#dark luke castellan x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

murdrdocs · 9 months ago

Text

to forever always

description. LUKE CASTELLAN has never had any interest in relationships. but when he sees that look in your eyes, the same one he keeps buried deep down inside of himself, there's nothing more he wants than for you to be with him. except, maybe for you to be like him.

includes. SMUT MDNI 18+ , heavy petting, grinding, making out, dark!luke, loser!luke, dark!reader, implications to maiming, luke is a professional at longing, reader has hair long enough to be pinned back, they play simon says, typical young adult awkwardness, drinking.

wc: 5.5k+

a/n: title from forever always by the driver era. ao3 link. art creds to yazed aljohani

You’ve been at camp for nearly three months when Luke sees it in your eyes.

You’ve been unremarkable at best before then. A late arrival without a capturing story carried along with you, no captivating backstory to draw attention. You stuck to yourself mostly, only coming out of your shell when conversing during training sessions with Luke. He went out of his way to set them up, fueled by the fact that you were older than most, closest to his age, and he didn’t want you to feel left behind when some thirteen year old could easily disarm you in five minutes flat.

Truth be told, he pitied you.

As a result, he trained you four times a week, pushing your body to its limits and sharing anecdotes during your break periods to provide some sort of solace for you. Because at the end of the day, Camp Half Blood was your home. At least, that’s how it was supposed to be presented.

During his share of anecdotes, practically each story starting on that fateful day when he was fourteen, Luke left out his true feelings about the area surrounding you both. He preferred to keep you blinded with things happy enough to make you laugh, with only enough hints of the truth to make you start asking the right questions.

His attentive training has hardened you around the edges. He’s made you a little rougher, or perhaps he’s chiseled away at the stone encasing your true nature, and the person he stood next to was who you really were.

A warrior.

An animal.

Teeth bared, sword raised over the kid lying helplessly at your feet, your chest heaving with effort and a dark look in your eyes. Darker than Luke has ever seen before. It’s victorious, with a hint of a challenge in there. As if you’re daring this kid to stand up, gather his sword, and attempt to best you once more.

Surely, with the way Luke has trained you, if the kid did make an attempt he would end up in the same position in no time.

The sight is exhilarating. It makes the blood rush to Luke’s ears and his fingertips start to buzz with the fuel he’d never been able to use. But he’s in control here. And he has an image to uphold.

He calls your name, firm and demanding. The tone of a leader.

He rests a hand on the shoulder pad of your armor, pushing you back from the kid with enough force to distance you two. He fills the space created, his back to the others and his eyes cutting down at you. It takes you a second to lift your eyes to him, and when you do, when you look up at Luke—at your leader—you’re seething.

Luke really tries to hold his smile in and he’s glad that right now, you’re the only one who can see him.

“At ease. You got ‘em.”

You watch him pointedly, nostrils flared, and Luke lifts an eyebrow with a controlled movement, questioning you, daring you to challenge him.

You take a step back and rid the tension in your shoulders as you adjust your helmet.

You don’t say anything, instead sheathing your sword into its scabbard and watching Luke once more, waiting for orders.

He has trained you well.

‎

The energy around the campfire is palpable. It washes over the bodies of the campers surrounding the bonfire, settling over their skin and providing a glow. Even some of the Ares kids appear to be beaming, although they were clearly sour about another loss.

You, like everyone else, seem to be in good spirits too. A pleasant smile on your face as you watch the scene around you.

The fire burns a mesmerizing gold and Luke finds you watching it reach up toward the sky, your curious eyes taking in as much of it as you could. Your head is already tilted up, so you don’t adjust your position at all whenever Luke steps into perspective.

He stares down at you for a moment, searching for that look in your eyes. The same one he saw during capture the flag a few weeks ago.

Ever since then, Luke has developed a new fixation, one multiplied whenever he got a hit just a few days ago during training.

He’d had you on your knees then. Your chest heaving with exhaustion as you were staring up at Luke with a look so threatening that he wondered what exactly you were capable of. You were definitely at your wits end by that point, but that wasn’t when he saw it. Deep within your eyes was sincerity, maybe a bit of worry, and Luke knew that if he drew his sword down to give you a critical hit, a final blow even, you would defend yourself.

But that’s all.

He hadn’t felt the need to prepare for an opposing attack. He knew you would defend yourself, but not go for the attack. You wouldn’t hurt him. And that wouldn’t do.

So Luke laughed. He threw his head back and let out an exaggerated guffaw as he exclaimed that you looked perfect on your knees. As he insinuated that that was where you belonged. Beneath him. Beneath anyone.

His teasing did the trick. And he has a healing scar on the outside of his forearm to prove it.

Now, standing above you at the campfire, a setting so casual that it was almost sickening, Luke didn’t see any resemblance of anything challenging in your gaze.

Instead, you appear back to usual, sitting alongside a few of the Athena kids yet not actively engaging in conversation, holding a burnt marshmallow on a stick with two hands, your elbows resting on your knees as you look up at Luke with that same pleasant smile.

“This seat taken?”

He’s already sitting down as he asks it and if someone were to return, he knows they wouldn’t have attempted to reclaim their spot.

You stare over at him with amusement written all over your face.

“What if I said it was?”

Luke shrugs. He reaches over, sliding your stick out of your hand and sticking the marshmallow back into the fire. He lets it ignite, turning it over to do the same to the other side, and after a second he removes the sweet treat, extinguishes the flames, and takes a bite out of it.

You’re watching him, waiting for a response, and when you realize that he’d already given his response, you turn back to watch the fire instead.

He lets you sit in silence, slowly chewing through the sticky food as he watches the side of your face.

You look pretty like this. The amber glow of the fire illuminates your face, casting visually stunning shadows across your skin, highlighting places Luke has noticed but never appreciated until now.

He has always known you’re pretty. He’s known it since you walked into camp, confused and stunned as demigods clustered around you.

Luke remembers looking around at his fellow campers, noticing how judgmental they seemed. Because, in all honesty, you weren’t like the other people that came to Camp Half Blood. Not terrified, young, and lost in the world.

Not only were you older, but you had a certain stance to you that told Luke you weren’t confused, just curious. Your head was lifted, your shoulders pressed back as you held up the thick straps of your stuffed book bag. You were faking to be unbothered, but as you eventually confirmed Luke’s prior assumptions, you were worried.

Worried about the sea of young faces you saw. Worried that coming to Camp Half Blood at your age was a mistake.

Until your eyes met Luke’s. His dark eyes were watching you, analyzing your form for potential. Trying to find areas that could be molded into a fighter, and aspects that didn’t have to be changed one bit.

According to you, seeing Luke made you feel comfortable. Seeing Luke made you feel like coming to camp wasn’t a mistake at all.

He is glad that you arrived as well. Because before you, Luke felt alone.

He was looked up to, admired, respected, but rarely seen as just a peer.

And even further, before you got here, he hadn’t seen himself being romantic with anyone.

But now, sitting here with the gold of the fire affecting his mood in the same way he affects it, he has the sudden urge to intertwine your fingers with his or throw his arm over your shoulder. Maybe pull you into his side and plant his lips on yours, effectively claiming you as his and letting you claim him as yours.

Instead, he knocks his shoulder against yours.

“What’s got you looking so sad over there? We won today. You should be celebrating.”

You laugh a little, but it’s not one of the big and genuine ones you give him when he cracks an impressive joke.

“Give me something stronger than s'mores and maybe I’ll celebrate.”

Luke faces back towards the fire as he tells you, “that can be arranged”.

He notices you watching him from the corner of his eye. He can’t tell if you’re smiling, and if you are, if it’s one of genuine interest or one of amusement derived from misunderstanding his tone for a joke.

Either way, you hum. “Don’t tease me like that.”

He tilts his head a little. “Bold of you to assume that I’m teasing.”

He stares at you and a moment of understanding passes by.

Then, “but only if you tell me why you look so sad.”

Luke knows he’s a brave person. Hell, he took on a dragon at just seventeen and lived with nothing but a scar as a reminder. (And the plaguing nightmares but what the others didn’t know won’t hurt them)

But he feels a different form of bravery find him as he reaches a hand out, plants his thumb at the corner of your lips, and tugs upwards.

“You know what they say about turning that smile…” He lets the end of his sentence taper off, raising his eyebrows as if he expects you to finish the overdone phrase for him. It doesn’t surprise him when you swat his hand away instead.

He thinks he sees you hiding a smile when you turn away from him for a second but when you return with another marshmallow, sticking it on the end of the stick in between Luke’s hands, your face is neutral.

He thrusts the white into the burning gold as you begin to speak.

“Do you remember the first capture the flag win? When I was on defense with you?”

One side of the marshmallow ignites and Luke turns it around so the other can do the same.

“When you were taking down the others? Of course I do.”

(Luke resists the urge to add a mention of how attractive you looked then. He doesn’t know how you would take the comment in general, much less when you seem to be going through some sort of moral battle)

“Yeah.” You take a moment.

Luke takes the marshmallow out and blows on it. He lets it cool.

“I didn’t feel like myself then,” you eventually admit.

“What d’you mean?”

You shrug. “I dunno. I felt … meaner. Like–”

“Like you wanted to hurt someone?”

When you nod, you’re staring down at the ground, refusing to look up at Luke.

He doesn’t know why he does it, but he lies.

“That’s normal for demigods.”

That gets your attention. You look over at Luke with hope in your eyes, the pair shining in the light as they flicker back and forth between Luke’s own gaze.

“Really?”

Not allowed to back down now, Luke nods.

“Yeah. That rage you have within you. The need to beat someone, to be better than someone. I feel it all the time.” And that, that right there, is the stone cold truth.

He’s never admitted it to anyone else before, but with you, things feel different. He figures that this feeling he has around you is what some religious people feel in their faith. Maybe what some of the other believers at camp feel in regards to their parents.

Luke pops the marshmallow into his mouth whole.

You look relieved as you speak. He hadn’t noticed the tension in your body until it’s gone.

“So I’m not messed up?” Your voice is small, weak, insecure, almost.

Luke almost feels bad about lying to you.

Almost.

“Not any more than the rest of us.”

What he doesn’t say is: not any more than me.

As soon as his marshmallow is swallowed, he asks you to meet him later that night.

‎

Luke feels like he’s been waiting ages for you.

He’s paced a path in the dirt, twirled the small dagger he kept on him until his fingers could no longer grip the handle comfortably, and he’s started to gnaw on his bottom lip in anticipation that at this point he worries that they aren’t kissable anymore. Because no matter how much he tries to lie to himself, he invited you out to the clearing that you train in with one intention in mind.

He digs into the pocket of his cargos, searching for a second before his fingers wrap around the small tube of chapstick he got from one of his sisters. Cherry flavored, artificially so, but it still smells pleasant enough. Whenever he’d received it from her it was fresh, the seal unbroken, but since then he has used at least a quarter of its contents.

The balm glides over the broken pieces of skin, smoothing them out as best as possible, and then Luke recaps the tube and stuffs it back into his pocket.

It’s no sooner that the lip balm has found a home again that he hears the thud of a shoe against the soft ground behind him.

He doesn’t turn around, not yet. He doesn’t want to seem too eager. Instead, he twirls his knife again, a little slower this time to prevent it from slipping and falling onto the ground embarrassingly.

“Didn’t think I should’ve brought a weapon.”

Just the sound of your voice makes Luke’s insides flutter. He feels stupid, silly even, to have such a crush like this. He feels juvenile.

A smile briefly blooms across his face before he snips it off, turning around to look at you as neutrally as he can manage.

“You should always keep a weapon on you. Don’t you remember rule number one?”

Luke watches you reach behind your back for only a second before you brandish the dagger he’d given you for him to see, a triumphant smile on your lips.

“I’m a good listener. Don’t you remember?”

Proud, Luke tucks his dagger back into its holster and you do the same.

He takes a step closer to you as he proposes his next question, a hand reaching up to flick off an imaginary lash from your cheek. He doesn’t know why, but as of today he’s found himself touching you more. Searching for any reason to justify feeling your skin against his.

“How good of a listener are you?”

Your head tilts a bit, eyes squinting, and he realizes that it’s an action he does often. The implications of you picking up things from him makes his chest bloom with something. Pride, maybe?

“Try me.”

You step back, giving Luke a full view of your body.

He lets his eyes scan your frame once. Taking in your messy hair, pinned up for the night. Your sweatshirt with some school on it. Luke, not knowing much about the outside world, doesn’t know if it’s college or high school, much less its location. But it’s well worn in, clearly loved by you. You’ve paired it with a loose pair of pants, and Luke has suspicions that if he were looking at you from behind, the flowy material would perfectly outline your ass.

He clears his throat and meets your eyes again.

“Okay…” he thinks for a second. “Simon says: touch your nose.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, but then you lift your right hand, single out your pointer finger, and press it against the tip of your nose.

“Simon says: touch your toes.”

Luke watches, seeing if he’ll catch you, but you keep one hand situated on your nose and use the other to reach down to press your hand against the beat up end of your sneakers.

“Hm, okay,” Luke nods as if he’s impressed. Like you would struggle at a kids game.

“Simon says you can stop.”

You stand back up straight.

“Simon says: spin around twice.”

You spin around twice.

Instantly, without giving you a second to rest, “spin around a third time.”

You jerk for a second, but stay still in the end. Luke points, smiling a bit as if saying I almost had you.

You don’t respond but your lips curl up into a little embarrassed smile.

Luke continues giving you orders for a few moments, letting you get comfortable with the preface of “Simon says” just before he gives the final blow.

“Kiss me.”

There’s no order from Simon before it. Just Luke. He gauges your reaction. And when he sees you stay put, he tries to move on.

“Simon says–”

But then you’re walking towards him, and you’re reaching up to rest your hands on his shoulders, and you’re pulling him down to reach you better, and then you press your lips to his. It’s light, a barely there touch, and then you’re pulling away, walking back to your spot, and standing straight, waiting for your next order.

“I didn’t say Simon says.”

Proudly, you tell him, “I know.”

There’s a moment where the only noise is that of nature. Of the harmony of the world existing around this possibly unharmonious moment. The brief balance could easily be thrown off by your reaction to the next bit. If Luke were being dramatic, he would claim that your reaction determines the fate of the world, and maybe even of his mission.

He takes a breath, and then takes the plunge.

“Simon says: kiss me again.”

This time, your kiss is firmer. You’re standing on your toes a bit, overcompensating for Luke who still stands tall with his shoulders back and his head up.

Eventually, he dips his head down at the same time that he finally gets to touch you.

It’s small, nothing but a hand on your hip, but the context of it changes everything for him. He’s touched you before, brief presses of his fingers against a part of your body to emphasize a point, or correct your posture, and then earlier when he reached out for the delicate skin on your face.

Those things were friendly, that of a mentorship even.

Nothing to this degree.

You tilt your head and deepen the kiss, opening your mouth wider as you start to take control. And Luke hands it to you.

He grips the loose fabric of your pants, takes the tiniest step forward, and presses himself against you. In return, you nudge closer to him, holding the sides of his head and keeping him steady to allow yourself to explore his mouth.

He’s a little lost, he’s never gotten to this base with anyone before. Besides the time he kissed one of the Aphrodite kids as part of truth or dare years ago. But that kiss was nothing compared to this, not even on the same scale.

In this field, he’s inexperienced.

For fear of making a complete fool of himself, he simply mirrors in the form of reciprocation.

When you press your tongue into his mouth, he does the same, meeting you not quite in the middle and simply doing what you do.

There’s a moment there where you leave Luke’s lips, and he’s preparing himself to be upset when you pull away, but then your lips pucker and you suck his upper lip for just a split second, and you return to kissing him like his knees didn’t just get a little weak.

Fortunately, the slight lapse presses his crotch against yours again, and you suck in a breath when Luke accidentally grinds his boner into you.

Sensing that it’s something good, and satisfied that he’s not the only one as aroused as he is, he does it again. This time intentionally.

He frees his grip on your pants to move his palms around, pressing into the top of your ass and the end of your back, pulling you closer to bump your crotches.

This time, you do peel away from his lips completely, but it’s to let out the prettiest sound Luke has ever heard.

Your eyebrows are pinched together a bit, your lips shining in the torch light and parted.

You’ve only been apart for a couple of seconds, but Luke is on you again.

He sacrifices the grip he has on your lower half to stretch his hand along the connection of the back of your skull and neck, fingers spreading as far as the tip of your spine to an inch into your scalp.

He lets go of the insecurities he has in his lack of experience and just kisses you. His immediate intention isn’t to take control from you. Rather, it’s just to have you as close to him as possible.

You respond eagerly. Arching into him, slinking your arms over his shoulders, pressing your hands into the muscles along his back. At one point, you lift your leg and nudge your knee against Luke’s side by way of getting even closer to him. The position change allows the first real touch of your centers together and your head falls back, exposing the pretty sight of your jugular to him.

There’s a moment there where Luke has the urge to wrap his hand around it. But he fears what your reaction would be so he flexes his hand, and lets the thought evaporate into the stiff night air.

Luke knows that he feels as he does because of the hormones swirling throughout his body, but he has the feeling that he can trust you. Really trust you. Enough to tell you everything he’s ever wanted to tell anybody.

“Do you trust me?” He says it to you, his hand pulling your head back towards his, your lips mere centimeters a part.

You nod, the tip of your nose nudging against his with each movement.

Luke kisses you once, then tells you, “the gods, they–”.

He doesn’t have a spiel planned, but his need to tell you everything has him covered. He knows that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop. Not until you understand your parents as he does.

You put an unexpected dent into Luke’s poorly conceived plan when you shake your head.

“Don’t wanna hear about the gods right now, Luke. Just wanna kiss you.”

And the way you say it, like it’s something you need rather than just want, makes Luke abide completely.

His free hand slips under your shirt, pressing his palm flat against your torso, and giving himself the first real press of skin on skin. He sighs, pulling away from your lips to knock his forehead against yours.

He slides his hand up until he finds where your bra would sit. But he doesn’t run into any more material. Instead, he reaches a hill, one he nudges his thumb against, reaching up until he finds the beginning of your areola. Then, as if he’s realizing that he’s going further than he should be, he pulls his head away and looks at you.

“Is this…?” The question makes him feel vulnerable. If he finishes it, he bares his wants out to you. And he knows that you have done the same for him already, but he doesn’t feel ready to invite the possibility of rejection.

So instead, he raises his eyebrows and waits for you to catch on.

You nod, biting down onto your lower lip. Your hands begin to search, too, leaving behind the sides of Luke’s face to tickle through the grown out hairs at the back of his head.

What follows is the most carnal display of want that Luke has ever been part of.

He starts by tweaking your nipples, applying light pressure and then smoothing it out when you moan. He watches your reactions to try and figure out what to do next, but luckily you end up pulling his hand away yourself, leading it to the elastic waistband of your pants. You look at him pleadingly, not needing to say what you want for Luke to take initiative.

Luckily, the favor is returned.

You unbutton his jeans, pull them down just enough, and reach a hand into the fabric, touching along the gingham pattern of his briefs.

There’s not much coordination to it at all, but it doesn’t seem to bother either of you. From how Luke sees it, you’re equal amounts of eager, pressing against each other in multiple areas as if you’re both attempting to fuse your bodies together.

In the excitement of it all, Luke accidentally bumps the heel of his palm against your center. He assumes that it would have hurt you, so he’s close to apologizing.

Until you moan.

That’s all it takes for Luke to push away the rest of his pride and insecurities. He takes a breath.

“Will you … can you show me what to do? How to make you feel good?”

Your reply is instant. “Two fingers.”

He singles out his pointer and middle finger.

“And then go...” You wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling his touch up to find something that his fingers catch on, a bundle of nerves that apparently feels good for you. You nod, sighing out a small “right there”.

He feels a little dumb when he asks, “What do I do now?”

“Rub. Circles are best, but side to side works too.”

So that’s what he does.

He starts slow at first, the circles a little wide, but they feel good for you. You’re nodding, eyes fluttering shut a bit. You return your hand to Luke, pressing over his dick, and then sliding a little further down until you reach his balls.

He tries to hide his sound, but a hitch of his breath comes out anyway.

There’s a tree stump just behind you, a product of an accident Luke has yet to tell you about, but you direct him towards it, standing over him for a second when he falls back to sit on it. The two of you have sat on the stump a few times before, but never in this capacity.

Luke watches you climb over him, straddling his hips, and pushing your crotches together.

Then, you grind.

One of Luke’s hands finds your ass, the other reaches back to connect with what’s left of the tree, reclining his position just enough to provide more room. He lets you do the rest, spurring you on with little nods and small breaths.

It’s not like you can see him, not when your eyes are pinched shut.

Luke wants to join you. His eyes threaten to close and submerge him in a void that would enhance every single feeling. But closing his eyes means getting rid of this sight. And he never wants to forget what you look like right now.

There’s sweat beading along your hairline and running down the side of your face. Your face is one of relaxation, save for the tiniest crease of concentration between your eyebrows. Luke can tell that you’re warm, and not just by the perspiration. But clearly his training has been paying off because your body doesn’t show fatigue. Your muscles are still taunt, your movements are still languid. You don’t show any plans of stopping anytime soon.

And at first, that’s what Luke wants.

There’s a few moments where he’s lost in oblivion. Where he pictures the worst thing in the world happening, and it’s you getting off of him. The feeling is so delicious, your centers grinding together, bumping clumsily yet still working in both of your favors.

He doesn’t want it ever to end.

And then he cums.

Again, he tries to hide the sounds he makes. But a groan rips through his throat, jumping out of his mouth and falling directly onto the fabric of your shirt when he rests his forehead against your chest.

He uses you as an anchor, his big hands gripping any part of you that he can find. He grips your clothes as he attempts to tether himself to the here and now.

He’s huffing, spent even though he did none of the work. Eventually, he lifts his head to search for your lips, but then he winces when you keep going.

He’s speaking in fragments. He’s trying to communicate his sensitivity. But you only shake your head, speeding your hips up a bit more.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry. I’m almost there. Swear, Luke. I swear…” and it’s just then that Luke is presented with the prettiest image he’s ever seen.

When his lips are numb and there’s a wet patch pressing against his sensitive cock in his briefs, Luke remembers the alcohol he has stashed within a bush.

He presents it, feeling that same sense of pride spread through his chest whenever you seem delighted at the options, even though it’s just a box of hard seltzer one of his brothers snuck in at the beginning of the summer. When you ask him what it took to secure it, Luke brushes it off, not wanting to remember the poop scooping he’d doomed himself to.

But the sight of you grinning before bringing the first sip of a cracked open can to your lips makes it all worth it.

When you pull it away a bead of clear liquid snags on the corner of your lips. Luke’s eyes watch it glide down your chin, and before he can stop himself he reaches a hand out, once again feeling that bravery, and swipes his thumb at the liquid.

He brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks it clean, surprisingly pleased at the flavor.

You both make your way through multiple cans, and it’s only when there’s a slight slur to your words and a sway to your frame that you ask Luke about your parents. And not about the stories you’ve been told throughout school, or the glorious recounts about how they’ve helped their kids. But the truth. About how Luke feels.

And he turns to you, smiling gently, and begins to tell you, becoming more and more pleased as you begin to express the same outrage as him.

He doesn't have to question if you'll be a valuable ally. He doesn't have to feed you carefully worded lines to twist your mind into siding with him.

With you, it's natural. The same as it is with him.

‎

It’s exactly a week later. Another capture the flag day created a certain buzz that flowed throughout camp.

Earlier this morning, Luke was concerned about winning. That was before he found himself in a similar position as he did weeks ago.

Standing next to you in a clearing, no other campers around to witness something that will certainly be a sight to behold.

Just like before, you’re standing over a camper with your sword raised over his frightened frame. He’s pleading, but his words are useless. They fall to deaf ears.

“No maiming!” He exclaims. “It’s the rules, remember?” His words are spoken with a stutter, the tremor in his voice extremely obvious.

Briefly, Luke looks over to you only to find you already looking at him.

You’re waiting, body tense, ready to attack. All you need is the command.

“Do it.”

There’s a rip and a scream, and Luke’s eyes don’t leave your frame.

He watches the splatter of blood meet your cheek and for once, Luke doesn’t reach over to wipe it away. He leaves it there, leaving the evidence behind as he cups your face delicately, spreading his fingers to miss the crimson, and then using his hold to pull you close and press his lips to yours.

Easily, quickly, you submit to him.

You two haven’t shared things in the most intimate form, not yet at least, but he doesn’t need that with you. Looking in your eyes, seeing that same look that he sees in himself, Luke knows that having your legs spread around his hips with euphoria isn’t the most necessary thing in the world. He would love for it to happen, and he will revel in it when it does happen, but he knows that fucking you isn’t needed to guarantee your loyalty to him.

As you submit to him, smelling of musk derived from hard work, the evidence of your effort on your face, Luke knows that he’s already secured it.

He has your loyalty.

And he can’t shake the excitement he feels towards your potential. Because he knows that the fire blazing deep inside of you can’t be contained for much longer.

He just hopes your internal fire continues to work in his favor and never against it.

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

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targaryenluvs · 11 months ago

Text

— meant to be

pairing: percy jackson x fem!gf!reader, dark!luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: as if it wasn’t enough for percy to be claimed much quicker than himself, he just had to be with luke’s dream girl. or the one where luke can’t seem to take his eyes off of percy’s girlfriend.

warnings: obsession, jealousy, pining, unrequited love, age gap (14/16 to bring it closer together so aged up percy n you) manipulation

wordcount: 850 words

a/n: heheh in the mood to drive luke to hate percy for having the girl he’s always wanted even though percy had her first - 5/01/24 it’s been brought to my attention the ages might be seen as odd, it’s meant to say you’re 14 and luke is 16 to make it more comfortable.

he didn’t deserve you at all, he wasn’t worthy.

luke could treat you better than a child. when you’d first arrived he couldn’t believe the fact that percy himself was your boyfriend. you were too gorgeous to be with such a clueless idiot.

so he tried his best to at least be your friend in the start.

always accompanying you from your cabin, to breakfast, somehow always ending up at the front of the line with as much food you could wish for. always enthralling you with tales of the time before you arrived. letting you know about the camp, the people, who to watch out for and who to be friends with.

as if he’d let you be with anyone else besides him.

during training he was always more than happy to help you, to teach you, to be close to you. fixing your posture, positioning you properly. he could imagine himself and you, his girlfriend, protecting and helping her. but his bubble was always burst when percy would make his way to you with a smile, talking about what he’d just learnt and the people he’d just met.

in the two days you’d been there you felt yourself trusting luke.

your sweet smile made everything better in his day, but he despised it when it wasn’t directed towards him. percy’s arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder, percy tying your hair up for you, your hands wiping the dust off of him when he fell.

luke wouldn’t have fallen, luke wasn’t that stupid.

luke could hold his own, whilst percy seemed to stumble his way through everything.

he had to hold himself back from strangling percy when walking with him. he was only aiding percy in finding his ‘special skill’ because you’d asked him to. and all luke learned from the experience was that percy was an imbelice. he couldn’t do anything right.

what on earth did you see in him?

you couldn’t sleep, thinking of your quest tomorrow. usually they were taken on by three but percy insisted on anabeth, grover and you. which you were glad for, grover was your friend as well as anabeth, you’d just hoped that all four of you will make it back.

the water was calm, you wondered if it was because of percy being sound asleep. did percy control the waters around him?

your silly questions ran through your head ever since your boyfriend had been claimed. yourself and percy were having the time of your life together, on a journey together. that night the two of you had sat right here, worries running around, the two of you reassuring eachother with promises of safety and return.

his sweet smile, his pretty curls, you loved him with your whole heart, even if you were young.

“y/n?” luke called out to you as you waved, “luke! come to say goodbye?” you teased as he laughed, “sadly yes, how are you feeling?” the night enveloped the two of you in darkness, eachothers presence comforting the other. “as fine as a girl about to go on a literal quest out of a damn movie would be.”

his arm came around you, pulling you into him, “what’re you doing?” you questioned luke, unsure of the close proximity. “it’s fine, calm down.” he pushed your head down into his shoulder, mimicking your earlier actions with percy, minus the love.

you lifted your head quickly, trying to stand up but luke dragged you back down, “get off! let me go luke, i want to go sleep.” his grip was harsh on your wrist, “stop shouting, do you want to make a fuss about the whole camp?” that shut you up quickly, you weren’t exactly in the mood to start up a scene in the middle of the night.

“why don’t you let me go then?” you whispered to him. “why are you going on the quest?” he asked, his eyes were darkened with anger, his tone unwelcoming, a clear juxtaposition to luke’s previous warm embrace of yourself and percy.

“percy wants me to, and i want to. that’s all anyone seems to wait for around here, glory.” he let go of your wrist, speaking with a soft voice, the entire change of his demeanour was off-puting. “shouldn’t you be enough? why does he want annabeth to come along?” you cocked your head to the side confused, “you of all people know how amazing she is, anabeth is the biggest asset to have and an incredible fighter luke.” he loved when you said his name but the sadness in your voice was evident and irritating, almost as much as your boyfriend.

“percy should trust you, believe in you to help him.” and the seed of doubt was in place successfully.

“i don’t know okay! but it’s not like i can stop it, goodnight luke.” you didn’t want to give him a chance to stop you, so you jogged back to your cabin, unsettled and confused.

luke slept nicely that night.

luke would make sure you saw him, all of him.

and how much better he was then percy, you were meant to be.

#pjo x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson x reader #yandere percy jackson #yandere!percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #dark!luke castellan x reader #yandere!luke castellan x reader

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angelribbon · 8 months ago

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CNC LUKE WHERE HE JUST FUCKS YOU WHIKE YOU SLEEP

tw: somnophilia, pre-established relationship, smut, dark!luke

a/n: Luke and his somno kink 😵‍💫💨😵‍💫💨

it’s 11pm when he wakes up, already feeling the strain of his cock against his boxers. he’s felt it before-vivid nightmares equal even more evocative wet dreams. Eyebrows furrowing as he gets up, every step worsening the throb in his stomach. Curfew being 3 hours ago-you’re asleep, more than likely and he sees this, knowing that he should turn right back around to his cabin but can you blame him?

you’re right there, so pretty and soft, letting out quiet, contented hums as he watches you through the window. the sight of your plush lips against the silk pillows worsening his need for them around his cock. so he does it, hoisting himself through the window beside your bed as your face contorts into something confused.

He goes still.

When you’re face relaxes, he’s right back on you, knees creating creases in your sheets as he positions himself behind you. he can’t take it anymore,never being one to resist temptation.

And he’d never have the strength to refuse the invitation that you pose.

He hikes up your dress, revealing your bare ass as he lets out a hiss.

No panties.

You have to be trying to kill him. He lets out his cock, the brush of the cool air making it twitch as he begins to rut against you. It starts out slow and controlled.

He’s trying to not to wake you, at least be considerate.

“L-luke?”

The second he hears your hazy,voice-all inhibitions are thrown out of his head as he picks up his pace, pre cum trickling down onto your thighs.

“makin’ me a fuckin” mess, baby” he mumbles, eyes turning dark as he taps his dick against your glistening pussy. “couldn’t even sleep, was dreaming of your pretty, little cunt”

He gives your clit a light pinch as you let out a whine. “‘S just me yeah? gonna let me use that pretty hole of yours, angel ?”

You let out a muffled whimper when he pushes all the way in-and he takes it as confirmation .

“‘like you’re made for me-christ ”

His hand moves to your mouth, fingers prodding your lips as he resists the urge to gag you with them instead choosing to use his hand to stifle your moans-your eyes flicker at the movement and you subconsciously tense around him.

“Never knew my girl was such-such a slut”

His expression grows almost enamored at how your squeezing him-tense, as he thrusts into you, balls slapping against your ass at his relentless pace. Hot, searing pleasure makes its way up your spine-emitting a low, almost inaudible,squeal from you as he pinches your clit. Your constantly on the edge, slipping in and out of consciousness from his assault on your cervix, harsh-angry thrusts punctuating his words.

“quiet, can’t wake up your friends now?”

Hes so mean for it, knowing its almost impossible to keep silent with his pace.

Stars dance across your tunneled vision, white blurring into a little galaxy in your head as you feel the tensing of your core, as you tiptoe the line, knowing how close you are to slipping into that pure, visceral release. Another slap is all it takes.

“m-maybe you want them to see you like this, being used like my good fuckin’ you”

Your eyes roll back, and he fucks your hips right back on him with his tight grip on them. Even when the rope breaks, and you’re pushed under-thighs shaking in illicit euphoria as you leak around him, he doesn’t stop. Like some rabid animal, he takes you back in-then out again with his movements-his thoughts becoming scrambled, accentuated with primal, violent pushes and pulls before he’s slamming back in you again as tears gather in your eyes.

“shit, just me yeah? got you, sweet girl” he mutters, but it’s like he’s saying it to himself as all you hear is ringing as he slam’s into you once again.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck-“

He’s close, sloppy movements giving you a perfect indication, as he bites his lip to stop a moan from coming out as he cums, spilling his seed into you as he stops, making sure you’re all stuffed with his seed. he pulls out of you lazily, unbeknownst to your unconscious body as you fall right back into dreamscape. Pulling back down your dress, he gives you a soft kiss before disappearing just as he came, your bunk mates none the wiser.

#zee writes ౨ৎ #luke catsellan x reader #dark! luke castellan #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #dark!luke castellan smut #[ love letters ఌ ]#tw somno #cnc somno

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hxmocrastic · 11 months ago

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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧 | HCS

Pairing ; {📺+📖} Luke Castellan x GN!Reader

Warnings ; Yandere, Stalking, Gaslighting, Fear of Abandonment, Imminent Kidnapping, Manipulation, Inferiority Complex, Emotional Abuse. ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP 18+

A/N ; Sorry I didn't respond directly to you anon, I accidentally posted this before it was finished and couldn't edit it 💀 But Enjoy!!

Luke is a Gaslighting, Guilt tripping, Boyfailure personified.

At first he takes up his signature friendly act and introduces himself to you first. He even offers to show you around camp !

To him, you're just so adorable. He loves how docile & compliant you are, how your sweet little chin nod's at his every word. You're just so fucking addicting, As soon as he saw you he knew he had to have you.

In order to get you alone & helpless, He'll start spreading false rumors of your parentage, Just to swoop in and shoo those pesky campers away. See? He's such a good boyfriend ! Why won't you look at him?

He'll even get you into some weaving classes, After all a sword is way too dangerous for someone like you. Don't worry about it! He knows what's best for you !

Luke will gladly take his time in wooing you. Slowly implanting little seeds in that cute little head of yours, Whispering things underneath his breath, Increasing physical contact, Even sending you gifts.

The last encounter he had with his father was a scar that will never heal, and a reminder that the gods see him and his siblings as nothing but cattle awaiting the slaughter.

Underestimated, Undermined, Luke always feels he has to go the extra mile prove himself. He thinks that in the eyes of his father he's worthless but in yours he has a purpose, He's a hero.

He'll do anything to keep up that facade, As he only wishes for you to see him in a glorified light. Isn't that what demigods fight for?? Glory,? It only makes sense that you'd love him too !

But truth is, Although he may sustain his benevolent friendly facade, He sees other's as emerging rivals. Whether it be in 'love' or Competition, He views them as competition.

All his life he'd felt powerless & helpless to the evils that robbed him of his childhood. Like his life wasn't his own, How he was always at the mercy of others whether it be the fates, monsters, or the gods themselves. He's never felt real control.

But at camp he feels like he has some control, some authority of his own. And not just of his own life but of other's too. He's finally at the other end of the stick.

Luke loves the power he has over the camp, how the girls & boys of Aphrodite cabin silently fawn at the slightest glance of his figure.

How his stare alone can send clarisse and her cabin trudging to the steps of their cabin like wet dogs. The power excites him.

But your arrival was different. He would've thought it'd be enough to constantly receive the admiration from camp but he desires more from you.

Luke doesn't just want you to favor him, He wants you to obey him. To hang on his every word. He wants you to worship him, To give him the adoration he would never receive from his bastard father.

This is where it gets dangerous. Once the Luke you knew to be a sweet and protective head counselor, He starts becoming a lot more domineering and unreasonably aggressive. And whenever you asks about, He slips back into his loving demeanor and reassures you softly that everything's alright, You're just seeing things that's all!

But you could've sworn you saw him scowling at your friends. Maybe you were just going crazy, it'd be the only reasonable explanation right? Who'd believe you if you said you heard Luke castellan speaking with another voice, right?

For your own safety, You stay quiet. You abide him and start slipping on a facade of your own. Just play along and you will be fine...

He's your hero, your knight in golden armor, Depend on him and solely on him why would you need anybody else?? Love him and only him, and just maybe your cabin mates will be safe. (Not)

#🏷️#tw yandere #yandere pjo #yandere headcanon #yandere percy jackson #male yandere #yandere #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson hc #tw dark content #x gn reader #gn reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson

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slu7formen · 6 months ago

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MDNI. dark!luke castellan x fem!reader

you get captured by luke castellan, but not for the main purpose you think it’s for

warnings: dark!luke ( finally ), evil luke, capture (?, reader’s a nemesis child, wounds, teasing, flirty luke 😏, swearing, manipulation, seduction, bl00d sucking (?

₊˚⊹♡

The air felt chilly against the bare skin of your arms. Cold stone pressed against the back of your thighs as you sat huddled on the floor, the air thick with the unmistakable tang of salt. You were likely trapped somewhere near the sea, that much was clear.

A throbbing pain pulsed in your head, a relentless echo of the knockout that had sent you into a temporary darkness.

You strained your ears, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic crash of waves against distant shores. And then, a slight noise. Fidgeting. Straining your eyes in the gloom, you made out the silhouette of a figure standing motionless on the other side of the cold, rusty, iron bars. The figure shifted, and a voice cut through the silence.

"Comfortable?"

Luke drawled. You didn't respond, a defiant silence swirling within you. You refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, darting your gaze away.

"No words?" he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Hm” he says, nodding. Luke's amusement morphed into a predatory glint. He walked closer to the bars, his movements deliberate, calculated. He crouched down, his frame lowering to your level on the floor dangerously. "I suppose you want this back" he said, his voice a low rumble.

He reached into the shadows beside him, producing a glint of metal. He tossed something through the bars, the object landing with a clatter at your feet. It was your dagger.

You didn't reach for it, though the urge to snatch the weapon and fight your way out was strong. But again, what would it be useful for now? Cut his fingers off? Instead, you locked your gaze on a spot beyond him, your jaw clenched tight.

Luke chuckled, as if your stubbornness was something he was having fun with, but his words pierced; “Are you deaf or just dumb?”

"Fuck you" you spat, your voice surprisingly steady.

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Wow, you can talk" he said, his voice laced with mock surprise. "What? Not happy to see me?"

His smile twisted into a smirk, the amusement returning to his eyes, but this time it held a cruel edge. You glared at him, refusing to back down. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to remain silent.

With a sigh, as if he was tired of you already, he reached through the bars. His hand, calloused and strong, clamped around your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. The touch was cold and unwelcome in your skin.

He studied your face silently for a moment, his eyes lingering on the split lip you'd acquired during your capture. "I see you know how to put up a fight" he remarked, his voice low and gravelly. His dark gaze scanned your features as he tilted your head sideways, lingering on a small cut marring your cheekbone.

He was obviously enjoying this. The powerful dynamic.

His thumb followed the trail of blood from your split lip, tracing it down your chin before slowly lifting. You watched, a mix of disgust and a strange fascination warring within you, as he brought his thumb to his own mouth. His tongue darted out, swiping away the crimson stain before retreating back into his mouth.

"Too bad you're not capable of forming a sentence" he commented dryly, his voice laced with a cruel humor that sent chills down your spine. "But you're pretty, I'll give you that."

You noticed the way his eyes snapped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. You clenched your jaw, a surge of defiance battling the fear that threatened to eat you. "What am I here for?" you blurted out, the need for answers overriding your cautious silence. "Why do you want me here?"

Luke seemed genuinely surprised for a moment. He leaned in closer, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied you with a newfound intensity. "Why do you think?" he stated blankly, his voice devoid of the earlier amusement.

"One of the Furies," you began, piecing together the fragments of your capture. "She said you'd be pleased to see me. That I was hard to catch. Why?" You pushed yourself closer to the bars, the need for understanding warring with the terror in your chest. "Why, out of all the demigods you could take, am I here?"

A slow chuckle escaped Luke's lips. He leaned back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the cave for a moment as if contemplating his answer. Finally, he sighed, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes.

"Well, let's just say..." he trailed off, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I've been looking for you for a while."

You scoffed. "Why?"

"Hm," he hummed, a sly smirk returning to his face. His hand reached through the bars once more, his finger working on placing a piece of your hair behind your ear, as if he was taking care of your appearance even in a moment so vulnerable like this.

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty?" he murmured, his voice a low, seductive whisper. His eyes held you captive, a dark intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul.

You jerked away from his touch, anger flaring within you. "Seriously, Luke," you spat. "I suppose you want me to join your army. But why? Why not take someone who's more powerful? More of a threat?"

A ghost of a smile played on Luke's lips. He reached out again sharply, surprising you, this time wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, holding you close to the bars.

"And who said you weren't powerful?" he countered, his voice surprisingly gentle despite his grip. "I know power when I see it, princess" he continued, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. "And you have more than you think you do."

You scoffed, a flicker of defiance igniting in your chest. "How are you so sure?" The question tumbled out, more of a challenge than a genuine inquiry.

His touch lingered on your neck, over your pulse. A single finger reached out, tilting your head back slightly for a deeper inspection.

"Because," he cooed, his voice surprisingly gentle for someone holding you captive. "I'm always right about these things."

His fingers, warm and calloused, began to trace a path up your cheekbone, eventually sinking into your hair. His touch sent conflicting signals through you – a primal fear warring with a strange sense of familiarity. The gentle massage of your scalp was a stark contrast to the harshness of your surroundings, a soothing melody amidst the chaos.

"You have your reasons, don't you?" he continued, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "You and your siblings – cast aside, ignored by the camp that should have put you under its wing? They haven't given you the chance to prove yourself as the warrior I know you are."

His words, laced with a deceptive sweetness, wormed their way into your ears. A flicker of truth resonated within them. Years of being ostracized at Camp Half-Blood, of being overlooked despite your relentless training, boiled up inside you. Luke's words, though spoken by the enemy, held a twisted validity and truth.

"You're strong" he continued, his voice a seductive melody. "And skilled. I've seen you." He leaned in closer. "And here, with me, I´ll give you that value." His voice was like poison, sweet and tempting, whispering empty promises into your brain.

It was like a starving person being offered a delicious feast, and your loyalty, your very identity, felt like the price of admission.

"Besides," he added casually, leaning back slightly, "I'm sure you'd prefer to stay once I tell you your half-brother's here."

Luke's smirk widened as he noticed the shift in your gaze. "Ah, yes" he hummed, drawing out the word for dramatic effect. "Ethan. A great warrior, I must say."

His fingers continued their absentminded exploration, tracing patterns along your scalp. The touch, though unwelcome, held a strange sense of comfort – a twisted echo of the affection you craved and had never received. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed.

"He told me a lot about you," he murmured, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fleeting moment before returning to your defiant stare. "We could say," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, "He's a little eager to see you."

You shook your head, the initial wave of surprise receding. "So that's why you wanted me?" you asked, your voice regaining its strength. "Just another little soldier to play with?"

Luke's face hardened for a moment, the playful facade slipping. “Tsk” he clicked his tongue, "It´s not that" he countered, his voice firm. "You're useful," he stated flatly, his voice cold once more. "You're worthy. But you´re blind to your own skills."

He paused, his gaze intense. "I want to show you your value," he whispered. "I want to show you the power you truly possess."

His hand moved again, his fingers wrapping a loose strand of your hair around his finger, tugging gently. "You´ll only grow stronger with each day under me" he continued, his voice low and seductive.

A flicker of vulnerability crossed your face, a flicker Luke noticed with a triumphant smirk. He was right. You couldn't deny the allure of his offer. Years of neglect at Camp Half-Blood had left a gaping hole in your heart, a yearning for recognition that gnawed at you constantly. There, wherever it is that he was, Luke offered a twisted form of acceptance, a chance to finally prove yourself.

He knew he had you on the ropes. He pulled you closer to the bars, the space between you shrinking to a mere breath.

"You'll explode your potential here, princess" he murmured, his voice a seductive rasp. "You'll never have to feel ignored ever again." And then, he smiled. "Not even by me" he added, the arrogance in his voice grating on your nerves.

Confusion clouded your mind. "What?"

Luke chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Some birdy told me you had a thing for me," he teased, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous amusement. "Is it true?"

His amusement was evident, a cruel glint dancing in his dark eyes. Memories swirled in your mind – a careless remark made to a friend, a fleeting crush held in the innocence and care of camp back then. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the shadows and escape his mocking gaze.

“Maybe not as much as you having a thing for me, but…” his fingers slowly traveled over the column of your neck, “more like you thinking I’m…” he hummed to himself as he thought of the word, “hot?” he finished, his grin widening with tease.

You remained silent, suddenly too aware of your own presence, and wanting to die of cringing. “See, that’s another reason why I wanted you here” he continued, “I already said it. You’re pretty” And then began a slow, agonizing torture.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, “With those lips,” he begins, “that pretty face,” he murmurs, his hand still trailing a path over your features. “those eyes, that hair...” he whispers, his fingers slowly moving back into your hair, tracing the length of it. But his praises didn’t stop there-

"That neck" he breathed out, needily. He used his thumb to tilt your chin upwards, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. You unconsciously let your eyes flutter shut.

He dared to trail his nails down your neck, a light scratch that sent goosebumps erupting across your skin. The touch, cruel and strangely arousing, left you breathless, stealing a little gasp from your lips.

He seemed to ignore you. "That perfect body" he stated, his voice low and husky, his eyes slowly traveling down your form. His gaze lingered on your curves, sending a flush of heat radiating from within you.

"You're like a little doll" he praised, as if he suddenly was possessed, under a spell. His words felt like a violation, a mockery of your strength and independence.

He let his index finger fall down your sternum, lingering provocatively at the dip between your collarbones, trailing a light path until it rested loosely against your chest.

"So beautiful" he rasped, his voice laced with desire. "So delicate."

He leaned just a bit closer. "Made to be touched. And I'm just the person to do it”

A strangled laugh escaped your lips, laced with a mix of disbelief and morbid amusement. "So what?" you scoffed, forcing your voice to remain steady despite the turmoil churning within you. "You want me as a warrior and-, yours?"

A sinister chuckle rumbled in his chest, sending shivers down your spine. "Now you're getting it, princess" he whispered, leaning closer so that his warm breath brushed against your cheek. "Be a soldier," he continued, each word a promise, a threat, a seduction rolled into one. "Let me train you. Let me unleash the potential you possess, and make them regret every time they overlooked you” he says.

He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a fiery intensity. "Let me," he breathed, his voice thick with unspoken desire, "let me touch you, and make you mine."

You remained silent, confusion and strangeness growing inside you. Oh how the tables have turned.

"You're a weapon" he breathed, his voice a near caress. "Sharp as a blade. You're meant to be trained, to be held." His voice dropped to a whisper, sending chills down your spine. "Your skills, your strengths, your body” He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory intensity. "By me."

His words hung heavy in the air, the unspoken threat clear. His grip tightened on the bars, knuckles turning white.

"And I want to hear every little sound that comes out of that pretty mouth you have" he added, his voice returning to its teasing tone. The lustful glint in his eyes was undeniable, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions.

"So, what will it be, angel?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Will you join the other side-, and become mine?"

He was playing you, of that you were certain. But a part of you, a part starved for validation, couldn't help but be swayed. The allure of power, the promise of respect, it all shimmered enticingly before you. And then there was him. The arrogant smirk, the possessiveness that both repelled and intrigued you.

The weight of the situation, the tangled mess of emotions, it was all too much to bear. You wanted it all. The glory of battle, the thrill of power, the acceptance you craved. And Luke, with his seductive promises and unsettling touch, offered it all on a silver platter.

“Yes?” Luke asked, your silence taking more time than necessary.

"Yes," you whispered, the word heavy with betrayal and a strange sense of liberation. "I'm on your side, Luke."

Silence descended, thick and heavy. Then, a slow, sinister smile crept across Luke's face.

"Good girl" he purred, his voice laced with a chilling satisfaction. "You know what's good for you-,

Welcome to the winning side”

winning side, lol

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sharararararara · 11 months ago

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Hi! Can I please ask you to make yandere Luke Castellan headcanons. Thanks in advance!

DARK LUKE CASTELLAN X READER HCS

Warnings: stalking, obsession, unwanted affection, gore(only a little nothing gruesome), contains spoilers.

Author's note: My first Percy Jackson and the Olympians fic, hope you like it!

-He probably started having feelings for you when you guys were sparring together.

-I say that maybe you beat him once and he was like "Yeah they're the one."

-Once he starts to like you, expect him to ask you to eat your breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him saying that he is bored and wants someone to talk to. ( Which is true, if you count wanting to talk to you only.)

-He gets jealous pretty easily, especially when you hang out with your half-siblings or friends.

-Let's say that you are friends with Percy. He would be extremely jealous. He would keep asking you "Why are you with him?" or gaslight you and say "Oh I'm not your friend anymore? That's fine. You probably like him more anyway."

-If you read the books, you know this man is insane.

-Imagine him in the books but 10x worse since he is obsessed with you.

-Imagine you are dating someone and in Capture the Flag, your lover is in the red team. Luke would take that advantage to beat the hell out of them and blame it on someone else.

-Even if that person was in his team, he would still beat them and will blame it to the opposite team.

-Luke loves you so much, why can't you see it?

-Sometimes(mostly) he wishes that it was only you and him in the world where there are no Gods and humans. Just you and him.

-He likes to train with you, saying that you might need it to defend yourself even though he only wanted to be closer with you.

-He thinks you are weak.

-He thinks that you are not supposed to fight and that he should be the one to protect you

-He would write love letters.

-Would gift you things like handmade friendship bracelets, or necklaces just to you show he is your boyfriend friend to other people.

-Just date him, he is too in love with you.

#luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere pjo #pjo #annabeth #clarisse #gover #luke #yandere #yandere fic #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson and the olympians #Dark Luke Castellan

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philokaliist · 10 months ago

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REQUESTING DARK!LUKE BC I NEED MORE FICS W HIMMMM. SO IMAGINE LUKE KIDNAPPING THE READER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND SHE'S JUST ALL MOODY/PISSED OFF ABT IT BUT CANT DO ANYTHING BC SHE'S CHAINED AND HER MOUTH IS COVERED SO SHE GLARES AT HIM? (FEM MC PLS BTW!)🤭🤭🤭

'Shadowed Descent'

(?)Dark!Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader

A/N:Hi lovely!Sure I can(or at least try),tysm for requesting!

As you lay in your bed, drifting on the cusp of sleep,the faint murmur of the forest outside lulled you into a false sense of security,until suddenly, you were jolted awake by a hand clamping over your mouth and a sharp, metallic scent assaulting your senses.

Before you could even register what was happening, you found yourself being dragged out of bed, your limbs bound tightly by coarse rope. Panic surged through you as you struggled against your captor, but it was futile. The figure dragging you through the darkness was strong, too strong for you to break free.

Finally, you were thrust into a dimly lit clearing, where the moonlight cast eerie shadows over the scene. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized with a sinking feeling that your captor was none other than Luke Castellan-The ever so famous hero turned traitor, his dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of malice and amusement.

"You!" you hissed, your voice muffled by the hand still covering your mouth.

Luke merely smirked in response, his grip tightening on your arm as he pulled you closer. "Shh, now, no need for all that noise," he purred, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

You shot him a withering glare, but he seemed unfazed, his smirk only growing wider. "Feisty, feisty," he chuckled, leaning in closer until his face was mere inches from yours. "I like that about you."

You tried to turn away, to escape his piercing gaze, but his hand tightened on your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. "You know," he continued, his voice dropping to a low whisper, "I've been watching you for a while now. You're different from the others. More... intriguing."

You squirmed under his gaze, a shiver running down your spine as his words sent a chill through you. "What do you want from me?" you demanded, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Luke's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes glittering with dark amusement. "Oh, darling, I want so much more than you could ever imagine," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "But for now, let's just say I have plans for you. Big plans..." to which you hissed "Plans?What.plans?!Castellan!"

Luke leans back slightly, his grin still lingering on his lips as he gazes at you with an enigmatic expression. "Let's just say they involve you being a part of something much bigger than yourself," he says cryptically, "But for now, it's best you focus on enjoying the moment,darling."

You watched in horror as he approached, his movements predatory as he traced a finger along your jawline.

"You're mine now," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

You spat at him, your defiance unyielding even in the face of danger. But Luke only chuckled darkly, his grip tightening around you as he pressed his lips against yours in a mocking kiss.

You struggled against your bonds, desperate to break free from his grasp, but it was no use. Luke held you firmly in place, his grip unyielding as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. "Sleep tight, sweetheart," he whispered,checking your bonds and making sure you couldn't move nor speak now,before disappearing into the darkness, leaving you alone and bound,with nothing but his laughter ringing in your ears.

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 10 months ago

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(Dark! LC) Loving You Hurts

Pairing: Dark Luke Castellan x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

SUMMARY: When Luke's jealousy gets out of hand.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship.

“We’re having a party tonight. You should come.” the blonde-haired boy walked with you as you collected your breakfast in a tray.

“I don’t know, Sam, maybe.” you keep your answer short, opting not to indulge into the conversation.

Luke’s stare feels obvious despite the physical distance between you, your boyfriend already seated at a table.

“C’mon, you never really come by anymore, not ever since you got with Luke. I know Clarisse will be thrilled to see you again.” he looked at you with hopeful eyes and you felt bad, knowing you’re letting all of your friends down - hanging out with them less and less.

“Luke can come too. And Chris, if he wants to.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head. You seriously doubted Luke would want to go. Sam seemed satisfied enough and after giving you the time and place, he left.

Stress got trapped in your throat when you walked to the table, taking a seat.

“Who was that guy?” Luke asked you nonchalantly, his eyes following Sam as he walked away.

“Luke, you know him. He’s my friend.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You sighed, fully aware of the interrogation he’s about to put you through. “Ares’ kid. One of Clarisse’s brothers.”

“What did he want?”

“Luke…”

“What? I’m just asking what he wanted.” he replies back, his eyes snapping at you with annoyance. “Now I can’t even ask what a strange guy had to say to my girlfriend?”

You stabbed the food in your plate, feeling your eyes becoming watery.

“He invited us to a party tonight.”

The scoff you received from Luke was loud enough to draw a few heads in your direction and you quickly captured a few slices of bacon, stuffing them in your mouth.

“Us? The way he was talking, it seems like he wanted to invite you. Since you’re his friend, right?” his voice had an edge to it, as if daring you to contradict but you stubbornly kept your attention to your food.

If you looked at him - at the angry frown he most certainly had on - you’d end up crying in front of everyone.

“Luke, please…” you supplicated, “Just let it go, please. I’m not going anyways, okay?”

He looked at you for a long moment, his brown eyes piercing through your soul as he took notice of the tears that were shining in your eyes. His gaze softened, hand reaching for yours.

“Okay.” he said, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I’m sorry.”

You should’ve known that Luke’s jealous streak would never be able to just let something go.

Any hopes of forgetting the situation were shattered when in the next day a fight broke loose at the camp. And of course, Luke was at the epicenter.

You weren’t around but your siblings told how hard Luke punched Sam, which resulted in a broken nose and bloody mess.

And of course that defending your friend resulted in another argument between you and Luke.

“Luke, you’re overreacting.” you pleaded, wanting nothing more than tug on your hair with the despair you were feeling.

“No, you’re being naive. You’re not seeing it the way I see it.”

“I just- I don’t get why you had to do this, Luke!”

“He did this to himself.” he retorted, his hand clenching with anger. “He talked about you, you know? How you deserve someone better.”

Your throat went dry as you gulped. Luke took a step towards you, murderous anger plastered in his face.

“You say he’s just a friend, but I know he wants more than that.” he spited the words, inching closer to you. “He wants to take my place. To be the one you love. But I’m not gonna let that happen, okay?”

His words dimmed into a hushed whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours, his ragged breaths contrasting with your lack of breathing as you held your breath.

“Luke…”

“I won’t let you go. We’re meant to be together, I know it.” he pressed a light kiss on your hairline, ignoring the single tear that escaped your eye.

“And if I have to kill whoever gets in our way, then so be it.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #dark luke castellan #dark luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere luke castellan x reader

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murdrdocs · 2 months ago

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darwinism

murdrtober oct 1. luke castellan description. you've always believed in survival of the fittest. but when things change about your nature and you're given extraordinary abilities, you take matters into your own hands. aka jennifer's body au

includes. SMUT 18+, size kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies DARK CONTENT; murder, succubi, unreliable narrator, southern coded reader (hating yankees and all), gore, gaslighting, god complex, bitchy and bratty reader

wc. 6666k

a/n: welcome to kinktober. hopefully you like it

There’s so much you can feel.

The cold summer air against your face and bare legs, wind whipping against your skin. The dull ache in your bones, a feeling similar to growing pains, steadily subsiding minute by minute. It pairs well with the deep, internal fire settled in your stomach, so hot that you feel like you’re fucking burning. You should be cold. You can’t even remember what it feels like to be cold. You can’t remember anything before this moment as you exist in a comatose state with tunnel vision and selective hearing accompanying you like old friends.

There’s a substance coating nearly every inch of visible skin. It pulls your skin taut. It feels like dirt, but it’s so dark out that it could be anything.

It smells metallic.

Then there’s so much you can’t feel. Your toes. Your fingers. The ground beneath your feet. Your intuition. Empathy.

You feel numb. Yet, you feel so alive. It’s addicting.

You continue to march towards the unknown, existing between two planes: one full of something that prickles under your skin, filled with eternal screams and pleads to be spared. The other full of the sun on your skin, hands clasped together to exert some of the giddiness, sore cheeks and even sorer bellies from laughter.

You wobble on your feet as they meet asphalt, moving on autopilot the entire time. You don’t need to think about where you are. You knew these roads by age ten, and drove them by age fifteen. These roads are your home.

They’re usually deserted at this hour, which is why you’re surprised by the sound of a car driving beside you. It goes slow, slow, and slower until it comes to a stop a few feet ahead of you, no more than twenty.

Before you even make it to the vehicle, the driver's side door opens. You don’t see who comes out, but you see a figure. It comes towards you, stopping just off to your side. You don’t look at him, staring straight ahead.

“Hey…” they say, their voice deep, a gentle timber. You turn your head, blinking twice until you can see the stranger as clearly as possible.

A boy, taller than you, with dark hair, and a strong jaw. You tilt your head, taking in everything that you can.

It doesn’t occur to you that you haven’t spoken to him yet until he raises his eyebrows, waving his hand in front of your face.

“Hey, what happened? Are you in shock?”

His eyes scan down your body.

“Shit,” he swears under his breath as he grabs your hands in his. For the first time, you can clearly see just how messy you are. The light from his car illuminates the deep color that coats your skin, the shadows beneath your fingernails. “We gotta get you to the hospital.”

Your hand wraps around his wrist in a quick jerk. You narrow your eyes, uncaring of the force you have behind the way you grab his wrist. “No,” you say.

“No? No hospitals?” He seems shocked at first, but there’s a bit of relief in his eyes as if he’s thankful that you can, in fact, speak.

You don’t say anything else after that.

The boy nods. “Okay. C’mon then.”

He pulls you towards his car by the hand you have around his wrist. He opens the passenger door for you, sets you in the vehicle, and doesn’t leave until he’s leaned over and snapped your seatbelt into place.

You notice how good he smells. If he notices the way you lean in to get a better whiff, he doesn’t mention it.

You are unsure of how much time has passed, but you come to when his car rolls into the driveway of a house you’ve never seen before. It’s new development, obviously. Everything about this neighborhood is too clean, too crisp. You feel out of place here. You wonder if he feels out of place in your town.

“C’mon,” he says, opening the door for you. He leads you up the stairs to his house with a small hand on your back and a reassurance that the two of you will be alone, for his mom is at work.

“Night shift,” he laughs a bit, the pathetic sound dying when you don’t return it. Have you ever known what it is like to laugh? You don’t think you could make the sound right now.

He leads you to the kitchen and tells you to sit on a cushioned barstool at the island. You do as told, but when he tells you to stay still since he’ll be back, you stand up as soon as he leaves.

There’s an unsatiated craving within you, a taste in your molars that’s both completely foreign and as familiar as your own face. The craving controls you, pushing your feet towards the fridge, holding your limbs up and contorting your fingers into a claw as you rifle through the cold contents.

You don’t know exactly what you’re craving until you have a slab of packaged raw meat in your hands.

You waste no time in dropping to your knees and tearing the plastic film off the styrofoam flat. Your fingers dig into the meat and you sigh at the feeling. You wish it were alive. Pulsing around your fingers, warm blood oozing through the punctures, pieces getting stuck beneath your manicured nails.

Closer and closer the slab reaches for your mouth, your teeth bared, your eyes lidded.

“My mom was saving that.”

You turn around, keeping your nails dug into the cold meat. You tilt your head, staring up at a boy. It takes you a second to remember his face, to remember anything past this moment. It’s the wavering smile he gives that reminds you.

He smiles like everything is fine. Like you aren’t crouched in front of cold lighting, covered in blood, ready to devour a piece of raw meat.

At first, you think he isn’t scared. You consider the option that he has seen more shit from whatever big city he’s from, and this small-town nonsense is nothing to him. But then you see the way the first-aid kid he holds in his hand shakes. You think you can distantly hear the fast thrum of his heart. You watch the way he licks his lips as his downturned eyes widen slightly.

You let the meat fall onto the floor, ignoring the sound it makes as it hits the linoleum.

He watches you take one slow step after the other until you stand right in front of him.

Staring up at him, you get your first real look. He’s illuminated now by a combination of lighting from the refrigerator, stove, and the streetlight peeking through the window, and you notice that he really is pretty. And he really does smell good.

This time, you make a show of sniffing him, drawing him in with a hand on either of his cheeks. You press the tip of your nose against his neck and drag it up towards his jaw, taking a dramatic inhale the entire time. His Adam’s apple bobs and you can audibly hear him gulp.

“Are you scared of me?” you ask him, speaking directly in his ear.

You don’t expect his hand to find your waist, but it does, nothing but a light touch at the denim waistband of your skirt.

He takes a second to respond. He breathes, a meticulous inhale and exhale. He swallows. He shakes his head just a bit.

“No. I’m not. You just need help.”

A push and his back hits the wall.

Wide eyes watch you back out through the back door.

You grin the entire time.

“Have the lights in here always been this bright?” You press your fingers into your temples and screw your eyes shut, thankful for the brief reprieve.

“Most people have said it’s too dark in here. We don’t even have fluorescents.”

You peak one eye open, fixing it directly onto Clarisse. She refuses to meet your eye, instead continuing to wipe down an already spotless counter. You open your other eye, cocking your hip to the side and pouting.

“What’s got your panties in such a twist?”

She finally stops, throwing the towel down onto the counter. She stares at you, her face fixed into one you easily recognize as annoyance. Clarisse wears annoyance the way most people wear general happiness.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Clarisse tucks a loose string of curls behind her ear. “You fucking left me last night. I was worried about you. And you just went home without at least telling me if you were okay or something.”

You roll your eyes. Really, she’s making a big deal out of nothing.

“I’m fine, Clarisse. See?” You throw your arms out, spinning around in a circle for Clarisse to freely analyze you. You know there’s not a single scar, not a single spec of blood lingering on your body. You look as pure as a virgin even though evil lurks beneath your skin, unknown to anyone other than yourself. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

You can see Clarisse acquiesce. She still looks pissed, but that’s her resting face. She picks the towel back up and continues to wipe down the counter.

“What happened to you anyway?”

“Dunno. I kinda blacked out and came to when I got home.”

“You walked?”

Mostly…

“Yeah. My feet are killing me.” Lie. You’ve never felt better.

Clarisse shakes her head but whatever she has to say, she doesn’t say it.

The bell above the door jingles.

“Out of the way, there’s a customer.”

You slink off to the back of the bakery, sitting in a pulled-out chair beside the window.

“Oh … are y'all open?”

The same stranger from last night stands at the door, staring straight at Clarisse. Today, he’s joined by a little girl at his side.

You can see something not customer-friendly brew behind Clarisse’s eyes, daring to climb down to her mouth and spit itself at him. But she pulls her mouth into a line and nods. Maybe it’s for the little girl’s sake.

“We’re open.”

The stranger walks to the counter, the girl following his footsteps. Clarisse sends you a look over his shoulder. You can read it perfectly, even dulled down and unaccompanied by words.

Why would he ask if we were open when the ‘open’ sign is on and the hours are posted?

You watch his back the entire time, freely listening in on their conversation. He tells Clarisse that he has a pickup under Castellan. Clarisse leaves and goes to the back, leaving the boy to tell the girl that no, he isn’t buying her a cookie. She gets fed up, asks for the keys, and then walks off to the car.

You sit there, staring at your nails, admiring how healthy and strong they look, when he turns around.

“Oh,” he says, “Hey.”

“Hi…?”

The stranger stands straighter. He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“It’s me … from last night …. Remember?”

You squint, tilting your head as if you’re thinking.

Luke continues. “I gave you a ride back to my house. You were covered in blood. You looked like you had gotten beat up or shot or something.”

“Why would I have been covered in blood?”

The stranger shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to ask questions before you were tripping out of the door. You tried to eat my mom's ribeye.”

You hum unconvincingly. “Doesn’t sound like me. I don’t even eat red meat.”

The stranger's mouth drops open, his eyes narrowing as he looks around the bakery. He appears to be looking for something, maybe an answer to whatever question that is brewing behind his head. It’s subtle, but you can tell you’re getting under his skin. It’s fun to see how frazzled he’s getting over this. He starts stuttering, barely getting two words out before he tries again.

You decide to put him out of his misery. “Look …?” you pause, waiting for a name.

“Luke,” he says.

“Luke,” you grin, enjoying the way the syllables feel in your mouth. “I don’t remember any of this. Sorry.” The apology is completely insincere from you. You sound patronizing like you’re talking down to a little kid.

Before Luke can get another word in, Clarisse is back. She places his order on the counter, clicks a few buttons on the register, and presents his total.

You use the time to sneak out, waving to Clarisse as you leave. You pass by the little girl as you leave. She sits in the same seat you sat in the night before. She watches you leave, her eyes calculating like she’s trying to figure something out.

You really need a meal.

Screams as flesh tears. Blood spurting out of puncture wounds. It’s warm on your tongue as it slides down your throat, heating you up from the inside out.

He tastes better than the last one. It didn’t occur to you that they would have different flavors, notes that hit different spots of your tongue and molars. You hum around the flavor of him. You wonder what the next one will taste like.

“You okay?”

Luke watches your body tense and then loosen. He hears you swear under your breath as if the sound of his voice is nothing but a burden to you.

You turn around to face him and Luke could’ve predicted the face you make. He did predict it, actually. The pout on your lips, the slight squint in your eyes, the tilt of your head. You even place your hands over your hips and cock them out.

“Are you stalking me or something?”

Luke would be offended, but he’s come to learn things about you now. He knows you like to do that, throw a half-assed assumption toward whoever is on the other side of your wrath. Luke thinks you do it to deflect from yourself, but it hasn’t worked on him yet. He’s becoming more and more intrigued by you as the days go by.

“It’s a small town, isn’t it?”

You shrug and turn back around to the pump, watching the gas meter count further up.

Luke doesn’t let it go. He clicks the 93-octane level and sticks the nozzle into the fuel tank. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t usually answer dumb questions.”

Luke makes a sound akin to a chuckle, just without much of the humor behind it.

“Just wondering because you’re looking a little sick. You’re paler than you were the last time I saw you. Bags under your eyes … they’re beginning to sink in, by the way. The same goes for your cheeks. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were sick. Maybe something bad.”

The handle of the nozzle clicks and you take it out of your car, sticking it back into the pump. You could leave right now, but you take the time to turn around and look at him.

“Do you know better?”

Luke shrugs. He doesn’t mind this little game of cat and mouse he’s playing with you. It’s much better than the mundane questions he’s had to answer since coming here.

Where are you from? No, where are you really from?

Are you going to the technical school in the city? No? What about state?

What church do you go to?

You haven’t asked a single one of those questions. Granted, he’s only spoken to you thrice, and once was when you were practically comatose. But still, he’ll take it.

The pump clicks behind him and Luke takes that as his cue.

“I don’t know,” he tells you, a grin spreading across his face. “You tell me.”

You’ve adjusted pretty well to your new life. The hours are odd, leaving you wide awake at night with the metallic taste of blood still stuck in your molars. Come morning you’re exhausted, barely able to stand up straight.

Clarisse leaves you messages on the landline. Calling you a recluse, wondering when you two were going to hang out again in the least clingy, most nonchalant way she can manage. She won’t say it outright, but you can tell she’s worried about you. You don’t understand why.

You’re the healthiest you’ve ever been. Your skin shines like it did when you were younger. You haven’t had any aches in your body for the longest. As the weather cools down, everyone prepares themselves for whatever illness will sweep through the air this time, but you don’t have to. Even when your mom had the flu and you nursed her back to health, you didn’t get sick.

You’re immune. You’re a god, and no one else seems to see it.

To everyone else, you’re different, and not in a good way. They don’t see what you’ve been doing for this town, how you’ve been cleansing it one body at a time. If guilt tries to eat away at you, you just remind yourself that you’re doing good with the cards that you’ve been dealt.

You didn’t ask for this, but you don’t hate it.

When you open your front door, Luke Castellan is standing on your porch, his hand raised towards your doorbell as if he were about to press it.

You aren’t shocked to see him. You’ve been getting too lucky recently, able to go out for hours at a time without running into someone from the Castellan family. Either Luke, his sister with her small group of friends, a kid you used to babysit among them, or Luke’s mom, who smiles at you like you have a thing with her son.

You expected to run into him at least once today. There was a feeling, like the hairs on the back of your neck were preparing to stand up, warning you that fate or God or whatever is out there was trying to mess with you. Putting him in front of your face, taunting you with something so annoying. You don’t know why you don’t get it over with already, seduce him with the ease that you have seduced everyone else. His smell has been haunting you since that first night anyway. You want it, there’s no point in pretending that you don’t.

You’ll do it today. Yes, right now.

It’s still day out, but the sun will be setting soon. Most people are still working, your mom included, and your neighbors shouldn’t be coming home anytime soon. Just to be safe, you’ll take him out back into the woods, towards the treehouse Clarisse’s dad built for you both when you were 10, just six months before he left.

Clarisse is still pissed at you so it’s unlikely that she’ll be there.

You try to scratch the scowl off of your face, propping your hip into the doorframe and trying to look somewhat inviting.

“Hi,” you say.

Luke doesn’t waste any time returning your greeting. “I know it was you.”

God, it’s so hard not to fall into the same routine as usual. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.” He takes a step closer and stares down at you. You’ve never realized how tall he is. You never realized how buff he is, either. He’s wearing a dark short-sleeved shirt. It fits well over his chest and biceps, drawing your attention there as he towers over you.

“Do you wanna know how I know?”

Your eyebrows lift, waiting for him to continue.

“Clarisse told me everything. How you ditched her at a house party just outside of town to hang out with a guy. Some guy you had a big crush on when you were younger, right?” He’s right, but you try not to let it show. He continues, “My little sister helped me look some things up, all of your symptoms starting with the comatose state you were in that first night. Then the raw meat cravings, the mood boosts and drops. At first we thought it was drugs. Not unusual for people in small towns like these.

“Until Annabeth talked to one of her friends, and from word-to-mouth we found out that the guy you hung out with had a friend with him, didn’t he? He got away and he didn’t stop. He ran his mouth, told a few people what they did to you, and then tried to do what they did to you to another girl. So you killed him.”

You suck in a breath, ignoring the twitch in your fingers, the goosebumps on your arms. “What are you getting at? What am I, Luke?”

You expect to hear the words for him. A name that you thought was simply a myth, nothing but supernatural folklore until it happened to you.

“You’re a god.” The way he says it, his face splitting into a grin, a genuine one. Like he’s amazed by you. Like you’re his idol, someone he’s looked up to since a young age.

You’ve never felt so seen, so understood. It’s only natural that you press your lips to his.

Up until now, you’ve lived off of fear. You liked seeing their eyes widen when they realized what you were and what you were going to do to them. You liked to press your hand to their chests and feel the fast thrum of their hearts beneath your palm.

You don’t need that with him.

You like the way Luke’s eyes get heavy, staring down at you between small breaks in moving your lips together. You like how his heart beats fast, but not with fear, beneath your hand when you slide it up his shirt.

He’s so toned beneath your fingers. You bet he’s beautiful beneath this.

“Let’s go outside,” you urge because that’s where you’ve always done it. Outside with nothing but nature to bear witness to the atrocities you commit. You’re more comfortable outside. Your newly inhuman nature seems to fit better in the forest, digging your nails into the dirt, accumulating scratches and scrapes that heal as soon as they’re there. You didn’t have to clean up anything when you were outside, leaving the bodies there to be found by whatever search party was launched this time.

It doesn’t occur to you that you don’t need to do any of this with Luke until he shakes his head, holding your cheeks between two large palms. “No. Upstairs. In your bed.”

You hesitate, taking a moment to figure out which road you want to go down. Will Luke be just like the others? Left as nothing but a body to be found, his family struggling to identify him when so many of his features are skewed and missing? Or could Luke be something different?

He’s new, already unlike the same boys you’ve spent your entire life knowing. He hasn’t hit on you while oozing unwanted vulgarity.

You fist the bottom of Luke’s shirt in one hand and pull him up the stairs. You trip in your hurry and Luke attempts to catch you, giggling under his breath as he holds your hips the rest of the way.

You don’t bother shutting the door when you reach your room. You just turn around, wrap your hands around Luke’s neck, and pull him down to meet your lips. He’s still so much taller than you, even when he’s leaning down.

Your bodies end up curling into each other—chest to chest, your back arched as Luke’s curves. He holds you close with an arm slung around the middle of your back and a hand on the back of your head.

You’ve never been kissed like this, like the person kissing you is doing it for you, and not for themselves. Luke kisses like he means it, like he wants you, and he doesn’t just want you to want him. He doesn’t kiss in that same egotistical way that you’ve been kissed before. Boys who kissed like they thought they were good kissers.

Luke kisses romantically.

He kisses in a way that makes you want this forever.

He’s romantic, but he’s not soft. He doesn’t treat you like you’re going to break. He digs his fingers into the back of your head, pulling your mouth right onto his. Your tongues search for the others, missing each other every so often; poking into the corners of your mouths, sliding over teeth.

You’re fisting his shirt with such intensity that you fear you’ll break it. Your nails dig into the soft fabric, threatening to tear it into pieces. Luke pulls away from you for a moment, heavy breaths coming from between his parted lips. His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip—the flushed color matching the one on his cheeks—and nods his head.

“Go ahead. Do it.”

You pull his shirt apart into two with one satisfying rip. Luke throws it off the rest of the way, and he’s left shirtless standing in front of you.

He’s unnecessarily buff. Unnecessarily gorgeous standing before you. He must have Greek roots in his blood, there’s no way someone this pretty wouldn’t.

You press your hands into his chest and glide your palms down the ripples of muscle. You let your hand wander further down until you’re cupping the print of his dick, already taking shape beneath the sturdy denim of his jeans. His eyes flutter closed and his frame starts to slump forward a bit. You know you can get more of a reaction out of him with a little more work.

His belt buckle clinks as you undo it, the leather audibly shuffles against itself and the denim as you tug it out of the loops. You throw it to the ground with his torn shirt, a piece of fabric you briefly mourn. You hope he has shirts that fit him even half as well as that one did. But if he does, the fate will likely be the same.

You glance down at the opening you’ve created. You can see the print of Luke’s dick pressing into his checkered briefs, straining against the fabric. You think you can see a dark mark made at the end of him, but you aren’t sure.

You don’t focus on any of that when you wrap your hand around the length of him. Luke sighs at the first feeling of contact, even though there’s a layer between. You sigh at the feeling, too, a fire ignited by the warmth in your hand.

Luke lets you palm him for a short while. His forehead resting against yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his frame somehow equal parts lax and rigid as it stands before you.

Just when you go to give him—and yourself—more, Luke stops you. He wraps his free hand around your wrist before you can dig your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, leaving your nails dumbly scratching into the sparse hairs that make up his happy trail.

“Luke?” you ask, mentally begging that he won’t ask you to stop. You can feel that doing this with him will be different, and you want to get that far. You want to give it a shot, introduce something new to your system before you continue down a road you’ll never be able to come back from. Maybe, in some way, Luke can provide a way out for you. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

He breathes deeply, his nostrils moving with the movement. It takes him a moment to look at you, to open his eyes as they’ve been shut ever since you first touched him. But when he does, he just stares at you, dark eyes darker than they were before, deep eyelashes perfectly framing his gaze.

“I’m okay. Just … lemme be the one to do it first, alright?”

His hands spread over your waist, fingers hooking into the belt loops of your skirt. He steers you back towards your bed, letting you sit down on your own without any intervention. You stare up at him, watching him watch you. You notice the soft hunger in his eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the veins in his arms becoming more prominent as he cracks his knuckles.

For the first time in a while, you feel meek. Staring up at Luke with your hands in your lap, instinctively picking at the remains of dirt beneath your nails, waiting for him to do something, anything. But he just stands, posture straight, arms down by his sides. His eyes trail up your entire body, starting from the heart print socks on your teeth, all the way up to the way your hair sits on your head. Only when he’s gotten a thorough look does his eyes flicker to meet yours.

He smiles, a look that looks more insidious than it does comforting. To the average person, it would probably be alarming. To you it’s thrilling.

He sinks to the ground, knees hitting the floor. You watch the entire time.

He takes your socks off, placing them onto the floor, devoid of any particular order. His hands wrap around your ankles and glide up your legs until he reaches your kneecaps. With one hand over each, Luke waits. You think he’ll pull your legs apart, push your skirt up, and slip your panties off. Instead, he trails his touch up the top of your thighs until he reaches your waist.

“Lay back,” he tells you. You obey without a second thought.

Luke continues to undress you until you lay beneath him in nothing but your underwear. He tells you to move up the bed, and he follows you when you do. He sits between your spread legs, resting on his haunches in nothing but his boxer briefs. He just sits. The two of you just sit together and breathe.

It begins to feel meditative in a way, sitting in a silent room only full of the soft breaths that the two of you need to live. It’s like you’re living together in this brief moment. Like you’re alive together.

You initially expected to feel elevated upon the first touch with real intent that Luke gave you, and you do feel elevated, elated, even, but this moment doesn’t hold more influence than the moment the two of you had before.

Still, you’re grateful for Luke’s fingers moving toward your center. You make more room for him, even though it’s unnecessary, as his fingertips inch closer and closer toward your panties. He moves slowly, but not hesitantly. Instead, he’s savoring his time.

His fingertips reach beneath the waistband of your panties, he tugs them over your hip bones and down your thighs, delivering the same fate that the rest of your clothes had gotten before this. And as soon as you’re bare before him, he doesn’t waste any more time.

He brings his face level with your cunt and licks a long stripe as if he’s testing the taste, and then he devours you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. Luke pleasures you like it’s what he was made to do and he’s finally found his one true purpose.

He hooks his hands under your thighs and hoists your legs over his shoulders. He doesn’t just use his mouth, but the eternity of the bottom half of his face. He’s not afraid of getting messy, the tip of his perky nose and the protruding part of his chin getting involved in it as well. He doesn’t bother coming up for air much, but the couple of times that he does, you see just how much you glisten on his face.

You’re writhing around above him. It’s like you’re having an exorcism, your body contorting, your chest reaching for the sky, your voice cracking, and your throat graveling as you make sounds you’ve never made before, even while you were being turned.

You fist your hands into Luke’s curls with an intended force, but he doesn’t say anything. He groans, his eyebrows pushing together, but the look doesn’t appear to be one of pain. You feel his lips part around your cunt, you feel the gust of air he lets out against you, and then you notice the subtle shift of his hips into the mattress.

He’s getting off from just this.

You’ve never needed a guy more.

“Luke,” you try to get his attention, grabbing his locks and attempting to pull him up. He doesn’t budge. “Luke,” you try again, still to no avail.

“Luke. I want you in me,” you tell him between gasps and moans, trying desperately to pull yourself off of him. He does it for you, taking his lips away from your pussy to stare up at you.

He licks his lips clean without hesitance. “No.”

“No?” And suddenly he’s pissing you off once more.

Luke repeats himself. “No. Not yet. Not until I make you cum like this.”

And then he goes back to it without any further comment. He doesn’t leave room for arguing, no room for conversation. He just eats you out with more vigor, more determination.

He quickly gets what he wants and he sucks up every drop of it appreciatively.

Just after that, you get what you want.

Luke doesn’t say anything when you maneuver him to lie on his back. He doesn’t protest when you pull his boxers down to the middle of his thighs and then straddle his hips. He doesn’t suggest the use of a condom, he doesn’t tell you to slow down, he just lays back with one hand tucked under his head and the other resting on your hip.

He watches you guide yourself down onto his cock, held still with a firm hand from you. His jaw clenches and his nostrils flare at the first feeling of the tip of his dick spearheading the journey into you.

His eyes flicker between watching himself disappear into you and watching your face as you take it like a champ. There’s barely any hesitation from you, likely because you’ve been so eager to have this. You hadn’t necessarily thought about this much before, nothing but subconscious want that you refused to spare a thought on. But ever since you allowed room for those thoughts to exist, you’ve longed for just this very moment, the feeling of Luke filling you up with unexpected satisfaction.

Luke’s in you to the hilt for all of a second before you’re moving. Falling into a role you know well, you lift and sink your hips, grinding from deep in the pelvis whenever you can. Leadership comes to you naturally, there’s no second-guessing yourself in these movements. You know what to do, you know what Luke will like, and you know it well.

You keep your hands on his abdomen, feeling the breaths he takes beneath your capable hands, taking into account his muscles tensing when you clench around him.

You know it feels good for him, but you still ask, “Does that feel good, Luke?”

He lolls his head to the side and lazily watches you work. He doesn’t answer for a while, but you give him time, continuing to do exactly what you’re doing in the meantime. Eventually, he nods.

“Uh-huh.”

He sounds fucked out. A little dumb, too. It’s hot.

You speed up, decide not to waste any time finishing Luke off, and hopefully yourself too.

Luke’s hand ends up on your cunt, his thumb pressed into your clit, swirling circles in time with the speed of your hips.

It suddenly occurs to you that the two of you have conflicting interests. Luke wants to make you come, while you want to make him come. You’re sure deep down the two of you have the same goal, but the forefront of motivation differs. You’re not backing down, even if it’ll work in your favor. Selflessness possesses you for the first time in years and you pull Luke’s hand away, leaning forward and pressing your weight into it until his hand sticks to the bed. You don’t say anything, you just stare at him while you continue to ride him like your already-ended-life depends on it.

When Luke cums, he’s looking you right in the eye, allowing you to see every single thought as it flashes through his mind.

You can’t focus on it for too long, though, because you’re following suit directly after.

You’re twitching on top of him, your cunt spasming, your head thrown back, your abdomen tensing and relaxing.

This feeling is different.

It’s euphoric. It’s more than an orgasm, more than being stuffed full of Luke’s cum, plugged by his cock.

You feel fulfilled in a way you never have before. When you consumed the others, the satisfaction was superficial, never deep enough to complete you. With Luke, you feel complete. You want more.

You start rocking your hips back and forth.

“Woah.” Luke’s voice is rough, vibrating in his throat as it comes up to meet your ears. “Slow down,” he tells you, his hands on your hips. His grip isn’t as strong as it was earlier, but you still place your hands on top of his, fearing that he’ll make you stop.

You stare down at him, your eyebrows pinched together. You whine his name.

He nods, sucking in a sharp breath when you raise yourself up, just to lower back down. “I know, I know. Just … I’m gonna need a minute, alright? Here,” he sits up, beginning to tug you up. When you don’t cooperate, he lifts his eyebrows, a warning clearly right there on his face. You don’t want to, but you get off of him.

He flips you both over, hovering over your body for all of a second before he kisses down your torso.

“No, no, Luke, not again. ‘s not what I want. I want you.”

“And you’re getting me, aren’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow, tilting his head and giving you a look that dares you to test him. You really want to, but this fog in your head is keeping you submissive, keeping you at his mercy.

“Not in the ways that I want. You know what I mean, don't be an ass about it.”

He snickers but doesn’t change his course. “I promise you, baby, I’ll give you what you want. Just on my terms too, okay? We’re a team now, you got that?”

You stare down at him as your heart blooms in your chest with a feeling you’ve never felt before.

“Yeah. Okay.”

You’re a team.

There’s blood coating you, drying your skin, pulling it taut. You sit in the passenger seat of Luke’s jeep, much about this similar to the first night.

The freezing cold temperature both inside the car and out, the destruction done to your body and outfit, the carnage left behind for someone to find. But things are different about this, too. The hand you hold over the center console, the control you have over the music that plays, the fullness you feel, completely unrelated to the feeding you’ve had to partake in. It was the first in months, necessary for your survival, but no longer the main contributor. Not since you’ve been getting something completely different from Luke.

You’re addicted to him, constantly overindulging until he’s spent and you’re just entering that same territory. But he’s begun to expect it, your insatiable qualities as integral to your person as your favorite artist. Luke knows your quirks now. He knows what it means when you turn down the music, look over at him, and grin with a twinkle in your eyes.

He pulls over into an empty parking lot and lets you climb into the backseat while he walks around.

There’s nothing wrong with feeding twice in one night.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #murdrtober 2024 #icarus writes pjo #tw dark content #tw dark themes

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targaryenluvs · 11 months ago

Text

— newcomer

pairing: dark!luke castellan x childofaphrodite!reader

summary: luke becomes quite infatuated with you, the newcomer of the camp.

tw: obsession, stalking, distancing from friends, intimidation, luke is like deep in love, my horrible attempt at describing love? kinda lovebomby, mentions of violence/luke attacking others

word count: 1k words

a/n: my second pjo fic! i think percy is next 👀 - i don’t think i outright described a female reader, let me know if i did so i can change it!! i i’m going to try and be more inconspicuous with genders to fit all ❤️

right from the start, luke could tell there was something special about you.

of course he was to introduce himself to the new kids but for once he wanted to meet you. with a warm smile and his reassuring words, you were made to feel at home quite quickly.

you’d thought of luke being friendly in general before learning of the hermes cabin and his welcoming nature, but it didn’t seem to change anything between the two of you. luke was an excellent guide in your eyes, helping you settle into your new life, you were undeniably thankful for him.

he was a pitstop for many, if not all campers once they entered the place, a familiar face to help them all. but for you he seemed to go above and beyond. he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, and he believed himself to be the key in your life at camp half-blood to happiness. you made him happy.

your bright smile and endearing personality melted his heart, you were a breath of fresh air and he couldn’t wait to bask in it.

even after you were claimed, by aphrodite nonetheless, you stuck around. it made sense to him, you were the most breathtaking person he’d ever seen. whether it was a smile from afar or a long conversation, you always made it a point in your day to spend time with him.

you wouldn’t do that for nobody now would you?

no, your sweet self was kind, especially to him. you liked him, like he liked you, and he’d be damned if he let you go.

you seemed to be the only person who didn’t notice his disdain towards those around you. the way he’d linger around the ares boy who’d been chatting you up at breakfast, the same boy who’d been attacked from behind during capture the flag, suffering a nasty slice on his back.

or how he’d humiliated one of your friends during archery, correcting their stance, taunting their attempts to hit the bullseye, throwing them off and laughing at them when they missed. it was all in good fun, right?

he was like a shadow, unwavering and lurking.

it wasn’t uncommon to find luke a few metres away from wherever you were. to find him accompanying you to dinner, to find the two of you practicing together early in the morning, alone, to focus better of course. slowly but surely he wriggled his way back into your life, all consuming and prominent.

until it was seen as odd to find you alone.

seemingly tied together, woven, meant to be. you completed him, you made him feel alive. you made luke feel electric, on fire almost. your presence and touch began to comfort him most, your voice being the only one to bring him down.

and when you were taken from him, whether by others or in general, he was unbearable.

the shining luke castellan crumbled without his support. he needed you, depended on you, like fire and oxygen, plants and sunlight, a song and dance. you kept him going, you filled his life with purpose, he wasn’t luke castellan, son of hermes, counseller, confidante, friend.

he was lu, he was yours, he was your ‘sunshine’.

and as if he wasn’t already insatiable with you as his friend, when you’d admitted your crush on him, luke was on a whole other level.

“lu,” he hummed, turning his head your way, “i want, i need to tell you something.” the soft grass, the warm sun and gentle breeze, they all calmed his erratic heart. what did you have to say? he despised the idea of not knowing what you were thinking.

luke waited with bated breath, his nails digging into his palm, pressure building, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, not that you’d notice, he wouldn’t let you. “what is it sweetheart?” the two of you were sitting now, previously laid next to eachother on the picnic blanket.

“i think, i think i like you.”

and how could you not?

luke was the epitome of a gentleman, the kindest man you’d ever met. he made you feel special, you could always rely on your sunshine. in the months the two of you had known each other, it seemed he now knew you like the back of his hand. what you liked, what you disliked, the places you wanted to go and the places you’d been. you’d bared your soul to him, and you could only pray he loved you as you did him.

he was your strength, your courage, your friend, even if you hoped for more. he’d been there for you since the start, and you’d be forever grateful. so why not raise your relationship? fully commit to the one person who knew everything?

he’d crafted himself to be yours, to be everything you could ever wish for, as you were for him. luke had been waiting for your complete devotion, and he had it now, no one could make him let go. people often came and went in his life, leaving him in the past, he often felt taken advantage of, he gave up on the idea of someone to stay.

but you’d stay, blind with devotion and poisoned by his love, who on earth and in the heavens could treat you better than him?

your loyal luke.

“well i have a secret for you, only you.”

your eyes lifted to meet his, a small smile on your lips, “tell me luke,” his hand reached for yours, “what’s your secret?” your favourite flower, suddenly pulled from behind your head, placed behind your ear.

“i love you too.” he surged forwards, capturing you by surprise.

was this bliss? is this what it felt to be in love?

luke was intoxicating, his strong hands and loving voice, it consumed you. it was all so much, and it was all you’d ever wanted.

but a small voice in the back of your head was prominent.

you’d never said a single thing about love.

#percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem!reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere!luke castellan x reader #dark!luke castellan x reader

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angelribbon · 8 months ago

Text

𝓔AT YOUR YOUNG ೨౿ luke castellan

content warning : dark!luke, kidnapping, smut, cursing, innocence kink, daughter of aphrodite!reader, stalking/obsessive behaviors, violence, 18+ content ྀི in which luke thinks you can fix him

There's a greed that arises from hatred or rather from envy.

Insatiable, no matter how many tries he attempts to satiate the huger that claws at him. He's empty, wafting through camp like a ghost because really? he doesnt think he's ever really been there. His minds somewhere else, the only thing bringing him down to earth is the rush he gets from sword fighting.

He's volatile, even, like a ticking time bomb, the sound revolving in his head, relentlessly. Its louder when he forgets the hypocrisy, the rejection and for a second? something sick like sympathy snakes into his mind. His hand traces over his scar on instinct because if he presses hard enough? It burns-stings.

And eradicates any solicitude he thought he had.

Tick. Tock.

Campfires were never luke's thing. He sits towards the back, eyes downcast and shadows coveting him due to the flame. His hands drum against backbiter, something he uses to keep himself busy until he can go back to the cabin. The orange hues that bring him back so much so, that he quickly averts his gaze.

Tick.

His fingers trace the line of his sword, and he swallows. He'll be gone soon enough. Laughter echoes in his head at that statement, but he ignores it.

Tock.

Luke's mind is buzzing, thoughts spiraling like his head has a heartbeat. It drives him mad. He's about to leave, sneak and tell some lie to Chiron about forgetting to lock up the stables. Anything, if he can just get out. He walks, caught so much in his head, he doesnt see where hes going.

And walks right into you.

You stumble backwards, as he holds you to stop your fall. You look up at him with wide eyes, a hurried apology emitting from you as he takes you in.

"shit-'m sorry, i didnt hurt you, did i?"

He bites his tongue, retracting what would have been a sarcastic comment, and shakes his head.

"Should be me apologizing to you, sweetheart, didnt see you-"

You smile at him, shaking it off though he's sure you're head is pounding. "'Its okay ,'m not even hurt-nothing ambrosia cant fix-"

You've regained your balance, staring up at him while the gods knows what makes his chest feel tight.

Adrenaline, he tells himself , Adrenaline.

He brings a hand to your head, an innocent gesture meant for him to just check if you're really okay. But really? he just wants an excuse to touch you again after feeling the loss of heat from your body, and like he guessed, you're face burns again from the movement.

Cute.

You've regained your balance, staring up at him. Your eyes are slightly dilated, probably drunk of something a camper snuck into camp and if he was a good camp counselor-he would have reprimanded you, probably sent you to chiron to get punished.

But he's not, the term "good" almost foreign to him by now.

So he lets his eyes trail from yours to your mouth where your lip now threads between your teeth. Maybe you think he knows, and some part of him likes watching you squirm a little bit. Another comment dies in his throat when cold blue eyes meet his, ones that he knows too well,

No.

Your face falls when he steps back, your lips forming into a subtle pout as his indifference.

"Just be careful next time, yeah?"

He doesnt even give you a chance to respond, brushing past you as your face contorts into confusion, and for a second luke feels something rising in him, that he quickly snuffs out.

He's not stupid enough to fuck with silena beauregards little sister.

Luke cant sleep.

Insomnia's not uncommon for him-far used to the nightmares by now. But this-this, is different and he knows exactly why, no matter how much he denies it.

He thinks its aphrodite magic, that you've found someway to fuck with his head with those damn eyes of yours.

( at least that would allow him to hate you)

But it kills him.

Cause you're sweet . He knows aphrodite girls, that most would have given him a dirty look or mutter something under their breath when he left so abruptly, no apology gracing your ears or emitting from his lips. But you smiled at him, sweet voice serenading him until he's dizzy, and he thinks about it now until he feels light.

( The timers stopped, something that flies over his head now, his thoughts only centered on one thing)

He supposes you're to blame, for not screaming at him?, calling him a dick and moving on?

Really, any of the scenarios would give him more ease. Curiosity aches to get the better of him, that maybe it would give him an answer to the enigma that you are. Piercing blue eyes resound in his head, and he sucks in a breath between his teeth, eradicating any thoughts of any further pursuit after tonight.

And its good.

He doesn't need a distraction or silena gunning for him again. He convinces himself that he can abstain from you-the possibility of hearing that stupidly inviting voice again and falls into his bed.

But his eyes don't close and his mind refuses to shut off.

( And in the quiet, he hears the subtle noise start up again. Tick. Tock)

Irritation already settles on your face, by the time you get to the cabin. Words go in and out of your ears, none of them making a single impression as you roll your eyes.

“He was being nice, for christs sake!” you say as she stops, and turns to you. “it’s not like he shouted at me or something-it was my fault, okay? and my heads fine-“

She sighs, her figure relaxing slightly as she dips into the bed beside you. Its weird, her reaction, for many reasons-but especially how much emphasis she's putting on him in particular. You know there's more-that she's not telling you something. But you're too tired to ask.

(Or maybe you'd just rather not know what really goes on inside luke castellans head)

"Just stay away from him, okay? and im serious about this-"

You just nod, not for any reason but for hope that she'll get off your back about it as she leans back into the cushions off the bed and you try to feel comfortable in yours.

But you dont.

Maybe its the buzz of your short lived high, or the fact that you've never been a good sleeper or what you know it to already be, the drumming of a fake promise that resounds throughout your head. Because if its one thing you never were, its honest.

He sees you first.

You're upset, evidently, eyebrows furrowed and face formed into a scowl as you make your way to the sword fighting arena. He uses an excuse instead of the actual reason for dragging you here-that he just needed a way to see you and say sorry without being too presumptuous.

(Which is ridiculous, because even he knows that the boundary lines blurred the second he removed your name from archery to swordsmanship.)

His brain is fuzzy when you talk to him though. You mumble about being switched over-your tone indicating you're irritation though despite your attempt to cover it, his brown irises watching so intently that you wish you skipped.

"but i swear i can get them to switch it back if you're busy-, clarisse is a bitch about timetables but im pretty sure i can get her to do it if i-"

No, is what immediately pops into his head and just as quickly comes from his mouth. Its abrupt and makes you pause for a second, staring back up at him.

"Wouldnt want to make you take an entire mile across camp for somethin' like that" he says as if he didnt make you take the journey before. "can probably find space"

He'd kick out every damn demigod in there if he had to.

Despite your protests, he does eventually get a sword into your hand. Positioning himself behind you, as his hands lock onto your waist, slow, intricate movements along your side under the pretense of 'steadying you'.

It has its adverse effects, what luke really intended to happen, as heat rushes up your spine, leaving you as distracted as ever. You try to ignore the urge to turn around, failing miserably as you turn to him. His grip tightens, as he shifts your body back around by your hips, his chest pressed against your back.

"Eyes up front, pretty girl"

A whisper-the nickname-so quiet you're surprised you even caught it and lukes even more shocked that he even uttered it. He should stop, take a step back, he knows hes well past that little boundary line he tried to imagine for himself. He knows hes enjoying it all way too much. But his hands dont leave your hips, his breath doesnt stop warming your neck because he'd be right back at your knees like a dog to its owner if he stopped-coming right back just to have that one moment of redamancy-even if its just out of pity. He snaps out of it though, reminding himself that he at least needs to finish his lesson like a dutiful counselor.

Distracted.

Its what he knows he is and what causes kronos's mocking voice to pop back in his head in the nights. He can only make excuses for so long-knowing that he needs to atleast put something in place before the solstice-before all hell breaks loose.

(Its starting again-he feels it, the low drumming that will eventually become a migraine, and turn into something more. A resounding noise that he's been able to escape with you, letting him turn off his head before his sciamachy begins and he paces like a madman. He wants-needs- to go, its why the damn clock wont stop, why he cant seem to close his eyes for too long.)

Despite his apprehension, he trails you around camp. Even staying at those stupid campfires, just long enough so he can see your smile when your eyes meet. A single moment before your face turn sullen as silena gives you a look.

You say something back, a comment silena seems to dislike as her face contorts into something irritated. Whatever comes out next, though, hits a nerve. He sees the way your eyes still and you swallow, a nod as you walk off before silena can open her mouth again.

And he follows you, making sure you’re okay, of course-nothing more, nothing less, like a good counselor should.

(Another feign play at innocence)

You don’t seem to know where you’re going either-weaving through the cabins, even passing your own. He’s fine with his distance, he’ll just watch, not interfere-he’s good like this.

That is until you stop, turning around with a look on your face that he prays isn’t for him.

“Stalking me now, castellan?”

Eyebrows raised, as you fold your arms. “Didn’t take you for a creep”

(He scoffs, though his reaction is only because you’re right.)

“Just making sure you're alright” he mutters, taking a step forward-closer-too close-for either of your liking.

You stiffen, at his proximity, at his words-instinctively moving a hand to wipe your face of any remnants of tears.

“I’m fine-it’s hot over there y’know-”

Another step.

“The-the humidity-hot air, all stuffy and-“ you stop when he somehow finds a way to get closer, rambling briefly paused as you stare up at him with your face flushed. “shit-”

The silence doesn’t help. If anything it’s worse-even more intoxicating for him as he smells your perfume. Subconsciously, his hands move to your shirt, fiddling with the hem as you take a sharp inhale.

“Luke.”

He hates how you say his name.

It makes him feel sick-how pretty you make something so depraved sound in your mouth.

(But he’d rather hear it in another context-see how far he could push you, how sacred his name could really sound when his head is between your thighs and your hands in his hair as he kneels like he’s at some altar. maybe thats the closest thing to a prayer the gods will get from him )

You only exhale when his eyes meet yours, and he allows a hand to snake up your abdomen.

“Yeah?”

So casual, relaxed, the exact opposite of the alarms sounding in your head to get him to stop. You should-need to, for both of your sakes.

You don’t.

Instead you let him, when his hands reach the softness of your breasts- you let him touch you. Let him run his hands over your sensitive nipples and pinch them when they harden. You’re just as greedy as him-he realizes, when he watches you arch your back in a desperate attempt for friction.

A slap on the hips is what gets you to snap out of it.

“Such a needy fuckin’ thing” he hums, trailing back to your thighs, “don’t think you deserve it though, pet ”

You’re eyes almost cross when he kneels. A short lived victory, however, when you hear the footsteps of the returning campers. He hears the -he has to but he either doesn’t care or is too caught up to move.

“Luke”

A futile attempt to get him to focus-to fucking move before someone sees you too. Instead a finger presses against the wetness of your panties as a squeal leaves you-a testament to his earlier thoughts about your sensitivity.

Cute.

You buck your hips for more, but he just tuts as he gets up.

“Should be careful sweetheart, not everyones as lenient about the rules as I am”

He doesn’t wait for a response, instead leaving your wetness on his fingers as he turns his back to you and your legs wobbly when you walk back to your cabin.

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