wider. “There’s going to be a next time?”

You almost scoff at him. As if you were ever going to let go of him now that you had him.

He watches, mesmerized, as you take off your shirt and wiggle out of your shorts. You leave your underwear on, though, not wanting to expose yourself completely while he is still fully dressed.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking hot,” he whines. “It’s so unfair- don’t laugh!”

You purse your lips together to try and stifle said laughter. “Sorry, sorry. I just didn’t expect you to be like this.”

“Like what?”

So pathetic, is what immediately comes to mind.

“So cute,” is what you actually say to him.

He pouts. “I’m not usually this... needy,” he insists.

You have trouble believing that but you don’t argue. Only time will tell, you suppose.

“Can I touch you?” he asks before you can say anything in response.

He’s been staring at your tits since you took your shirt off. You’re tempted to tease him a little more but you’re also just as desperate to feel him so you nod.

He scrambles to his knees and leans forward, nearly falling flat on his face in the process. You expect him to go right for your boobs but he touches your shoulders first. He’s gentle, running his thumbs across your collarbones and then up the column of your neck before finally tucking your hair behind your ear.

Then he moves lower, tracing invisible lines down your chest to your nipples, gasping quietly when he finds that they’re hard under his palms.

“Vernon?”

His head snaps up to look at you. “Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

You’ll never forget what it feels like to kiss him after tonight. He puts one hand on the back of your head and pulls you into him, kissing you with all of the desire and longing and painful anticipation he’s held on to for so many months.

You catch his bottom lip between your teeth and tug, relishing in the gasp he lets out in return. You only draw back when he starts to mumble incoherently into your mouth, and it’s reluctant. You want to keep kissing him, but you also figure what he’s saying might be important.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he rasps. “So long.”

“I know,” you sigh. “All those dreams...”

“It’s not just the dreams.” You want to ask him to elaborate but he’s rambling again before you can. “Can I eat you out? Please, can I taste you, baby?”

He’s never called you that behind closed doors before. It takes you aback. “I-”

“Please? Let me make it up to you. Let me make it all up to you, I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Okay,” you agree meekly.

“Here, lay down. Yeah, lay down just like that.”

He’s frantic for it, hurrying to get between your legs as you spread them for him. He helps you get your panties off and starts to kiss his way up your thighs, the heat of his lips searing and fervent. He stops just before he reaches your pussy and lifts his gaze to meet your eyes.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

You nod. “I’m sure.”

Just like when he kissed you, he’s gentle at first as he laves his tongue over you. He takes his time, showing more restraint than you were expecting while he explores you.

“Taste so sweet,” he mumbles and the vibrations from his voice make you moan and thread your fingers through his hair so that you can push his face even further into you. He goes until he has to come up for air, and when he does, he’s literally dripping with you. “Spent so many nights thinking about the way you’d taste,” he gasps, “telling myself I’d never get to find out.”

“Is it as good as you hoped?” you ask.

“You have to let me do this to you every night,” he says before burying his tongue in you again.

It’s not an answer, not really, but you can tell he’s already a little pussydrunk and therefore a little stupid. He’s been grinding against the mattress the entire time he’s been giving you head, working himself up just as much as you. But you don’t want him to cum until he’s fucked you so you tug at his hair to get his attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just want you to fuck me.”

“For real?”

“Yes, for real. Is that not part of your dreams?”

“It-it is.”

“Come on, then.”

You watch him start to unbutton his pajama shirt, trying to commit every frame of him to memory so that you could replay the scene in your mind whenever you missed him. Once his shirt’s off, he reaches for the waistband of his pants but stops suddenly as something dawns on him.

“I don’t have any condoms.”

“None?”

“Listen, it’s not like either of us have been getting laid.”

It’s true. Even though your marriage up until this point had only been on paper, you and Vernon had both agreed to include an infidelity clause in your contracts. You weren’t allowed to sleep with anyone but your husband which had made you think you’d either be celibate for the rest of your life or only add a notch to your bedpost when your families finally wore you both down about kids.

“You can just pull out,” you tell him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, my best friend says she and her husband do that all the time.”

“Well, now I can never look at Jeon Wonwoo the same ever again so thanks for that.”

“Vernon,” you whine, “are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Right, sorry.”

Your husband climbs on top of you, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he lines himself up.

“You’re sure you’re okay with me pulling out? I can get condoms first thing in the morning and-”

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “I trust you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and pushes inside of you. “Fuck, I lo-”

He catches himself, eyes wide. You can’t even say anything because he starts fucking you before you can process what he almost said, purposefully distracting you. He’s using his dick against you which is frankly unfair.

But you can’t be too mad about it either because it feels so fucking good. It’s also intense, though. His cock is a lot bigger than your fingers and it’s been a long time since anything but those had been inside of you so need a little longer to adjust to the stretch.

“Slow, slower,” you plead.

He slows down immediately and lowers himself to kiss you. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it feels good, you’re just really goddamn thick and I need a minute.”

Vernon laughs, which does nothing to help your predicament. “Take all the time you need.”

When you finally do get used to the feeling, and you finally convince Vernon that you’ve recovered (you have to repeat yourself four times), it’s like you’ve broken a spell. Your husband turns into your lover in the blink of an eye.

“God damn it, you’re perfect. How is everything about you so perfect,” he murmurs. “Perfect fucking wife... wasted so much time...” You want to tell him that you can make up for it now, that you have years- your whole lives to make up for it, but the words won’t come. “Shit I’m close, are you close?”

You nod, trying your best to verbalize a response. What you end up saying is nonsensical but Vernon seems to understand it because he keeps going, keeps hitting that spot that’s making you gush all over him until you’re tearing up and sobbing out his name as you cum around him.

He holds on just long enough to fuck you through your orgasm before he pulls out and gives in to his own, cumming all over your tummy with little to no aim. The sight is so pretty you think you could cum again untouched just from watching him.

He collapses beside you in a breathless heap. “I’m s-sorry I should’ve asked where you wanted it.”

“I don’t think I could’ve given you an answer anyway.”

“And I’m sorry that was so short, I usually last longer-”

“Stop apologizing! It was amazing.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll clean you up,” he promises, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just give me a second.”

You lie there in silence together for a few moments as you wait to regain feeling in your fingers and toes. You have so much to talk about now, but all you can manage to ask is, “so, is that is how all your dreams go?”

Vernon snorts and shakes his head in disbelief.

“I told you, I’m curious!”

“S-sometimes you’re the one fucking me,” he admits shakily.

“Like, I’m the one on top?”

Vernon winces. “Not exactly...”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“We can make that happen.”

He lights up. “Really? That’s something you’d be into?”

“I’m into anything you’re into.”

“God, you really are perfect.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!! and happy (belated) birthday <3 i hope you loved this lil present

#seventeen smut #svt smut #vernon smut #vernon x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #vernon chwe smut #vernon x female reader

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slu7formen · 28 days

Note

But imagine homewrecker!Luke x fem Aphrodite!reader, where reader’s already in a relationship but Luke just wants her sooo bad, so he flirts with her when no ones looking, teases her, and absolute shits on the man shes’s with in every opportunity he gets (there’s a scene from Avatar legend of Korra where she says to Mako “yeah, but when you’re with her you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” And I can see him saying the same thing to her while giving her the most devius smirk EVER) she’s only “human” so she gives in eventually and it could be smut in the end (could you pretty please write something like this <33)

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

idk who you are but you’re a genius, I fucking love you for this

warnings: luke’s a home wrecker but that OKAY because it’s him, also he’s so mean, kinda possessive, mention of masturbation, lil smut towards the end (oral, f receiving)

₊˚⊹♡

Another night. Sleep, the supposed thing he´s been wanting all day, remained out of reach. It had been like this for weeks, a relentless torment that gnawed at his insides with the intensity of a starving Furie. And who´s fault was it? You.

He groaned against his pillow, the sheet sticking uncomfortably to his sweaty torso. Night after night, it was the same, but he couldn´t help himself, how could he keep himself from thinking about you? Being an Aphrodite´s daughter, you simply stood out from the rest, but there was something more.

The way you carried yourself; applying the smallest amount of makeup that managed to accentuate your features, making your eyes sparkle and your lips look impossibly kissable. Your voice, seductive even when you didn´t mean for it to be. Even the hideous orange camp shirt, a piece of clothing that seemed designed to make someone look dowdy, couldn't diminish your aura. He could practically smell the faint scent of your perfume, a mix of coconut and something inexplicably you, that lingered in the air even after you’d left.

It was an obsession, a problem. He wasn´t naive though, he knew he wasn't the only one who felt this way about you. How boys tripped on their own feet and walk straight into trees because of you, but that was then. Because there was a tiny, slight problem now.

You were taken.

The feeling was hot and acid. You weren't his to have. You belonged to someone else, a possession proudly displayed by your ever-present boyfriend, a hulking son of Ares who never seemed to leave your side. And Luke shouldn’t feel this way, he knows it. He shouldn't feel the hot wave of need to break the guy´s jaw every time he saw you with him.

You were happy, he was sure of it, you showed it. Your mother was the goddess of love, so you surely enjoyed it when you had it wrapped around your hands. But with him, you could be even happier. You deserved more. You deserved him. Luke let out a low growl, no-, he deserved you.

Luke could take everything you had for him and more, things that he was sure, your boyfriend couldn´t, and never will be able to.

He should feel scared about some Hypnos kid sweeping into his dreams accidentally and taking a glimpse of his dreams. How he wanted to begin to play, to have his own fun. He was determined to play for keeps.

And you, his prize, would be his reward.

Luke wasn't stupid. He wouldn't blatantly flaunt his desires in front of your man. No, his approach was far more subtle, a slow burn.

It started with those little greetings. A passing "Hey there, pretty" as he walked by you on his way to archery practice, his armor straps purposefully being adjusted in a way that accentuated the broadness of his shoulders. You'd respond with a simple "Hi" a smile playing on your glossy lips as you continued your conversation with your sister, both of you blissfully unaware of the first move in his carefully calculated game.

He began weaving himself into your periphery, appearing near you at mealtimes, offering unsolicited help with chores, lingering just a tad too long during conversations.

It couldn't be denied, Luke was undeniably handsome. You always knew he was attractive, a dark-haired rebel with an edge that appealed to a certain kind of girl. He had a way of carrying himself, a cocky self-assurance that some could find arrogant, but others, like you, couldn't help but find strangely magnetic. Being a daughter of Aphrodite, you were keenly aware of the power of charm, and Luke possessed it in spades.

You found yourself strangely drawn to it.

But he had to act faster than that.

He'd find you reading under a tree, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves and casting an ethereal glow around you. He'd saunter over, a slow, predatory grace in his movements.

"Mind if I join you, beautiful?"

You looked up, rolling your eyes playfully. "My boyfriend's gonna kill you if he hears you calling me that" you chuckled, flipping a page of your book.

Luke, for a split second, allowed a flicker of irritation to cross his features, quickly masked by a sardonic smile. "Blame it on your mother, then. I can't help but speak the truth."

You couldn't help but bite your lip, a laugh bubbling up in your chest as he settled next to you comfortably, arm bumping your own.

"What are you reading?" he asked, his voice dropping a fraction lower as he leaned closer, the scent of leather filling your senses.

You mumbled the title, the close proximity of his body making you uncomfortably aware of the heat radiating from him. It took him a hot minute to open his mouth again, a almost mockery sigh escaping his lips as he leaned back on his elbows.

"You know," he began, his voice dropping even lower, "Your boyfriend doesn't seem to be around much lately."

You bit your lip, a mixture of annoyance and something else entirely bubbling within you. "He has his own training schedule, Luke" you pointed out, your voice taking on a slight comprehensive edge.

He nodded slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Of course" he drawled, stretching the word out like a piece of taffy. "But it´s been quite some time, right? Does he always leave you alone like this?"

You shrugged your shoulders. “He doesn´t” you stammered. “He´s just-, busy”

Busy. In summer. Gods, you were so…

Fucking cute.

He couldn't help but find it incredibly mesmerizing and astonishing, the way you were so transparently in love with your boyfriend, a love that Luke was determined to break, piece by piece. It only fueled his perverse desire to rip that very love away, to replace your blind devotion with a burning desire for him. He didn't want to break your heart — not exactly. He just wanted to re-route it, to steer its affection towards him.

The once-casual hangouts became more frequent. Tonight, you found yourself huddled next to him at the flickering bonfire. You chat casually, occasionally finding yourself hypnotized by the way his adam´s apple bobbed up and down every time he spoke.

“New skirt?” he then asked. He knew he shouldn't be looking, shouldn't have allowed his gaze to drop to the way the fabric clung to your thighs, drawing his attention to the delicious way they were pressed together ever since the moment you sat down. Yet, he couldn't help himself. The image seared itself into his memory, a forbidden fruit he desperately wanted to taste.

"Yeah" you chirped, a playful lilt in your voice. "You noticed?" There was a glint in your eyes, a spark of something that made his pulse quicken. Had he ever noticed your clothes before? Gods, yes, he knew every article in your meager wardrobe — the worn out oxford jeans, the simple white t-shirts that hugged your curves just perfectly, the tight cargo shorts, and now, this new skirt that showcased your legs in a way that made his blood run hot.

But he wouldn´t tell you that.

"Of course I noticed" he replied, forcing a casualness he didn't feel.

"Really?" you pressed, looking down at your clothes.

"You're impossible to miss” he pointed out. “It´s pretty” one of his fingers playfully tugged at the edge of your skirt, stealing a short giggle from you.

Your smile faltered for a moment though, a flicker of something crossing your face that Luke couldn't quite decipher. “He didn´t notice, you know?” you say.

A smug satisfaction bloomed in Luke's chest. Now, what could be better fuel for his twisted plan than a little unspoken resentment towards your oblivious boyfriend?

"Didn't notice?" he feigned obliviousness, milking the moment for all its worth.

"The skirt" you explain, kicking your feet playfully in the dirt. "Don´t really know why I care, though. He doesn't pay much attention to these things”

There it was, the confirmation he craved. Your fucking dumb boyfriend was failing you in all the ways that truly mattered. And Luke, oh, Luke was more than happy to fill that void.

In the mean way.

"Well, he's an idiot then" Luke stated firmly, his voice low and intense.

“Luke” you whined.

“What?” he cut you off with a humorless laugh, the sound tinged with a bitterness that made you uneasy. "Is it because of his busy schedule?" he mocked, his eyes narrowing. “Can’t say nice things to his girlfriend?”

You stared at him for a moment, your gaze unwavering. Your brows furrowed in a frown, and you tilted your head slightly, studying him with an intensity that made Luke suddenly feel analyzed. You leaned in, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. The movement brought you closer. His breath hitched a second as your eyes met his, framed by those long, mesmerizing lashes. It was as if you were looking not just at him, but right through him, searching for something.

"Why do you hate him so much?" you blurted out, the question tumbling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

Luke scoffed, the sound harsh and dismissive. "I don't hate him" he stated, but his voice lacked conviction. You raised your eyebrows, hiding a smile forming on your lips. “Hey, I mean it” he insisted, playfully pushing at your shoulder. "Just… feels like you're with someone who doesn't pay attention to you" he continued, his voice low and intense.

The casual tone he used, disarming and friendly, made you physically jolt a little. Luke managed to bite his tongue, swallow the jealousy and anger like a thick pill. He was a master manipulator. He wouldn't play his hand this early.

Unease settled in your stomach. "It's not always like that" you mumbled defensively.

"No?" he countered, his gaze unwavering. The firelight danced in his eyes, you couldn't help but look away, his intensity a little too much to handle.

"No" you repeated, your voice barely a whisper. "It's not his fault he's not interested in the things I like."

"Yeah, but you’re interested in everything about him, right?" Luke pressed, his voice soft but laced with something like a challenge, making you think twice before you answer.

His words hit a nerve, and you found yourself looking down at your lap, picking at a loose thread on your skirt. He was right, of course.

The silence stretched. A slow, teasing smile played on Luke's lips. He saw the doubt creeping into your eyes, the seed of discontent he'd been carefully planting beginning to sprout.

"You should find someone else, sweetheart" he said finally, his voice a husky murmur. He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair that had escaped your braid and gotten caught in your earring.

You met his gaze, your eyes wide and searching. The playful banter had completely vanished, replaced by a tension so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

"There are a couple of guys out there," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "who would kill for you to even look at them." He punctuated his sentence with a quick wink.

You breath out a nervous laugh, heat flooding to your cheeks. "You're such a drama queen, Luke" you finally managed, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"’M not sure about that" he conceded, leaning back slightly, but never taking his eyes off you. "But sometimes that´s what you need. A little drama, excitement. Could make you see things a little clearer”

Days went by, and the conversation with Luke replayed on loop in your head.

´Drama. Excitement´

On the surface, everything seemed fine. Your boyfriend was kind, reliable, everything you thought you wanted. It felt comfortable and safe, yet… predictable. That sparkle that Luke talked about, that was absent.

You´d try to shake off your thoughts. One moment you'd convince yourself it was all a silly game you were willing to play. The next, you'd find yourself lost in a daydream, picturing Luke's dark eyes burning into yours, his voice, his touch. You tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, telling yourself he was just a friend, a confidante.

But the traitorous part of you craved more.

Luke, meanwhile, felt like a predator closing in on his prey. Your growing confusion fueled his ambition, every stolen glance, every conversation, a victory in his twisted and sick game. He watched your boyfriend with growing contempt, the sight of his hand roaming in the curves of your body making him clench his fists in rage. It should be him, Luke, pulling you close at night in his bed, whispering in your ear. He yearned to see you smile for him. He yearned to claim you, to make you his own for once and for all.

So his façade started to fall off. His possessiveness became more blatant, his touches lingering a fraction of a second too long. His calculating approach was slowly giving way to a burning need, a possessive hunger he couldn't suppress much longer.

One night at the bonfire, while everyone enjoyed a good time and shared laughter and music, Luke didn´t see you there. He shifted his gaze to his surroundings, his attention snagged on the figure of you nestled deeper into the shadows.

As usual, you were captivating, your animated expression and rapid-fire gestures suggesting a heated conversation with someone unseen. The distance made it impossible to discern the words, but the set of your jaw and the slight flush creeping up your neck told a clear story – you were arguing.

Then he noticed. It was your boyfriend.

And as soon as he saw you storm off in anger, alone, into the woods. He followed.

He kept a safe distance, ensuring you wouldn't notice his presence. The woods, shrouded in darkness except for the occasional sliver of moonlight filtering through the leaves, were easy to navigate for him. Finally, he spotted you. You were huddled on the floor, your knees drawn up to your chest, a muffled groan escaping your lips.

“Hey” he called out softly.

You spun around. Luke´s figure stood behind you, hands in his cargo pockets, the shadows painting his face. “Hi” you reply, getting on your feet again, turning to him.

He knew what he wanted to say, what he needed to say for you to dip into his arms. But he was good at playing dumb too, so he waited a little more.

"Um… is everything alright?" he asked, feigning concern.

You crossed your arms over your chest, a shadow of your earlier anger flickering in your eyes. "Yeah, just…" you trailed off, searching for the right words. "Feeling the need to punch something that's not my boyfriend's face."

A sardonic chuckle escaped Luke's lips. "Now that's a feeling I can relate to," he said, taking a tentative step closer. You shot him a glare. “That´s a joke, sweetheart” he added. He didn´t manage to make you laugh, but you rolled your eyes and your lips curved into a small smile.

You leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Luke's voice asked, gently. He was standing a few feet away from you.

"It's been like this for days" you finally began, your voice thick with frustration. "And it's my fault. He says I'm acting weird, different, like something's in my head” You sigh “And maybe he's right."

Luke followed your gaze as it drifted to a patch of wildflowers growing at your feet. "So he just can't stand you having second thoughts about your relationship?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

You bristled at his words. "I never said I'm having second thoughts," you defended, a spark of defiance igniting in your eyes.

"But you are" he countered, his voice low and steady.

You shook your head, the movement sharp and jerky. "No" you insisted, a tremor in your voice betraying a touch of uncertainty. "I don't want to leave him, but…" Your voice trailed off, and you shifted your gaze, avoiding his eyes. "That conversation we had," you continued softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "what you said. It got me thinking."

A surge of satisfaction coursed through Luke. Bingo. He'd managed to plant the seeds of doubt, to make you question a relationship that once seemed solid.

"Yeah?" he pressed, his voice barely a murmur, encouraging you to elaborate.

You paused, your brow furrowed in concentration. It was strange, you were confiding in him, this boy who was practically your opposite. Yet, his words had resonated with you, stirred something you hadn't quite acknowledged before.

"Or maybe you're just trying to get to my head 'cause you never liked him" you suddenly accused, a hint of suspicion coloring your voice.

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe" he admitted shamelessly.

Doubt flickered in your eyes, chasing away the spark of defiance just as quickly as it appeared. "What are you trying to do, Luke?" you asked, your voice dropping to a soft whisper. "It feels like you're always trying to say something else to me," you continued, your voice barely above a breath, "but you never do."

The way you spoke, the vulnerability in your tone, it wrapped around Luke's brain and squeezed. His ears popped, a strange sensation accompanying the warmth that spread through his chest. You noticed. You saw the shift within him, the way his carefully constructed facade began to crack.

"Do you want me to be honest?" he finally asked, his voice husky and laced with a dangerous honesty.

You nodded, mesmerized by the raw intensity radiating from him. Gods, you were so naive, so blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within him. Luke wouldn't, couldn't, reveal the full extent of his obsession. He wouldn't confess to the months he'd spent dreaming about you, the way he'd snuck into your cabin late at night to steal something from your dresser, just to have a piece of you close. He wouldn´t confess how he let his mind race to the most sinful places, digging into thoughts about you that would eventually leave to him jerking one off in the bathroom.

He wasn't going to scare you away. No, his plan was far more subtle, a slow seduction that would eventually have you falling helplessly into his arms. He was going to peel back his facade just enough, letting you see a glimpse of the man beneath the rebellious exterior, a man who craved you and would treat you the way you deserved.

So he took another step closer.

"I can't stop thinking about you, yn" he confessed, his voice a husky murmur that sent shivers down your spine. The words hit you like a physical blow, unexpected and raw. A scoff escaped your lips, a nervous reaction to the sudden shift in the dynamic. You looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

“Gods, Luke, you´re-,” you cut yourself off when his fingers brushed against your chin, gently tilting your face back towards his.

"It's true" he continued, his voice laced with a desperate honesty. "And I can't handle the fact that you're with someone who doesn't deserve you."

“Don´t be ridiculous, Luke” you say.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze roaming over your face. "You're perfect, yn" he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "So beautiful, so smart. And you know it. Yet you settle for someone who takes you for granted. That's a little dumb of you, isn't it?"

The last sentence, delivered with a playful smirk, should have stung. It should have made you angry. But instead, a strange warmth bloomed in your chest. Perhaps it was the forbidden nature of the conversation, the way he was making you feel like a coveted prize.

And a terrible truth dawned on you - you weren't entirely innocent in this either. You had been feeling the same pull towards him, a flicker of something that went beyond friendship. You had enjoyed his attention, his way of seeing you, of truly seeing you.

But the reality of the situation slammed into you. "I have a boyfriend" you finally managed to say, your voice laced with a desperate attempt at determination.

He let out a chuckle, easily stepping on the thought of your boyfriend like some slug. "That´s a reminder to nobody but you, sweetheart"

Another tense silence. Luke raised his hand, placing it on the rough bark of the tree behind you, effectively trapping you.

"I know you've been thinking about what I said" he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of doubt, any flicker of vulnerability. And he found it.

Doubt, like a poisonous vine, slowly crept through your mind. His words, his raw honesty, had shaken the foundation of your relationship.

"But you think too much of it, angel" he continued, his voice a seductive coo. He used the nickname with such ease, as if it had always been his right.

He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking to a hair's breadth. His hand reached out, a single finger tracing the delicate outline of your jawline.

"There's nothing wrong with having a little fun sometimes" he whispered. "It's what you want, after all, right?” he tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. "Nobody's going to judge you" he continued, his voice a seductive promise. "It's just you and me. A little secret between us."

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Every fiber of your being screamed that this was wrong, a betrayal of everything you held dear. Yet, a part of you, a selfish, yearning part, craved the thrill he offered.

"Don't get me wrong, Luke" you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I… I want this" you confessed, the words catching in your throat. "But I can't. I'm taken and you know it." The words tasted bitter on your tongue, a lie even to your own ears.

A slow, evil smirk spread across his face. It wasn't the dangerous kind of thrill you craved, but a chilling realization of the game he was playing.

"Oh, I get you, sweetheart" he said, his voice dripping with a mockery that made you flinch. "But you're with him, yet you think about me, don't you?" Gods, he'd caught you. You couldn't deny it. Even with the guilt gnawing at you, the truth was undeniable.

Luke leaned closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing breath. He tilted his head, his curls tickling your cheek. He wanted to kiss you. You knew it, felt it in the way his lips hovered a breath away from yours.

And he stayed there, asking, as your breaths tangled together in shared exhales.

"But this is wrong, Luke" you whispered, your last attempt to hold onto the remnants of your sanity.

“No, it´s not” he breathed out, and in a swift motion, he grabbed you by the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours. The other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him.

It already surprassed your expectations the moment you felt his lips against yours. His desire was palpable, but it didn´t manifest as an animalistic manner. He was tender, passionate, and incredibly intoxicating.

His lips moved against yours in a way that left you breathless, his tongue pressing against yours and making it´s way inside your mouth with the fiflthiest wet sounds.

It was so delicious. You couldn´t imagine you´d find actual taste in someone´s lips, but whatever it was that Luke had on his, you wanted it all the time. He was hungry for you, pressing your back against the tree more and his hands travelled down to your hips, pulling you into his own.

But then you remembered; your boyfriend could be looking for you. "Luke?" you said. As you tried to speak, to convey some restraint, Luke´s kisses grew more insistent, refusing to let you utter a word. You attempted to push him away, but you only managed to rest your hands on his chest, pulling him closer instead by gripping fists on his shirt.

"Luke" you managed to call again. "We shouldn´t" you managed to murmur in between kisses, your words a weak attempt to resist the pull of his desire. But Luke only smirked into your lips, then started to softly, slowly, trail kisses down your neck.

"Just a little more, angel" he whispered against your skin a low and deep voice.

The sensation sent a shockwave through your body, each one drawing a sigh of pleassure from your lips as you instinctivily threw your head back, offering him more. The sensation was electric, leaving you squirming with anticipation under Luke´s skillful touch.

And then, he dropped to his knees.

His lips started to trail kisses on your knees and thighs, gripping on the soft flesh with his eyes up, looking at you, devouring you.

"Luke, no. Not here" you whispered, placing both hands on his shoulders in an attempt to resist the overwhelming power of his kisses. But he simply sushed you, drawing soft circles on your knees with his thumbs.

"Shhh" he cooed softly. "It´s okay, sweetheart. I´ll make you feel good, I promise" he reassured you, resuming his kisses up your legs.

You moaned when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive part of your inner thigh. His hands found their way underneath your skirt, his touch already making you grow in excitement. He pulled your panties to the side with a confident ease.

Your clit was almost throbbing. Swollen and desperate for attention; he felt it the moment he dipped the tip of his finger on your entrace to coat over your sensitve bud with your own arousal.

"I´ll make you see what´s worth it, baby. Who is" he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he leaned in, dangerously.

"I´ll make you feel what the little bitch of your boyfriend can´t"

Your heart raced against your ribs at a scary pace. Partly because your boyfriend, or anyone, could walk into the scene, and partly because Luke´s head was burried in between your thighs, and he showed no signals of stopping anytime soon.

He was enthusiastic about it; gripping onto your legs and squeezing at the soft flesh as his tongue circled and licked in between your folds. You knew there was more to that, more that he wasn´t gonna show you yet, he was only getting started.

You moaned out loud and tugged at his curls when he pulled your lips apart with his thumbs and pressed a wet kiss straight to your clit, pulsing and desperate for attention, just like you were.

"Such a pretty girl" he planted a quick kiss on your inner thigh. "He doesn´t make you feel this good, does he?"

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ma1dita · 2 months

Note

My dearest sweetest moony

I, a daughter of Hypnos, just want to hold Luke close and let him sleep the best sleep he has ever had in his life, don't let Kronos talk to him or get close to my boy

1, a daughter of Hypnos, just want to help the campers sleep, help all of those kids get their desired rest

Please let this daughter of Hypnos help her children (the campers) and her husband (Luke)

🐥

(i wrote this request and another one but I didn’t put the 🐥 on them, should I send them to you again or not? Sorry about that darling, love ya, and again I’m really sorry for the inconvenience)

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x hypnos!reader

wc: 756

—

Honestly, Luke was starting to feel bad.

Every free moment he gets to spend with you, he’s been falling asleep. He fell asleep during your lunch picnic last week, sprawled out on the red and white checkered blanket—cheek against your lap as you read a book, on your shoulder at the bonfire last night even with Percy and Grover trying to screech out the lyrics to ‘Unwritten’, and even now as you brush through his curls as you read all of cabin 11 a bedtime story.

Luke knows that dating a daughter of Hypnos has some advantages for sure—you get to stay in the bunk next to his since you don’t have your own cabin, your dad blesses him with nice dreams for taking care of you, and everyone quiets down easier for the night as you project images of sheep for them to fall asleep to. But as he rubs his eyes to the sound of your calming voice, he reckons he’d punch the shit out of a sheep if another misty image of one decides to trot near the air of his bunk. You’re nestled against his arm, looking ethereal with moonlight shining against your cheekbones as you watch his eyelashes flutter slowly from the weight of his eyelids.

“You need to stop doing that, my dream girl.”

“Hmm?” you whisper, voice breathy like cool air. Yawning, you press your cheek against his bicep with a smile.

“Stop putting me to sleep. Wanna spend time with you,” he mumbles, trying to not wake the other campers.

“M’not doing anything, Lu. Besides, you’re cute when you’re asleep,” you chuckle, and his arms wrap around you tighter as his hands dip into his pajama pants you stole from his dresser.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” he pouts, reaching to tickle the skin that peeks out from under your shirt and you giggle. The sound of it is loud enough to echo across the cabin, but something extra must have been in your voice tonight because not a single camper stirs.

In a room full of people, the two of you share a moment that’s just for the both of you, watching each other quietly with soft loving smiles. Moving closer to his face, your lips press kisses into the lines that crease his forehead, the scar running down his cheek, the tip of his nose, and finally the plump of his pouting lips. He pulls you in deeper, smiling softly against your kiss that’s ever so gentle until he’s drifting off…

You don’t take offense to it though. Sleep is your gift bestowed to you by your godrent, and to share that with your love makes it the best gift of all.

—

Luke jolts up the next morning after his nose dips into his bowl of cereal. The nymphs and younger campers all chatter and giggle around you two as he grumbles, shoving another mouthful of now soggy Frosted Flakes into his mouth. You smile, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck, taking a bite of your waffle.

“You okay, baby?”

He huffs, kissing the back of your hand before you stand up to go and grab napkins. Annabeth rolls her eyes from across the table, which makes Luke toss a chunk of banana at her.

“What?”

“You’re too dramatic for your own good, Luke,” she sighs, stirring her iced coffee with a straw. She looks at him exasperatedly when he looks more confused by her statement, even if it’s the truth.

“I just feel like a bad boyfriend. Always falling asleep on her. Never do that with anyone else, and sometimes I think she does it on purpose…” he says, leaning against his palm.

“It’s the oxytocin,” Annabeth says, and Luke looks at her blankly, “Your brain releases oxytocin around people you love, and as a result you feel safe and at ease—which is why you keep falling asleep around her. So stop blaming your girlfriend!” She shakes her head like the old soul she is, getting up to clear her tray and leave Luke to his nonsense. You return to the table with a handful of napkins and a grin that instantly brightens his mood.

Rubbing at his eyes, he can see you more clearly and to your surprise, Luke pulls you by the chin for a kiss as he says thank you.

“What’s that for? Can’t be because of the napkins,” you giggle, and a dopey smile crosses his face.

“Because I love you, my dream girl. That’s all.”

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

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Can you write hcs for Luke and a daughter of Hypnos (😴)

PLEASE

🥰

(If possible?)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs

content: luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs warning: so soft you'll puke tho tbh minor mentions of luke's angst author's note: why do i love this more than life itself???? i dunno, you tell me. i kinda wish it was longer but yo girl outta ideas. also, i think im so fucking funny for that last line like hello guys where is my oscar for funniest teen girl to exist????

lukey pookie and his sleepy girl frrrrr

you guys were, like, aware of each other but not like friends, ya know???

until his quest - well, failed quest

he kept having nightmares, horrors of the shame on his father's face, visions of his mother hearing the news had he actually died, terrible dreams of demented dragons and enough golden apples to drown in

chris noticed and suggest luke go see you, hypno's best daughter

chris knew you following a head injury that had him scared he was going to fall into a coma, but the apollo cabin had called you over to sooth his nerves.

you were also often called in when new, younger campers were struggling to sleep, which made the a common but distant face in the hermes cabin

and chris just knew you could do wonders for luke's recent sleep problems

after a little bit of resistance, luke finally went to you

he'd had the worst nightmare yet, leaving him with huge bags under his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that he couldn't seem to loose

he figured it quite literally couldn't get any worse, so he knocked on the door of cabin fifteen, already feeling slightly more at peace from just standing outside it

then a pretty girl opened the door, a cute yawn hidden behind her hand

"h-hey! luke, right? what can i do for ya?" you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before beaming a soft smile at the boy

luke choked on nothing, attempting to get words out but his tongue kept getting in the way and all that came out was chortled noises

you giggled softly, unable to keep them in despite the boys growing blush

"i-i- chris, he said- er, something about you being able to help me sleep with you- sorry! no, sleep, just, you know, in general," luke finally managed to spit out, his brain working overtime and the words coming out all wrong

you giggled at the boy once more before leaning forwards and grasping his wrist, tugging him into your cabin

you gestured towards one of the free, fluffy beds, disappearing off to somewhere, though you kept talking to the boy

"chris is really worried about you, ya know. i almost had to visit you, which we don't do very often. here, you want some tea?? lavender or chamomile? i prefer the chamomile but i think you'd like the lavender," you rambled, sitting beside him in the bed criss cross and presenting him with a mug and holding up two separate tea bags

"chamomile's fine," luke replied, taking the teabag from you, not wanting to mention that it reminded him of his mom but it reminded him of his mom

"chamomile's great!" you joked, bumping your shoulder with his

a few minutes passed of just luke drinking the tea and yawning before you mentioned that he should lie down, removing the mug from his hands

he was resistant, admittedly, not wanting to risk seeing more horrible things in his head

but you took his hand into yours, gently running your fingers along the veins and bones that you could just feel through his skin

"you think i'm just here for shits and giggles?? nah, i'm here to fistfight the boogie man. and lemme tell ya, these fists are lethal," you joke, winking at the boy, who laughed, settling into the soft pillows and blanket

but most importantly, he was settling into your presence, the hold you had on his hand, the soothing that your voice did to his brain and heart

and luke fell asleep, peacefully drifting off to the sounds of your hums and the feeling of your soft fingers ghosting over his skin

for the first time in a long while, luke castellan slept like a baby, warm and coddled and trusting that nothing bad could happen to him

not with the defender of REM cycle there

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan

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venxsssss · 2 months

Text

𖥻 . 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 ᯓ

°•— Lucifer morningstar x former spouse!reader

This includes Greek mythology.(basically, the reader is the daughter of Nyx, the primordial Greek goddess of the night and a consort to Erebus, the god of darkness, and one of the first goddesses, the person who made the earth, sky and sea with the one and only heavenly father. In this au, only two of Nyx's children, Hypnos, the god of sleep, and Hemera, goddess of the day, are present.)

Lucifer was besieged by a sense of unease. His offspring, well, his and Lilith's offspring, Charlie, desired to convene with the celestial beings of heaven, and now he found himself petitioning for an audience with the divine entity responsible for such meetings. He fervently hoped it would not be Michael or Adam he would have to face.

"You are granted permission to enter," the angel of unknown identity announced, eliciting a sigh of relief from Lucifer. It was not his twin brother nor the first man he was scheduled to meet.

Lucifer pushed open the door, revealing a maiden with (h/c) hair, adorned with slender blonde streaks. She was engrossed in the signing of documents, her crimson eyes, mirroring his own, a rarity amongst the heavenly hosts. No being, mortal or angelic, bore such eyes of deep red. "What is it that you seek, Lucifer Morningstar?" she inquired, her gaze seething with an indiscernible mix of anger and loathing. Her presence was a mystery to him; she was not among the archangels during his tenure, and her age seemed to align with Charlie's, albeit slightly older.

Yet, there was an uncanny... 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 about her.

He released a heavy sigh and met her gaze head-on. "My progeny desires an audience in the heavenly realms," he responded, detecting a twitch in the girl’s eyebrow. "She is haunted by a dream," he added. The girl exhaled slowly, her eyes once again meeting his.

"Your offspring wishes for a celestial audience because of a dream?" she questioned, her tone icy, causing Lucifer to swallow hard. "Indeed, she does," he confirmed, his voice faltering. Despite his reign over hell, he found himself unable to assert dominance over this young maiden.

"Hmm, she must take after you, Morningstar," she remarked, causing Lucifer to glance at her nervously. "Very well, I shall relay this request to the higher-ranking seraphim. I am not in a position to make such decisions on my own." Lucifer exhaled in relief. "I am in your debt," he expressed his gratitude. The maiden's eyebrow twitched once more, amplifying his nervousness. He diverted his gaze around the room, seeking to avoid her piercing eyes.

His eyes roved the room, finally resting on the maiden's name, etched in gold on the wall - 'Helena Athanasios'.

By the grace of Zeus... Athanasios?

Could it be related to THE Y/n Athanasios? His former spouse before he met Lilith and became a fallen angel?

Lucifer's mind was a whirlwind of questions - 'Who is this maiden?', 'Is she kin to you?', 'Why have I not met her before?' He swallowed hard once more, plucking up the courage to address her again. "Might I inquire if you are of kin to Y/n Athanasios?" he asked. The maiden's expression turned hostile. Oh dear.

"And pray, why should that concern you?" she retorted, adding, "To satisfy your curiosity and bring this meeting to a close, I am indeed a child of Y/n Athanasios, the female half of the twin pair, Helena Athanasios, formerly known as Helena Lightbringer - Morningstar."

"Now, I bid you take your leave. And no, I shall not entertain any further inquiries. 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦." she commanded, and before Lucifer could utter another plea, he found himself expelled from Helena's office.

Helena heaved a sigh and bit her lower lip. She and her twin, Aether, harboured a deep resentment towards their father. Especially Aether. In fact, she was grateful to be the one handling this task; had it been her brother, the room would have been reduced to rubble.

man, I can't explain nicely and specifically, sorry😓

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne

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girlbooklover555 · 3 months

Text

"Wait, Sharkboy, I need to mark this sentence, okay? Annie, do you have any more sticky notes left?"

Poly!percabeth x fem!reader

warnings : cute and probably very ? corny ? summary : Percy suffering back pain and boredom to make his girlfriends happy

I'm using Google translator

Sally Jackson and Paul Blofis were not home.

They traveled, so Percy had the apartment to himself.

What would Percy Jackson want to do all weekend?

Certainly not a reading marathon, not that he hated reading, but having two reading girlfriends, he was as used to the smell of books as he was to seeing swords.

But he honestly just wanted to make out and watch a movie right now (he probably wouldn't even pay attention to the movie). But when he asked you and Annabeth to spend the weekend with him, he knew something to do with books was going to happen, even if it was just a joke one of you would play with the other about something.

At least he could look at both of you during the conversation and in some way while you talked enthusiastically about literary universes and character development.

Even if he pay attention, ADHD doesn't help much.

Two girls talking about reading.

Your girls.

It was something attractive, so sometimes, no matter how corny some people talked, their conversations and theories, or even literary disagreements (which sometimes took a while to end), was attractive to him.

Percy blinked his eyes, tired of boredom, and the playlist at the moment was rain.

Annabeth wasn't helping when she made that choice.

Neither you...

Your hand caressing the in his hair were great, plus the fact that you were Hypnos' daughter, so it didn't help his sleep much.

Percy tries to snuggle in the middle of the couch between the two of you, but now the couch, even though it wasn't hard, was uncomfortable after 2 hours there.

How you and Annabeth put up with this torture, he didn't know.

He got tired of trying to steal kisses half an hour ago.

' Wait, Sharkboy, I need to mark this sentence, okay? Annie, do you have any more sticky notes left? '

'Um momento, Seaweed Brain, estou em uma parte importante.'

At least he knew that the back pain didn't kill them, because every minute one of them changed position.

So, he played with a bracelet on Annabeth's wrist, which she was wearing, and took advantage of you touching his hair.

When Percy blinked again, he noticed that he woke up because of a sleep timer noise on his cell phone next to him.

“My turn to choose the playlist, Chase,” you say, excited to swap the sound of fake rain for a literary playlist.

Percy decided to go back to sleep again, while "Lovers Rock" started playing in the background.

When he woke up for the second or third time in the late afternoon, he smelled cookies coming from the kitchen and noticed that he was the only one on the couch and had a blanket covering him now too.

He looked up and saw, through the kitchen door, you and Annabeth talking something about cookies. “Sally uses more blue paint than that, honey,” Annabeth said.

Percy smiled and pretended to be asleep. At least this time he didn't drool in his sleep...

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #percabeth #annabeth chase #percy jackson x reader #annabeth chase x reader #percabeth x reader #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #riordanverse #rick riordan

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percyluvr · 3 months

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helloooooo!!!! can i request a percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader headcanons?? it would be pretty interesting to see hera having a child tbh

thank you if you do 💛

percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader summary: hcs for percy with a daughter of hera

when he first met you he was kinda worried bc he has beef with hera

but he's also confused bc wasn't she not supposed to have kids??

he expected you to be just like your mom

and you lowkey were

but you were a bit less.. uptight

but at the same time, u cant really blame her, her husband literally cheats on her so much

BUT ANYWAYS

i think u'd be so caring to him and he would love it SO MUCH

since hera is the goddess of marriage and childbirth, u would lowk take care of him like hes ur son

but like not in a weird way

u just care ab him so much that u baby him all the time

since both of ur cabins are always empty except for each other, u have sleepovers all the time

u have a pretty close relationship w ur mom, esp because ur her only demigod kid

percy isnt really jealous per say, bc he's decently close w poseidon, but like

he wishes he was that close with him

hera visits u in ur dreams a LOT bc she just loves u a lot

zeus is mad but she dgaf cuz ur her only daughter

and only kid

so obviously she's protective

esp when u tell her that u and percy r dating

shes at camp the next day asking u to introduce her to him

which ur like "mom pls y'all have already met"

and shes like "yes, but never when he was ur bf"

so u just go along w it bc u love her

they're lowk beefing bc she doesnt want u to get hurt

but as time goes on she realizes how much percy loves u and cares abt u

and she thinks ur the cutest couple ever

she is ready for yall to get married bc shes gonna throw the most extravagant and perfect wedding

and shes so excited esp bc ur the only kid she's going to be able to do this for

have i mentioned that she loves u a lot?

ANYWAYS

yk how in like house of hades and i think chalice of the gods when percy looks at annabeth and is js like "i cant wait to marry her and have kids"

yeah, hes like that but 300000x

and he's so excited bc he knows that ur gonna be SUCH a good mom

people always think ur weak bc ur mom "lets herself get cheated on"

or whatever dumbass shit they be saying

but u prove them wrong

mothers r fr the most powerful people in the UNIVERSE

and ur basically a mother bc u take care of everyone at camp

ur always at the infirmary helping the apollo kids bc its just in ur nature to love taking care of people

and percy always comes in with even the smallest little injuries

and it just warms ur heart to know that he wants to come see u even when ur working

u take care of the little baby pegasi too omg

gn thats so cute

imagine if blackjack had a lil baby pegasi and u took care of it

and percy is just like

melting

ur so sweet to them even if theyre "just horses"

it makes him so excited to have kids w u

whenever u see a little kid

or like a younger camper

u always tell him that u cant wait to go to new rome uni and then get married and have kids w him

the two of u are just so excited for the future with each other fr

i just think the two of u would be taking care of the pegasi and u would fall asleep in the hay after staying up talking

big surprise for the kids that have riding lessons that morning...

yall werent embarrassed tho cuz u have no shame fr

well, u have shame

percy has none

not the point.

everyone at camp sorta sees u as a mother and they always come to u

lowk camp therapist

bc they NEED one real bad

but it doesnt bother u bc u love to help them

ur always trying to fix problems at camp

and its very upsetting for you when you cant, and percy is always there to comfort u

ur lowk a meddler like ur mom

but its okay bc ur just worried about ur friends

i think that u would maybe have some soothing powers kinda like a hypnos kid, where u can like calm people down or put them to sleep

i also think that percy would suffer from panic attacks after his nightmares

so after he has a nightmare, you're there and if you can't soothe him with your words you just use ur powers

u can't stand to see him like that

it just upsets you so much

percy is so grateful for ur powers, but hes even more grateful for you

i think ur a lot more relaxed than most people at camp

and u dont really see the point in doing dangerous things for fun

which is different for percy, but he really does like it

he likes that he can just go to you and ask to relax and ur always down for that

its a change of pace that is definitely welcome and necessary in his life

ur definitely more of a rational thinker than him, so u stop him from doing some pretty stupid things

but u would never stop him from having fun

or doing thing that are important to him

ur relationship is lowk the blue print

yall just take care of each other fr

and ur like an old married couple which u two get teased ab

but u dont care

cuz u cant wait to get married lol!

a/n: this was a vv interesting request to write and i honestly loved imagining what a child of hera would be like so thank u for the req!

#pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo series #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson fic #pjo x you #percy jackson imagine #book percy jackson #percy jackson headcanons #now i need to see a canon child of hera.......... pls rick #ik she wouldnt have kids but they could be like athena's kids or smth.... idk #just need that in my life

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thekissofaphrodite · 28 days

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Can you maybe do Clarisse x fem! Child of Hypnos?? I don’t think I’ve seen anything of that dynamic and I’d like to see how you would write it!

OKAY. IM ACTUALLY RLLY EXCITED ABT THIS SINCE JUST LIKE ANON SAID, I'VE NEVER SEEN A DYNAMIC LIKE IT BEFOREE.

Sweet Dreams

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Hypnos!Reader

Summary: A shared moment with clarrise with a flick of your finger.

Warnings: Hypnokinesis, people passing out and language

Author's note: Okay, I'm actually tired of some writers portraying a child of hypnos who likes to sleep... yeah, sure, their dad is the God of sleep, but that doesn't mean they just slump on their bed and snore away! They're also powerful! If you read the books !SPOILER ALERT! Hypnos literally knocked an entire city to sleep before the battle of Manhattan for Kronos. Why can't we portray his children like that? 🤨 No hate! Just speaking facts <33

CHILDREN OF HYPNOS DESERVES SOME RECOGNITION!! (coming from cabin 7)

——

You missed your girlfriend so much.

She was in archery and capture the flag today, but you two barely got enough time to run to each other before she was bombarded by tasks from Chiron.

You saw the way her eyes would soften from afar, giving you a discreet sympathetic look while she went on a rampage on her siblings ready to stab them into kebabs using her spear. But she knew you'd find a way to get to her, she always knew.

and you always do.

It wasn't long before every camper eventually dozed off after a fun sing-a-long around the campfire, singing their hearts out about their godly parent, minus a Demeter Girl complaining about getting a fern for her birthday instead of a car like all her friends.

So here you are, pulling your night robe closer as you impatiently wait for your father to caress Clarisse's siblings to sleep so you can have a moment with her.

But your father was taking way too long.

you have been hiding behind the cabin for hours, Listening to the unpleasant way the swords and spears of the Ares cabin got sharpened and big boisterous faces laughing at eachother. Clarisse was in her bunk, her arms crossed with a seemingly frowning expression. Every laughter made by her siblings made her more and more annoyed.

Every minute that passed made you more agitated until you finally snapped.

You stood behind the cabin and held your hands, focusing on the heartbeats and every breath that they exhaled, The sound around you became indistinct and fuzzy, the time seemed to slow down. A translucent light smoke seemed to snake inside the Cabin before it swirled around Clarisse' siblings, it took a few moments before their eyelids got heavy, their breathing ragged. And sure enough, there was a soft thud where their body fell.

It took you by surprise. It also snapped Clarisse out of her thoughts. Seeing her siblings who were talking lively minutes ago dozing off turned her off, She stood up alarmingly, ready to fend herself to any attacks of intruder.

When she saw you, her tense body softened, the beam on your face was a little unreadable, but she couldn't help but smile.

You ran and threw yourself into her arms, she caught you easily, carrying your weight like nothing.

"I did it, Clar!" You squealed, Clalrisse looked at you, confused.

"Did what, Baby?"

"My father finally blessed me! I get to use my powers, i can't believe this, did you see?!" You were babbling like a baby, words being thrown at her in hyperplaps, but she listened, never letting you go in her arms. She listened and remembered everything.

Like the time you were sobbing in her arms, after multiple failed attempts on praying to your father, it hurt her. She remembered when she used to devote herself to Ares, offering him big chunk of brisket and the freshest strawberries on her plate, just for him to answer her prayer, but it never worked, until finally he had enough of her, and gifted Clarisse a spear to shut her up.

But seeing you happy for finally being able to have powers, she felt something inside her change.

Clarisse tightened her arms around you, placing her nose to your hair, inhailing your scent.

"I'm proud of you" she pulled away and placed her hand against your cheek. She was slowly analyzing the color of your eyes, carefully studying each and every details your face had, then she slowly reached to your lips, the color was a mix of peach and pink, assuming it was from the lipgloss, but it looks so deliciously kissable right now.

Her hands reached the back of your head and before you know it, her lips were against yours, an arm wrapped around your waist while pulling you close.

"I love you, did you know that?" Clarisse whispered on your lips, "i doubt it" You laughed, falling over Clarisse' soft bunk bed as she kissed you once more.

An extra for you guys since i disappeared too long :>

——

There were soft groans and mumbles coming from Clarisse' siblings, it was already 3:46 am.

"What happened?" Asked Sherman while rubbing his temple.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at her brother, Sherman, glancing at their weapons leaned against their bunk.

"Nothing, i guess you two spent way too long gossiping that your eyes eventually took it themselves and took a rest" she said, Clarisse was trying not to grin at her siblings, knowing well that it was all her girlfriend's doing.

"Huh... what did you do when we're out then?" One of her brothers, Ellis asked.

"The usual, inspection and lights out"

"Really?" Both brothers said in unison.

"Yes, don't look at me like I'm lying, unless you want a spear up your ass" Clarisse snapped, rolling over and hugging her pillow to sleep.

Both brother looked at eachother and quietly snickered, i guess they'll keep hush about that peach and pink lipgloss smudge near clarisse' neck.

And they'll definitely tell the others tomorrow.

#clarrise pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #xy/n #thekissofaphrodite #clarisse la rue x reader #dior goodjohn #wlw #child of hypnos #percy jackson

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number-onekidqueen · 4 months

Text

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Part One Part Two.

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: underage alcohol use, minor injuries, angst, denying feelings, surprise kisses

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

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

And then the fun would begin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

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

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

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

But instead you kissed others.

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

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

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

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

You stayed still.

Still.

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

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

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

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

“Get some, Castellan!”

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

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

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

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

——————————————

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

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

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

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

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

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

“What?”

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

You met him once again.

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————————————————-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wouldn’t even meet them.

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

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

How he wished you had been sober.

#percy jackson #percy jackson tv show #luke castellan #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo tv show #pjo show luke #pjo tv series #pjo series #percy jackson tv series #pjo luke #more angst <3 #hope you enjoy this #requests open #wish you were sober #conan gray song #song fic

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