m

luke truther!

[tangledinlove]

our field of dreams (engulfed in fire)

part nine — the killerverse masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x fem reader 5.3k

content: angst! pretty intense conversation

summary: the point of no return

notes: i have lived literally 10 lives since i last wrote for luke #MyBad. to my very patient and sweet readers thank you for not throwing tomatoes at me. title from loml by tswift if that gives you any insight at all

“I meant us. I can’t do this anymore.”

You blink back at him. You take in the sight of his eyes, which are red from relentless rubbing. 

Have they been like that the entire time? You can’t remember anymore. 

“What?”

It’s all you can think to say. It’s the only word steady enough to tumble out of your mouth.

Luke’s exhale is shaky as he passes a hand down his face. The wall he’s put up around himself cracks. He pauses for a second before he repeats himself, his voice unsure. 

“We need to break up.”

The dock creaks. You fidget with a strand of your hair sticking to the back of your neck with sweat.

And then you laugh.

“Luke, you’re so not funny.”

The fear gripping at your heart washes away easily. You’re irritated, since you’d been so excited to show him the tickets, and he’s chosen right now to—to joke with you about something serious. He’s messing with you. He’s kidding.

He shakes his head again, training his eyes firmly on the ground. He won’t look you in the eyes despite how hard you’re trying to get him to. “I’m being serious.” 

You glance around the treeline, on edge suddenly. Luke sometimes teases you about how you always lean closer to him when you’re nervous, but something in the back of your mind stops you from doing it now. 

“Sure,” you huff, taking the envelope from his hands. The tightness of his grip has left crinkles in the paper, and his eyes trace your movements as you stuff it back into your pocket, not in the mood to look at it anymore. You wonder when you should start packing for your flight. “This has gotta be one of your most random jokes.”

He’s breaking up with you. You almost laugh again at the idea, but something in your throat stops you, a lump that you can’t seem to swallow. Luke begged you to stay in bed with him a few hours ago. He’d held your hand on the walk here. It’s a lame excuse for a joke.

He rubs his knuckles into the palm of his opposite hand, his eyes still drifting. Why won’t he look at you? “Killer, I’m not—”

“What did you actually want to tell me?” you cut in. Your heart is racing—in anticipation or curiosity, you’re not sure. Maybe both.

The cicadas start up a relentless chirping that quickly gets on your nerves. It makes you feel hot all of a sudden. You want to go back to your cabin. Or Luke’s, now that the air conditioner there is fixed. You forgot your camp necklace somewhere there and still keep forgetting to go look for it. Maybe he’ll help you search tonight, before it gets too dark out.

Luke opens his mouth to speak, and it feels like a strike across the face.

“I’m sorry.” His voice breaks at the end, turning warbled and so unlike him it makes you shiver. You’d been… scared, earlier. Scared of Luke, your best friend. But as you look at him now, it sounds like he’s scared of himself. “I’m not lying to you, I—I can’t do this. We need to break up.”

The air is muggy enough to worsen your exhaustion, an inescapable stickiness dragging your eyelids in the direction of the ground. Your head is cloudy.

“Sweetheart,” he says again, finally looking back up at you. It stops your heart in your chest. Luke is near crying, sadness clinging to the lines of his eyes. “You know that I— I have always cared about you more than anything. You need to know that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Luke is serious, you realize.

The pitying expression on his face isn’t going to give way to the gleam of his smile. He isn’t going to pull you under his arm, making fun of how you’d actually believed him, smothering your face with teasing kisses.

Luke is serious, and he’s going to break your heart.

You nearly flinch when he steps closer to you, kicking up a bit of dirt with his sneakers. He slides his thumb into the curl of your fingers and pries them away from your palm.

You’ve been digging your nails into your skin. Hot crescent shapes embed themselves there, and he takes it upon himself to study the marks, turning your wrist over with his shaking hands.

“Please don’t touch me,” you choke out quickly, a reaction that has him stumbling backwards toward the water.

Not when you’re going to leave, you almost say. You can’t get the words out.

Luke’s eyebrows crease as the quivering in his hands gets worse. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

You feel your fingers curl into your palms again, wincing now at the sting. “It’s okay.”

The words are an impulse you can’t control. Nothing about this is okay, but comforting him is second nature.

You want him to hold you, but you aren’t sure if it would make it worse.

The thought is almost dystopian. Luke has been the most consistent form of comfort in your life. Associating his touch with hurt sounds paradoxical.

His entire face crumbles. “I can’t do this to you anymore,” he says, the words coming out rough. “I’m so sorry, killer.”

It’s a trick of the light, but his hair looks a little longer, the way he used to like it when you were kids. The way it’s styled is why he looks younger, but the look on his face is why he looks older beyond his years. He looks tired. Weary. You think he’s been needing more sleep.

“What happened?” You scratch at your arm. “Are you—can you tell me what happened?”

You’re standing about a foot away from him. With how much your chest aches, you would assume that wasn’t the case.

He exhales quickly, and then clears his throat. It sounds gutted. “Nothing. Nothing happened.”

“Luke.”

You think about him at six-years-old, that year when he got really into hockey. You weren’t as into it as him, preferring to watch him skate through the glass, but he refused to play without you. He taught you how to skate himself, amused when you would fall but there to help you up every time.

After you realized that life as a skater was not for you, you elected to play goalie for him instead. Getting pucks shot at you was probably the last way you wanted to spend your free time, but Luke made up for it — he made you hot cocoa after the walk back to your house every single day.

You think about Luke, standing on a chair to reach the microwave, his nose red from the cold. He would let you stir in the cocoa powder and would pour the whipped cream straight into your mouth even when your mom would get upset with him.

You can’t reconcile that version of him with the one standing in front of you right now.

“It’s nothing,” he says, firmer this time. He swipes at his eyes again, and the tears lingering there are gone, like a trick of the light.

You can still feel the imprint of his palms on your spine from a few hours ago. The spot where he likes to press his face into your neck has practically carved a crevice into your skin. 

You know Luke Castellan better than you know yourself.

It’s why you know he’s lying, and it’s why you can’t tell the difference between your own heartbreak and anger. 

The lump in your throat wanes while the heat in your chest rises.

A lifetime of friendship. Years of having no one but each other, years of being in love with each other. And he’s throwing it all away under flimsy excuses and without being able to look you in the eyes. 

Your eyes burn with the sting of frustration. You were going to leave camp together. You were going to spend the rest of your lives together, and Luke won’t even give you a proper reason as to why he’s doing this. 

“If you’re breaking up with me, then at least be honest with me.” The fabric of your shirt sticks insistently to your lower back. Your voice breaks halfway through, and you force out a bitter laugh alongside it. “You’re lying. Why—Why are you lying? It’s me, Luke. It’s just me.”

He turns to face the water, clearing his throat, and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was getting choked up about this.

He trips over his words, starting and stopping before he rips the bandaid off with his teeth. “I’m not lying. I don’t want to—I won’t keep you in a relationship where you aren’t loved the way you should be. I can’t do it. You don’t deserve that.”

It takes a few seconds for the words to sink in, but when they do, it feels like a blow to your chest.

He thinks he’s doing what’s right. 

In some sick, convoluted way, Luke thinks he’s protecting you, just like he always has. And he’s trying to protect you from himself.

If he wasn’t actively breaking your heart, it would be almost funny. Luke thinks he doesn’t love you right.

You don’t think anyone could ever love you like he does. Quietly, loudly, silently, when you’re away, when you’re together, when you’re asleep, when you’re not paying attention— Luke Castellan loves you more than anyone else in your life. 

He loves you when he rubs the sleep from your eyes and kisses you awake in the morning. He loves you when he dunks your head underwater just to wipe the water from your face when you come back up. He loved you when he asked you to run away with him, and he loved you when he went on your quest with you. He loved you when he would chase you around at recess until your legs didn’t work anymore, and he loved you when he would let you lay on his chest so your back wasn’t pressed against the rocky forest floor.

“You think you don’t love me the way I should be?” Frustration makes your head hot. You itch to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he understands. “Luke, you—you’re such an idiot. I know what love is because of you. You love me better than anyone else in my life. You always have, and… you’re all I have.”

You know that he’s going to tug at the hair at the back of his neck before he actually does it. His nose wrinkles when he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s having a hard time looking at you. “Stop.”

“You’re my best friend.” It’s hard, knowing that the words don’t even begin to cover the extent of what you feel for him. It’s hard to think of the words that could describe it. “I don’t want anyone else’s love. I don’t need it.”

“You aren’t getting it.” He rubs at his temples. He’s irritated, now, just like you.

“Then help me understand!” you cry, desperate. “You’re not making any sense, aren’t you seeing that?”

Luke sighs, a ragged sound that tears from his chest. His eyes crack open finally, the darkness of his irises being nearly swallowed up by the red in his eyes. 

This whole conversation is giving you whiplash. It seems like he’s hurt one second, broken up about this just as much as you, but he’s apathetic the second after. 

It sounds like you’re begging because you are. You wish he would give up this stupid game and come back to camp with you. 

You’re beyond desperate now, because your best friend is looking at you, and you know before he speaks that you’ll never forget the look on his face.

“I don’t love you,” he says simply. “You deserve better than that.”

Your stomach lurches. The blood rushing in your ears cuts out the sound of the insects hiding in the green behind you.

It’s me and you, killer.

You think about the way he pulls you into a hug sometimes, just so he can mumble jokes in your ear. Just yesterday morning, he’d cut your toast for you since you’d been half asleep at the table.

You know Luke loves you. It’s why you don’t believe him, and it’s why you scoff, the sound thick with disbelief.

“You know me, Luke. You know I’m not stupid enough to believe that. I’ve known you for my whole life. You can’t just—how do you fake the way we felt about each other?”

He shakes his head. You can’t tell if he’s averting his eyes again because he’s feeling guilty or because he’s lying. “I realized that… you’re a lot more serious about this than I am. And I—I care about you. I don’t want to be a dick. You deserve someone who is just as serious about the relationship as you are, and—”

You take a step back, and Luke trails off, losing track of his words. 

Embarrassment makes your face so hot it burns. You know you aren’t crazy. It had felt like a fact that Luke was serious about this — he still is. He has to be. 

“You said you didn’t think you could leave here without me.” Tears prick at your eyes before you blink them away. “Luke, we—we talked about our future together. You said you wanted a…”

You stop yourself from finishing your sentence. Admitting it would hurt more, but the reminder of it makes anger surge through you.

Luke wanted a family. He told you he wanted a family, and it turns out it all was a lie.

For a split second, he looks almost… upset. But it’s gone before you can call him out on it, and his gaze freezes over again. 

“I didn’t know what I wanted, alright? I still don’t. I—Look, come on. Killer, we’re kids. We’re still figuring our shit out, yeah? Isn’t that what everyone says? I thought I had feelings, but—I dunno. I was drunk when we kissed. Really drunk, and so were you—”

The sick feeling in your stomach is swallowed by a hollow emptiness. Luke keeps talking, muttering about how he was confused, and how you were too, but none of it is real enough to process.

“Luke,” you say, willing yourself to keep your voice steady. He stops talking, and the silence in the clearing is enough to make your ears ring. “You have to understand why I don’t believe you.”

There’s no point in you explaining, because you know him, and you know he understands. 

Your perception of love is based on each other. Even when you didn’t see how much further your feelings went beyond friendship, you’d always known that you loved each other. It was as factual as the color of the sky or the pull of the Moon on the sea’s tides. The Earth orbited the Sun, and you and Luke loved each other. 

Did you? Or had you made that all up? Were you so blinded by your own feelings, the strength of your own emotions, that you’d assumed he felt the same way? Had he not loved you this whole time?

You think back to that morning on the dock, the day after you’d first kissed. Luke had insisted on keeping your relationship a secret because of Chiron. 

How much of it was because of Chiron, and how much of it was because he didn’t actually love you?

Luke scoffs, and you feel your entire body draw tight with tension. 

Whatever ‘care’ he claimed to have for you seems to disappear as he cocks his head, a disbelieving smile playing on his lips. “Are you being serious?”

Images of the two of you at this same spot a few years ago flash through your head. I hope you know it’s been a definite yes for the past decade, he’d said.

You think you’re going to be sick. You’ve never been truly afraid of Luke. Afraid for him, sure, but you’ve never looked at him and felt anything other than completely and utterly safe.

Of course, you’ve seen glimpses of it in other people — brief moments of fear. Luke’s reputation as the best swordsman at camp wasn’t made up out of nowhere. People have left sparring matches with him joking about how scary he can be, and it’s something you’ve always chalked up to how good he is. And he’s really good. So good that the placement of his blade at your throat can feel just as gentle as the caress of his own hands. He’s had your life in the palm of his hands more times than you can count, and it’s never occurred to you that Luke is someone you should be nervous around.

But Luke steps closer to you, and… you remember suddenly that he’s always been somewhat tall. It only becomes really obvious when he uses his height like this — like a weapon.

His presence is only magnified by the cold, relentless stare he drills you with. The shadows under his eyes darken each second you don’t respond, and you begin to understand exactly why people find Luke so scary.

The look in his eyes is terrifying. 

“Y’know, I didn’t believe it when people said it,” Luke says, something sharp in the way he mutters it, “but holy shit. You really are as conceited as people say you are. Is it really that hard to believe someone doesn’t love you?” 

He steps closer to you, and you’re surprised you find yourself moving away from him. 

Because this is Luke.

Isn’t it? 

He was the only person you trusted enough to let close to you when your mind was rewritten with the strength of poison. A few nights ago, when he was half-asleep and just as lovesick as you, he reminded you how excited he was to leave camp together. 

The light feeling in your chest whenever you see him, the one that feels like a million butterflies in your stomach, has been replaced with the paralyzing feeling of dread.

Deep down, you realize it. 

You have passed the point of no return.

He won’t be able to apologize, pressing kisses into your hairline while he cradles the back of your head. There will be no coming back from this conversation.

Luke takes another step closer, and you don’t fight him on it.

“I don’t expect you to get it,” he continues, so close you can feel the warmth radiating off of his chest. “I mean, you’re daddy’s favorite, right?” Luke smiles at you mockingly, baring his perfect white teeth. “His perfect daughter. His pride and joy. And it’s the same way with your mom! I bet you could run back to her and have her welcome you back with open arms, too. Even after you got up and abandoned her like that.” 

You had no idea it would be so easy for Luke to take your heart in his hands and wring it out. He’s pressing into a bruise, poking and prodding at it and waiting to see how you react.

“You don’t get what it’s like to have to beg for scraps of attention from your parents like a fucking dog. Attention is all you’ve ever known.” 

The words come out easily, like he’s been waiting forever to say them. Jealousy and hurt is woven between every syllable. 

“It’s all you’ve ever gotten from me, your mom, your dad…” He’s half-smiling when he speaks. “I can’t even blame you. It’s not your fault you can’t believe some people might actually not like you.” He laughs gruffly, rubbing at his neck. “Give me a goddamn break.”

You blink hard and try to think about the feeling of Luke’s arms wrapped around your shoulders. A lump rises in your throat when the thought of it only wracks your body with discomfort. “You don’t mean that.”

Please, you want to beg. Take it back before you can’t fix any of this.

“I don’t?” he asks, a sick smile spreading across his face. “And how do you know that?”

Something inside of you shatters. You shove him backwards with shaking hands, your jaw clenched in anger. “What is wrong with you, Luke? Are you even listening to what you’re saying?” It’s a weak attempt at trying to knock some sense into him. “You… you don’t even sound like yourself right now.”

His eyes roll. “Yeah. ‘Cause the gods forbid that anyone is fucking honest with you for once.”

His words embed themselves into your skin and fester there. “Luke,” you say desperately, though you aren’t sure what you’re begging him for.

“Can you stop trying to fix me?” His voice rises so much a flock of birds erupts from the treeline. “There’s nothing wrong with me. You can’t make me better by—by figuring me out, or whatever the hell you think you’re always doing.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, asshole, I’m worried about you!” you cry, your voice wet and hurt. 

“You’re not trying to fix me?” he echoes, amused. He rubs the heel of his palm against the spot you shoved him, his hand twitching. “Isn’t that why you ran away with me in the first place? You left your shiny house and your perfect family because you felt bad. All you’ve done is pity me our whole lives, and try to fix whatever the hell is wrong with me. I’m sick of it.”

You bite down on your tongue to stop yourself from crying, drawing blood without realizing. Each of his words has the intended effect — you don’t think you’ve ever felt so hurt in your life.

“I left with you because I loved you, Luke.” You take a step closer to him, trying to stop your legs from shaking. “That hasn’t changed. Everything I do is because I love you.”

He held your hand on the way here. You wonder what you did wrong.

Luke shrugs. “Sorry that you feel that way, then,” he continues, driving the knife in further. 

Your voice is thick. You know this can’t be him talking, but it’s hard to remember that when it feels like your entire world is falling apart. You shake your head in denial. “You can’t push me away, Luke. It won’t work.”

You remember a conversation you had, a million miles away from here, with a man you know you’ll never see eye to eye with.

But promise me. He’s going to need you. Stick together, no matter how bad it gets, you understand?

Your throat feels dry.

“Leave me alone, yeah?” His voice is fraught with anger. He inhales once before saying, “It’s over.”

He turns around, heading back the way you came. 

Panic shoots through you. Luke is leaving. He’s going to leave you here and it’ll never be the same again.

Without thinking, you reach out and grab at his shirt, tugging him back towards you. You release the fabric as soon as he’s close enough. The thought of coming in contact with his skin makes you too nervous to hold onto him for any longer.

He looks stunned at your outburst, his resolve slipping for the briefest moment.

You speak through gritted teeth. “Luke, you are— you can’t seriously think I’m going to let you walk away from this. You’ve been my friend for my entire life, and you think I’m going to let you go without a fight?”

His jaw clenches, and you press on, frantic. “When we left Connecticut, I made a promise to you. ‘I’m with you forever,’ remember? Unless you’re choosing to forget that, too.”

Luke is quiet, his expression unreadable. You know he didn’t forget it. The promise is repeated to each other all the time, whether it’s with your words or kisses pressed to shoulders. 

After a second, he drags a hand down his face, working a hand over his jaw. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“You are the one who is making this hard.” You refuse to cry in front of him, but he seems to test your resolve with every second he stands in front of you. “Luke, I gave you everything I have ever had. Fuck, I even promised your dad—”

Luke freezes, and for the first time since the conversation started, you think you catch a glimpse of the real him. The mention of Hermes stuns him, his eyes shining with shock and hurt. You’ve dug your hands into a lifelong wound that hasn’t quite healed over yet, and you know it.

“My dad?” He repeats slowly. “What did you promise him?”

You don’t quite know what to say. So you tell him the truth. 

“I saw him during the last trip to Olympus.”

“That’s when you saw him,” Luke says lowly, his tone dangerous. “I asked what you told him.” 

Luke’s tone is so biting, and the admission comes out easily. You can’t tell if it’s because he’s scaring you or because you don’t want to disappoint him.

“He asked me to promise to stick together,” you admit, wincing at the sound of your own voice. 

Your heart drops when Luke staggers backwards, and the words pour out of you.

“And of course I said yes, Luke. I didn’t have to promise that to anyone. I was always planning on doing it. And—I just thought that he wanted peace of mind, or something, I didn’t—”

“You—how could you do that?” He runs a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched. “My dad? You went to speak to my dad?”

“He came to talk to me,” you explain frantically, panic rising quickly. “I think—He’s an asshole, but he was worried about you.”

Luke laughs. “Yeah, well, he’s about a lifetime too late, isn’t he?” His chest has started heaving, his anger boiling over. “Gods, what were you thinking? I didn’t need you to go behind my back and make little promises with my dad about me. He didn’t care about me when I was a kid who needed him, and he didn’t care last year, either. He doesn’t get to worry about me.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s honest. “I wasn’t thinking when I said yes.”

“Yeah, you weren’t.” It’s harsh and it hurts, but you understand exactly why he’s so upset. His laugh is bitter. “He doesn’t deserve a say in my life, and I just… I can’t believe you promised him that.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry.” You’re floundering now, because you know exactly what he’s thinking. He thinks part of your loyalty is because of a promise you made to his dad. But it’s not. Not a single second of your relationship has been because of him, and you’re desperately trying to communicate that to him. “But I hope that you understand why I did it. It—none of this has ever felt like an obligation to me, staying with you is just—”

“I get it,” Luke says, cutting you off. “You did it because you’re a people pleaser, yeah? You always have been.”

Your head throbs in time with your heart. “Please don’t do this to me. You’re saying this to be mean, Luke. You don’t mean that.”

He sighs. “I’m just being honest, sweetheart.” Venom drips from his tongue, burning the wound he’s made in your chest with his words alone. “Why d’you think I kept you around even when I didn’t feel the same way?”

His words ring in your head. 

Kept you around.

You feel the urge to crawl out of your own skin. It doesn’t feel like yours. 

Every kiss, every brush of your hands under a table, every time he’d pulled you into his arms with a lopsided smile…

It’d been because you were easy.

As one last act of kindness, Luke turns around. He is nice enough to break your heart with his back turned.

You feel flayed open. You know none of those words were an accident, each one chosen to strike at the chords in your heart. He knew exactly what would hurt, and as you watch him walk away… you aren’t sure that he feels bad for a single one of them. 

Monsters aren’t afraid to take any form — even if it means they look like your best friend.

But it takes a monster to know one, doesn’t it? 

It’s desperate and cruel, but you want him to understand exactly what his words have done to you. Maybe he would finally be able to see what he’s done, and—fix this, or apologize, or realize how insane he’s being.

Your voice wavers when you call out to his retreating form. “You need me just as bad as I need you, Luke. Or else…” You inhale sharply. “You would’ve left me about a hundred times over now.”

His figure grows smaller as he heads towards the gap in the trees.

“And I knew it, Luke,” you say, your throat tight. “You couldn’t have… you didn’t just like me when you got to put your hands up my shirt. You weren’t just using me. It was real. I know it was.”

His shoulders roll. He does not turn around.

When you know someone as well as you know Luke, it’s easy to find — a red hot laceration carved into his skin, one that will never quite heal. 

It’s a vulnerable spot for you to dig your fingers in and hurt.

Your stomach rolls with unease as the words fall from your lips. “For someone who hates their dad so much, you sure are similar.”

Luke doesn’t stop walking, but the pinch in his shoulders lets you know that he heard you. Dead grass crackles under the soles of his shoes.

“You’re walking away, just like he did. Guess you had to learn it from somewhere, didn’t you?”

He stops moving.

When he turns around to face you, he looks more like a stranger than the other half of your soul.

The fury burning in his eyes would have scared you a few minutes ago. But you soak up his anger readily, almost desperate for any ounce of true emotion from him. His indifference was fake, you’re almost sure of it, but this is real. 

The way he barely contains his rage as he stalks through the grass is real. The feeling of his breath fanning over your skin is real. The shame and guilt surging through your bloodstream — it’s all real.

You regretted the words immediately after you’d said them. You had said it to hurt him, and it had worked. But you don’t feel any better now that you have. 

“I am going to say this once.”

He’s standing up straight to make himself taller. You look into his eyes and try to remember the little details of his face. He’s staring at you so intensely you wonder if he’s doing the same thing.

“Stay away from me. It’s over,” he says, and it is final.

There’s a cut by his lip. His eyelashes are so long that they brush against his cheeks when he blinks. A light sunburn kisses the top of his face.

You tear your gaze away from the freckles he insists don’t exist so you can look him in the eyes. 

You don’t see anything.

“In a few hours, you’re going to realize what you’ve said to me. And it’s going to hurt, Luke.” The words you spit at him in your own moment of rage already sting with regret. “It’s going to hurt the same way you hurt me, and I think it’ll hurt worse.” You watch his jaw work, his teeth grinding together. “And when you stop putting on this act, I am going to feel sorry for you. Because I won’t be there to comfort you when you realize what you’ve done.”

He smiles, and for a second, you can see the boy who drew smiley faces with sunscreen on your back. The same one who bought you flowers when he was jealous about you having a crush on someone else, and the same one who looks for you after nightmares.

The illusion shatters when he cocks his head. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”

For the first time in nineteen years, Luke Castellan turns away and walks out of your life.

notes: surely u guys saw this coming right HAHA. i love luke castellan but i never said he was smart. can you guys believe its been like 1.5 years since the last part like woah my deepest apologies guys. i listened to lover u shouldve come over while editing this and woahh when i tell you 5:04 in the song came on and i was fighting for my life lol

thank u for pre reading my lovely lovely locknco & mayswift u guys rock. <3

[tangledinlove]

everything has changed

part eight — the killerverse masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of ares reader

summary: you, luke, and the aftermath of the way you’d kissed him last night

content: lots of fluff and a sprinkle of angst

notes: title from everything has changed by taylor swift. special dedication to @locknco thank u for fighting through this fic with me

There’s so much pressure on your head that you have to make sure your brain isn’t currently being sucked up by a vacuum.

It’s not the worst headache you’ve had, but it’s been so long since you’ve drank. The pain behind your eyes is enough to have you resisting the urge to even stand up.

But the need to get rid of the pain wins out in the end. Eyes barely open, you lean over to the bedside table where Luke usually leaves painkillers for you—

Holy shit.

Luke.

The banging in your skull quiets the second you sit up, your hands curling into the sheets.

The bed is empty. The sun has barely risen.

You can tell it hasn’t been too long since Luke’s left because you can still see the clear outline of where he’d been sleeping next to you. You stop yourself from chasing after his residual warmth and curling up on his side of the mattress.

The rest of the beds around you are full, everyone sleeping soundly through the early morning.

You feel the breeze from the open window tickle the top of your head.

It’s been humid all week and everyone keeps forgetting to fix the air conditioning, which has turned all of Cabin Eleven into a muggy swamp. Every other window is cracked open, letting the cool air from outside circulate into the cabin. It’s dark out too, but the sun has risen enough that you can just about see through the rest of the room without needing any of the lights on.

It’s very still inside of the Hermes cabin. The only signs of life are the little movements of the campers while they’re still asleep. One of Luke’s brothers nearest to the door mumbles something before turning over with a huff. The girl across the room from you stretches, then kicks off the blanket strewn across her legs. She settles back against her pillows and doesn’t shift after that.

Something tells you that Luke won’t be back to bed for a while, so you do your best to rub the sleep from your eyes before getting up.

You bring Luke’s blanket with you when you slip out the door. It gets so painfully hot during the day, but the mornings at camp can be unbearably cold. The air nips at your bare legs when you find them carrying you into the woods.

The rays of the rising sun peek through the oaks as you walk the path you have a million and one times. It might be crazy for you to assume where Luke is, but you have a good feeling.

A rabbit darts across the path ahead of you. The land parts for it while it pushes through the green sea of lemongrass.

You find Luke where you’d expected: his legs dangling over the old dock and staring out across the water.

You don’t bother approaching quietly because you can tell he knows you’re there.

“You’re up early,” you say, voice hoarse with sleep.

Luke is quiet, but you know he’s listening. He moves away from the edge of the wood before he turns to look at you.

He drums his knuckles against the planks, so you step over his knee to settle between his legs. His arms come around your front and you’re surprised to find he doesn’t feel as warm as he looks.

“Are you cold?”

He leans down to press his face against your neck, and he shakes his head against you, a silent no.

You can’t help but shiver at the feeling of his lips ghosting over the skin there, and he takes to rubbing his hands along the outside of your thighs.

“You should’ve put pants on,” he says quietly, taking your shuddering as something caused by the morning chill and not the feeling of his skin on yours. “And I mean real pants. Not shorts. You feel cold.”

You’re very lucky. You’re always immune to the morning chills at camp when you’re close to him like this. You rest your face against Luke’s matching sleep shirt and feel the warmth from his arm seep through the fibers.

“I’m not cold. But what’re you doing up? It’s so early.”

The water ripples below you, though you can’t quite see your reflections. Luke stifles a yawn.

“Woke up and started thinking. Couldn’t go back to sleep.”

You hum, and Luke slides one of his hands up the front of your shirt.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you ask.

“The opposite. I was thinking about you.”

You’re happy he can’t see the smile on your face. “You were?”

“I think about you all the time, you know that. I was waiting for you to come out here and find me.”

His nails drag slowly over your stomach. Goosebumps rise in his wake.

“I always do.”

“I know you do.”

The two of you get quiet again, watching the sun rise above the horizon. Both of you sit there and try to gather the courage to bring it all up.

This has been a long time coming. You think it’s been part of your lives since the moment you were born—an inevitability. You were always going to end up here eventually, with your hand in his and his arms wrapped around you. It just took you an embarrassingly long time to get here.

You feel like you should be more scared to talk about something as serious as this—something that could change you two forever—but you don’t think it's possible to doubt your relationship with Luke. You already know what you want to say to him.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“I really want this with you.” You let his blanket fall from around your shoulders so you can turn in his hold. “I don’t think I’ve wanted anything more than you.”

“You have me.” His voice is serious. “You always have.”

Luke’s had you since the very second you understood what it meant to love. He’s your best friend. Half of your mind. All of who you are.

You can’t help but take his face in your hand and brush your thumb under his eyes. Your eyes slide shut while you kiss down the length of his scar, soft and chaste across the expanse of his face.

You can’t tell if it’s you or Luke who tilts his head to the side to kiss you again.

You’d been grateful for your first kiss last night. But you think this is the first one that really counts.

He holds you like you’re going to float off into the sun. One of his hands snakes around your waist to hold you to him while the other reaches to caress your face.

Luke’s never held you without unadulterated love. You feel it at night in his bed, and in the morning when he's brushing a hand over your shoulders as he passes by. And you feel it now, when he breaks the kiss to drop his face into your chest. He lets out a heavy sigh against you, like a ten ton weight is sliding off his shoulders. You’re content to stroke his hair and cradle the back of his head until he squeezes you a little too tight.

You twist one of his curls around your finger. “Are you okay?”

He leans back slightly—making sure not to stray too far—fragments of a smile on his face. His eyes shine like glass, and you’re quick to swipe your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks.

Luke’s voice is a whisper when he says, “I don’t thank you enough.”

You frown. “For what?”

“For this.” He gestures at you like it’ll get his point across. “For—for everything.”

“Luke…”

“For putting up with me. For leaving with me as kids, for—”

“Luke, stop.”

“But I should,” he insists, always so persistent. His eyes have dried up, but his voice isn’t nearly as steady as it was a second ago. “You’re the most selfless person I know. You do everything for me, and I just—”

You shake your head and he stops talking, the last of his words dying on his tongue.

Luke’s always had a hard time accepting things.

You remember being nine and somewhere in Massachusetts. Luke had been so sick that he was constantly feverish and couldn’t walk more than half a mile without needing to sit down. But still, he’d refused the bites of your food you’d demanded he eat, even though he’d been unsteady on his feet for the past week.

And you see bits and pieces of it now, too.

You compliment him all the time—maybe a little too much—and you see the way his smiles are always tentative, like he doesn’t quite believe you. You see it when you talk about the future with him, like he doesn’t believe he’ll ever get to experience something that good. He’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, never fully letting himself be happy.

But there’s no catch. Your feelings for him are about as straightforward as they come.

You place both of your hands on each side of his face, trying to drag his eyes back to yours. You don’t know what other way to make him understand than to just say it.

“I love you, Luke.”

You watch the shadows of his face shift as he tips his head down.

“I’m with you because I love you. Not because I feel bad, or—or because I want something in return. I just love you. That’s it.”

His fingers dig into your back. Three times. There’s pressure at your side where his other hand works nervously at your skin.

Luke’s voice breaks. “I don’t deserve you.”

He kisses it in the gap between your collarbones and under your skin and into your bloodstream, and you understand exactly what he’s trying to say.

“I can’t believe it took so long.” It sounds like he’s thinking out loud rather than speaking directly to you. “Nineteen whole years.”

“Think we were just being stupid for the last few,” you say around a yawn. He exhales in what you know is a laugh and it makes you shiver.

You’re tracing something into his arm in silence, listening to the sounds of the early morning when something comes to you. “Do you remember the trip we took to Olympus?”

His face screws up at the old memory. “‘Course I do. Why?”

You can’t help but smile when you hear the sound of the turtle doves chirping in the trees amongst the other noises of the forest. “Do you think Aphrodite knew about us?”

You’d been so embarrassed by what she’d said, you’d brushed it off before you could give it too much thought. You feel like an absolute idiot now. The goddess of love, basically handing him to you on a silver platter, and it had taken you almost half a year to come to your senses.

Luke laughs, and you can’t help the way your chest warms. “I think everyone knew, to be fair.”

“Like Chris! What an asshole.” You shake your head. “I think we need to throw him a party or something.”

“What’d he do?”

You’re very quickly reminded that his best friend confessed his little scheme only to you.

You snitch. “He only brought up Callea in the first place to see what we’d say.” You enjoy watching the way Luke’s face flickers through about ten different emotions before settling on unamused. “He thought we’d started dating without telling him.”

Luke sighs, but doesn’t sound surprised. “Of course he did.”

“Wonder what he’ll say once he finds out.” You rub a greedy hand down Luke’s back. You know your cabin isn’t going to let you hear the end of it, Clarisse especially.

You still when Luke says your name quietly, his hands pausing around your waist.

“Yeah?”

“We should probably… probably keep this a secret, don’t you think?”

Your heart sinks.

“Oh,” you say, the word coming out frighteningly stilted. “Okay.”

Luke can’t pull away from you faster.

“I don’t—fuck. I don’t want to keep this a secret, I swear.” His face pinches when he looks at you, so you smile, trying not to look too upset about it. It does nothing but make the furrow of his brows worsen. “But if Chiron or—or Mr. D finds out about it, we’ll never be able to be like this again.”

His words are making sense, but you don’t want them to. You finally have him, and only the two of you will ever know about it.

But then you think about what you’d lose—the sleeping together, the touching, the alone time. They’d watch you like hawks.

“We’re already lucky they gave up trying to stop you from sleeping at mine,” he points out, smiling at you sadly.

You’ll never forget about those early days at camp, the both of you freshly fourteen and wary of everyone that wasn’t each other or Annabeth. You’d gotten such weird looks from the other kids when you’d dragged your sleeping bags right next to each other, and then even weirder looks when they’d started waking up to find you in the same bed. It had only got worse when you’d gotten claimed and had to move cabins. You’d been more than excited to meet your siblings, but then you’d found out you no longer were allowed to spend the night at Cabin Eleven.

It was safe to say you didn’t take that lightly.

You’d brought your protests all the way up to Chiron’s desk yourself, even when he’d refused your begging with a firm no each time.

You didn’t care. You just got very good at evading the curfew harpies and sneaking in through windows.

They’d tried punishing you with dishes, and then laundry, and then the stables, but you took each punishment without complaint—especially since Luke took them on with you. All of you knew they would have to drag you kicking and screaming from his cabin if they’d wanted you to leave.

You didn’t give in, and it had only taken them four weeks to cave.

The two of you theorized they gave up because they had expected you to grow out of the habit with time, and they’d been right—to some degree.

You had stopped sneaking in every night, but your nights spent at Luke’s cabin were still just about as common as the nights you spent at yours.

“If we’re together,” Luke adds, “and I mean, together together, there’s no way they’ll let us be the way we are right now.”

No more hand holding under tables. Or friendly kisses on shoulders. Or hugs just because you feel like it.

You only realize you’re frowning when Luke kisses you again.

“They’ll ban us from being near each other,” he mumbles against your lips. “And then make us watch another awful sex ed video.”

Ah. That’d been Mr. D’s one final punishment for you both.

You’d been forced to sit down in the Big House while they played that video for the two of you, both of your faces on fire. The video had been on an old VHS tape and you’d watched it on an ancient box television, so you and Luke had been forced to sit shoulder to shoulder during the most uncomfortable fifteen minutes of your life.

“I forgot about that,” you say, thinking about how you’d been unable to look him in the eye after. “We should’ve had him charged for cruel and unusual punishment.”

Luke grins, and you find that your chest pulls in on itself. You love Luke. You want everyone to know.

“I’m still sad,” you say quietly. “Sometimes I wish we were normal, but now I really do.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“If we were normal I wouldn’t have to keep you a secret.” You run a hand through the curls hanging over his forehead, letting them get tangled in your fingers. “We could just have each other and… I don’t know. Be normal.”

He rubs a long circle into your hip, leaning forward so his nose knocks against yours. You go cross-eyed trying to look at him.

“Yeah. Normal.”

Normal teenagers don’t have to live their lives behind an invisible barrier because of the threat of mythological monsters. Normal teenagers go to school, and live in real houses, and don’t have to pretend they aren’t dating their best friend.

Jealousy burns hot under your skin.

Luke knows. He holds you out on the dock until the ring of the conch shell sounds in the distance.

—

The two of you don’t end up formally talking about it — not in the way you’d expected. But thinking about having to flat out ask if you’re dating feels weird when the both of you just know.

You doubt the decision at first, nerves and uncertainty looming over your head. You’ve never dated anyone before, but you know it’s probably normal to at least say something to make it official.

But then you feel the way Luke slots his hands with yours on the walk back to his cabin, different but sure, and you know it’s real.

It’s as real as your lungs expanding in your chest and as real as the kiss you give him before you go to breakfast, his hands closing around one of his spare camp shirts hanging over your shoulders.

The two of you walk so close together your shoulders brush with each step, and you stay like that all the way until the pavilion, your heart racing.

Everyone’s already seated. Your tables are right next to each other by some stroke of luck, everyone already getting started on breakfast.

Luke only lets you go when you have to sit down, giving you one last lingering squeeze on your shoulder before greeting his own campers.

“Where were you?”

Clarisse spits out the words the second you sit down across from her, squinting at you.

“I slept over.” You scoop some food onto your plate, surprised to see it’s not completely gone yet. Meals are usually a bloodbath. “Where did you think?”

She ignores your question. “Obviously you slept over. I mean why didn’t you and Castellan show up with the rest of his losers?”

You don’t quite look at her, trying to relax your nerves while you think of what the version of you from last week would’ve said. You’re an okay liar, but Clarisse is known for pressing and squeezing and wringing people out until she gets an answer she wants.

You end up giving a nonchalant shrug, filling your goblet and taking a long sip. “We took a while to get ready. Why?”

You can’t see the face she makes because one of your sisters reaches across her to reach for the plate of fruit. When she sits back down, you are met with her narrowed eyes and hard stare.

“Chris said you guys were gone from the cabin this morning. Where were you actually?”

“Chris,” you say thoughtfully, your eyebrows raising. “Didn’t know you two were close.”

She’s not amused. She points her fork at you accusingly. “Can you answer my questions?”

“We were at the lake,” you say, your voice pitching at the end in annoyance. “What’s with the interrogation?”

“This early?” she pries. You groan before you can stop yourself. “Doing what?”

Her raised voice draws the attention of Nathan, who butts into your conversation.

“Fucking around with her boyfriend, Clarisse,” he says, a smug smile on his face. He turns his back to you and wraps his arms around himself, miming kissing noises and moans of Luke’s name.

You whip your fork at him, which he is unfortunately quick enough to bat away.

“You’re fucking disgusting, Nate,” you snap, your face undeniably warm. You resist the urge to turn around in your seat to see if Luke heard.

He just shrugs, grinning at you with a mouth full of food.

“And Clarisse,” you hiss, turning to her. “We just woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep. Are you happy?”

She seems to accept your answer but doesn’t stop giving you that stare of hers. “Was just wondering.”

“Wonder a little less, maybe.”

She rolls her eyes and finally goes back to eating, leaving you to your own meal while your siblings talk about their bets for whatever activity they have planned for later.

You zone out in a second. You find that it’s very easy letting yourself get swept up in dreams about being normal.

—

Thoughts about you and Luke and the future and everything in between rage through your mind, and you pay miserably for it.

Your cabin rushes to the climbing wall after burning their offerings, as excited as always for the cutthroat competition. You only realize how far away your mind is when you’re barely fast enough to dodge the flaming boulders coming your way.

You give yourself a break after almost getting your hair singed off by the lava, your chest heaving with exertion. Clarisse gives you a very unimpressed look, her eyebrow raised and her lips pressed into a thin line. You’d been lagging so far behind that she’d had time to sit and wait for you at the top.

“I’m getting a drink,” you say to one of your younger brothers next to you.

You aren’t sure he actually hears you, though, his eyes looking a little dazed from the rock that’d whacked him in the head earlier.

There’s a cooler just by the edge of the arena, filled to the brim with melting ice and wet plastic water bottles. You’re lucky that no one takes much notice when you head towards the mess hall instead.

It feels like your head is slamming against your skull from how hard you’re thinking, so you let the slight breeze cool you down while you walk.

You love Luke, and he loves you too. That much is clear, but you can’t help the way that doubt gnaws on your insides.

How long do you have to keep it a secret? Until the end of this year, or even longer? Does he plan on staying here this summer? Do you?

It’s the start of July, which means that there’s only about a month and a half left of camp. Once the middle of August hits, the non-year-rounders will leave for the rest of the year, going home to see their families and their friends and go to school.

You’ve taken plenty of classes yourself, courtesy of Chiron, who wouldn’t let any of you fall behind academically. But those were lessons taken at the amphitheater, and at the mess hall, or in your cabins. You haven’t been in a real school since…

Gods, when was it? The second grade?

It’s been about five long years since you’ve moved to Camp Half-Blood, which means it’s been five years of watching everyone move in and out. Each of them go on to live real lives—something you’d do anything for.

Sam, a girl from Apollo, just got accepted to some prestigious school for music about an hour away. Annabeth’s older brother, Martin, is heading down to Jersey at the end of this month to spend time with his family before leaving for college.

And you want to do it too, more than anything. But you don’t think you’d be able to do it without Luke.

You remember a conversation you had by the lake years ago, sometime before he had left for his quest. You’d planned to leave together—go to college and live somewhere away from New York.

California had been the dream, of course, but it didn’t matter where you were. It mattered if you were together.

But the two of you are old enough to enroll now, and Luke hasn’t said a word about leaving this summer. You’re honestly scared that he never will.

The next fall semester deadline has crept up on you faster than you’d thought. You’d have to make a decision soon, and the thought of it was impossible.

Your movements are near robotic while you drink from the water fountain by the side of the mess hall. It’s empty at this time of day, and you let your thoughts cloud your senses.

It’s why you jump when Luke appears at your side.

“Sorry,” he says through his laugh. He has an easy grin on his face and pats your back while you cough to clear your throat. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Luke wipes the water from your face while you give him a closed-mouth smile. There’s a wet spot on your shirt from where water had dripped down your chin, but it’s so hot out that it’ll dry in no time.

“You okay?” he asks when you don’t answer. “I was calling your name.”

You nod, watching as the smile on his face fades into just the softness of his eyes. You look down the hill where the rest of his cabin is, playing a game in the field between here and the beach.

Luke doesn’t look tired at all, though he’s breathing a little hard, like he’s just come back from a run. You watch a frisbee fly in the distance and understand why.

“I was melting by the climbing wall. I wanted a break,” you explain, fanning your face. You can’t believe it’s this hot out when it’d been freezing a few hours ago.

Luke nods in understanding. “Want to join us?” he offers, gesturing to where his siblings are. Someone gets tackled into the grass, and a collective groan travels through the crowd of kids. “It’s not nearly as hot here. It’s pretty windy since we’re close to the water.”

You shake your head, letting yourself sit and stare at his face. You study his features—the shapes of his eyes and the crease between them—and comply as easily as a soldier when he nods in the direction of one of the tables. He urges you to sit but doesn’t follow, leaning against the marble and letting you wring out his hands.

“What’s got you so sad?” he asks, letting you squeeze his palms intermittently.

“The summer session is almost over.”

He nods. “It is. A little more than a month, yeah?”

“Yeah.” August 16th is marked on your calendar with a massive red circle. “Did you—did you know that more people are leaving camp for college this year than any other year we’ve been here?”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Good for them,” he says, a smile pulling at his face. “But you don’t have to be sad about that. They’ll visit. And we can always write as often as we want.”

You shake your head, your brows furrowing. “No. That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh. What is it, then?”

You swallow before speaking. His head is turned while he assesses you, and you remind yourself that it’s just Luke. You can admit anything to him.

“I’m scared.”

He pushes hair away from your face, soft as always. “They’ll be safe,” he assures. “It’s what they’ve been training for for so long.”

You shake your head again before you let the words spill out. “Luke, I’m scared that we’re going to be stuck here forever.”

It ends up sounding more like one huge word than a coherent sentence, but you know he still understands.

He drops down next to you on the bench so he can look at you better. “We won’t. We’re going to leave together, aren’t we?”

“I want to leave camp at the end of the summer session,” you admit. You can’t help but feel like you’re committing an act of betrayal against the place that’s kept you safe for so long. “I love it here, I do, I just… I can’t stay here for another year. I want to… I want to—”

“You want to leave? This summer?” he can’t help but ask, his eyes widened the slightest bit. He’s rubbing your hands in the way that always soothes you. “You—you want to go now?”

It hurts to admit, almost. Last summer, you’d put it off for another year, but you know it’s time to go.

You want to leave Camp Half-Blood.

“Yes,” you say. “I do.”

You aren’t sure how Luke will answer. All you’ve known for the last five years of your lives is this. It’s fireside singalongs and Capture the Flag. It’s always being together, and your spot by the lake, and never having to worry about getting hurt at the hands of another monster.

You don’t expect for Luke’s entire chest to stutter as his sigh of relief gets caught between his laugh. “Me too.”

“You… wait, you also want to leave this summer?”

Luke nods quickly, drawing your hands closer to him. “I do. I think… I think I’ve been ready to go for a while.”

You can picture everything now: you, Luke, and California, just like you’d always planned. Sunshine and school on the west coast.

“It’s just me and you, killer,” he swears.

“Me and you,” you repeat. It sounds a lot like a promise.

He starts mirroring the smile that’s growing on your face, and it does nothing but make yours widen even further.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, unable to help himself. You lean closer to him just because. “I didn’t think I’d be able to leave without you with me.”

“Me too,” you say honestly. “I would wait here until we were fifty if it took you another thirty years to decide to leave.”

He laughs, one of his arms going around your waist. “You really have no idea.”

The two of you don’t move apart. Your hand finds its way into his hair like it always does when you’re sitting this close together, feeling his curls that are hot from the sun.

You feel hot from the sun too, and it only worsens when he slots his lips against yours again for a kiss that’s over so quickly you almost miss it.

“Does this mean this is our last month at camp?” you can’t help but ask. The thought of it is making your heart ache. You can’t imagine leaving this place behind.

The realization settles slowly on Luke’s face too. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

You shut your eyes and relish in the feeling of the breeze from the water as it rolls in. This is the last month you’ll spend in the place that raised you. You aren’t sure how you’ll say goodbye to it all.

“Luke!” a voice shrieks from nearby.

You’ll have to say goodbye to your family. And Luke’s family too, the one that’s currently walking up the hill towards you now.

You can’t help but inch apart as if you’d been doing anything but holding him. The group of kids flood into the mess hall, grumbling and arguing amongst themselves. It’s impossible to miss the fact that everyone has at least one part of their person stained with grass.

Chris managed to survive mostly unscathed, save for the line of dirt smeared down his arm. He’s staring openly at the space between both of you, an eyebrow raised. After a second, he snorts. “I think this is the farthest apart I’ve ever seen you two sit.”

“Shut up, Chris,” you say, though there’s no real bite to it.

Luke ignores him, but you can tell he’s a little flustered when he stutters for a second while talking to the kids.

There’s been an issue between one of his sisters and a son of Hecate. One of them had played dirty by pulling on the other’s shirt, and then they’d both fallen into a heap on the ground.

It doesn’t explain why everyone else looks like they’d gotten dragged through the mud—especially Chris, cause he’d been reffing—but Luke doesn’t mention it. He uses his camp counselor magic to make them apologize to each other and the crowd of kids rushes away again, ready for another round.

There’s a certain kind of look on his face while he watches them go. You lean into his side again and the two of you watch as the frisbee gets thrown into the air at Chris’ whistle.

“I’m going to miss this,” you say.

How do you leave behind a place you call home?

Luke presses a kiss into your forehead. “It’ll be okay.”

He sounds so sure of himself, you can’t help but agree.

—

The month of July passes almost as quickly as it came.

You and Luke keep quiet about your relationship and your plans to leave, and you find that you don’t mind keeping those secrets anymore.

You receive a mountain of notes from him each day, all of them signed with his first initial and slipped into your pockets or hidden between your things. The contents of the notes range from little compliments to heartfelt messages you read so often the paper grows worn out.

You commit each and every one of them to memory.

One of your favorite notes had been delivered to you by one of the younger campers. You’d been sweating like a pig after a match with Clarisse when one of his little brothers came right up to you with a piece of paper clenched in his fists.

“Hey, Richie,” you’d said, crouching down to talk to him better. “What’s up?”

He’d shoved the paper into your hands, wiping sweat off his brow. “This is from Luke.”

He’d looked totally wiped, so you gave him a water bottle and fanned his face for him. He drank it in that very audible way all little kids do.

“Did Luke have you bring this all the way to me?” you’d asked, bringing the boy under the shade of a tree. The Hermes cabin was at the arts and crafts cabin right now, a pretty far distance away.

Richie nodded furiously. “He said it was an important message and I couldn’t look at it.”

Your brows had furrowed, and you were quick to unfold the paper. It’d been a thicker material than usual, the side jagged like it’d been ripped out of a book.

It was a coloring page. Two warriors, side by side, colored in with waxy crayon. There was a pink heart drawn between them, and in Luke’s handwriting at the bottom, it read:

Us.

You must’ve been grinning like a fool, because Clarisse whacked you upside the head.

“The hell are you grinning about?”

She’d moved to grab the paper out of your hands, but you’d shoved it into your back pocket before she could manage it.

“Nothing.”

“You look flustered. What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” you’d insisted, your smile only growing. The soreness of your muscles was instantly cured. You didn’t feel exhausted at all.

Clarisse definitely hadn’t believed you, but that was fine.

You think this month with Luke has been the happiest you’ve ever been. You’ve always been clingy with each other, but it makes new emotion well up in your chest when you hold his hand now. You curl into his side by the fire and he pulls you against him, and not just as friends. It makes you feel hot and cold and unwell.

And you get to kiss him like this now.

That’s good too.

It’s the annual Pie Eating Contest today, where the cabin that eats the most pies is set free from chores for two entire months. No one would dare miss such an important event—which is exactly why the two of you have escaped to your cabin.

You think Luke likes it when he can kiss you lying down, but you think he likes it even more when you sit on his lap like this. His eyes are just the tiniest bit wider, and he sometimes smiles without really realizing it when he pulls back from smothering you in kisses.

“You look cute,” he compliments, eyes shining.

Luke’s back is propped against the headboard and you’re very pliable draped over his front. His hands are placed on your hips, and every once in a while one of them will inch up towards your ribs and you’ll get ticklish.

“Thanks, hero.”

You also think Luke really likes it when you call him that—a silly nickname from years ago you’ll never let go of.

Your lips are swollen from how insistent Luke’s been with his kisses, and you’re resting your chin over his shoulder, limp and tired. You’re exhausted from the run around camp he forced you on earlier and are now happy to let him do whatever he’d like. He’s taken full advantage of it, your lips worked over by his mouth a million times over.

“Did you make me do all that running earlier so you could have your evil way with me?”

You think your shirt collar is going to be stretched out with the way that he’s been pulling on it for the past hour, taking care to only kiss you hard where no one else will see. The two of you have been kissing as lazily as humanly possible, but it hasn’t stopped Luke from waging war on the skin of your throat.

“Who do you think I am?” he asks, pulling you closer in a way that makes you choke. He gives you a very pleased smile in return when you try to shove your face into his shoulder.

“Someone who wants me dead,” you complain when he tries to pry your face away from him.

Your eyes slide shut when you tilt your head down to kiss him again, your mouths moving so slowly you aren’t sure if it even counts as kissing anymore. One of Luke’s hands splays itself across your lower back, his touch warm.

You’re sitting flush against his front, and you realize distantly that you can make out the lines of his chest where he’s pressed to you.

“I can’t wait until we get to have our own place,” you say absentmindedly.

Luke snickers. He pinches your sides. “Can’t wait until you get to have your way with me? That’s dirty, killer.”

You do wonder what it’d be like to be able to kiss him without the threat of twenty other people walking in, but that’s not totally why. You’re about to defend yourself, but then he encourages you onto your back and your vocabulary seeps directly from your brain and out your ears.

He takes extra care not to hit you in the face with the beads on his necklace, and he very politely pulls down your shirt so your stomach is no longer exposed.

“You’re burning up,” he says, like he hasn’t just sucked the air out of your lungs. “Is this okay?”

You nod your head, letting your hands come around his shoulders to urge him downwards again. He drops onto his forearms to get as close to you as possible, and you drag his upper lip between yours, enjoying the way it makes him shudder. You’d accidentally bitten him there earlier when you’d gotten a little too jittery, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Luke’s humming when he takes his hand down to your thigh and rubs half circles into the skin. Your hands link together and you bring his to your chest, where he feels the rise and fall just next to your racing heart.

The sound of the conch signaling the end of the contest is just barely audible over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

You probably would’ve bolted upright in bed if Luke wasn’t pinning you, his teeth dragging over a sore hickey.

“Luke,” you protest lightly, nudging at his chest.

His eyebrows furrow, eyes still shut. “Huh?”

Pulling away takes every ounce of willpower you have. “The contest is over. I have to go talk to Chiron.”

“Okay,” he agrees, capturing your lips in another kiss. “In a second.”

It pains you when you swerve away from him, but you do this dance every other day and know that ‘a second’ usually means fifteen more minutes. He looks offended.

“I have places to be, people to talk to,” you say, trying to be stern. “Get up, Luke. I’ll be back.”

Even though you’re alone, you know you’re playing a risky game now that lunch is over. He’s frowning, and you exercise the highest level of restraint when you don’t lean in again to kiss him again.

“You’d seriously rather talk to Chiron than stay here with me?”

“Luke.”

“Gods, what is it? It’s his beard, isn’t it? I should’ve known—”

The comment gets one last laugh from you, and he squeezes you in his arms once more before letting you get up. He settles in the space you’ve just vacated, watching interestedly as you pull your shoes on.

“I’ll try not to let it drag on too long,” you swear. He catches you by the arm when you nearly tip over, your sneaker halfway on. “And you know I wouldn’t go unless it was important. I’ll be done before dinner.”

His eyes are soft. For a second, they look misty, but then he blinks and it’s gone. You wonder what has him thinking so hard.

“Don’t take too long.”

You kiss him again for good measure, nearly falling forward onto the bed when he tries to drag you back towards him.

You huff his name very angrily, but the smile on your face does nothing but encourage him.

“My bad.”

—

The next time you see Luke, it’s after you burst free from the doors of the Big House.

It was hot inside the building, with nothing but the small fan in the corner of Chiron’s office to cool you down. You hadn’t expected the conversation to go on for so long, but it’d been all worth it in the end. He lets you go with a smile and a firm pat on the back.

It’s not late enough for it to be dark out, but the sun has started setting, making it much cooler outside. Luke’s waiting on the wrap around porch for you, a surprise as pleasant as ever. It’s clear he must’ve woken up from a nap because his hair is messy and flat on one side, like he’s just been asleep. He’s leaning against one of the pillars on the patio cracking his knuckles, impatient.

You take him by surprise when you slot yourself against his side. “Nice nap?”

Luke flinches hard before realizing who you are.

“Hey,” he says, his voice sounding more breathless than you’d expected. He slides a hand around your waist. “How’d it go?”

You hadn’t told him why you’d needed to speak to Chiron so badly, and the envelope he’d given you is burning a hole through your pocket.

“I have something to show you,” you blurt out quickly, trying to stop the grin about to take over your face.

“Yeah?” he says. He links your hands together as you walk down the steps. “What is it?”

You lean over to fix his hair with your other hand, flattening out the back. “It’s pretty important.”

The nerves get to you very quickly, your hand already growing slick with sweat. You try freeing yourself from Luke, but he holds fast.

“I have something important to tell you too,” he admits slowly.

The levels of giddiness you’re feeling is right off the charts. You get the urge to come outright and spoil your surprise, but you pinch yourself to stop the words from spilling out.

“Yeah? Wanna head to the lake, then?”

The lake is public to everyone, but you like to pretend it’s a spot for you and Luke only. It’d been where you were the morning you’d first started dating, and where you’d gone the day Luke had come back from his quest. It’s very special, which is why you know that you have to surprise him there.

After all, your days at camp are limited. After you leave, you have no idea when you’ll be back.

Luke lets you lead the way without another word. Campers rush around the two of you, a few of them waving to one or both of you before heading away. You hear the occasional whisper about the events of the pie contest—the Ares cabin had won, of course.

Your meaningless conversation fills the air until you reach the lake. Luke tells you about how upset Travis had been about their loss in the competition this year, and you tell him about the argument you’d gotten into with Mr. D outside of Chiron’s office.

You reach the lake a lot sooner than you had expected. When you let go of Luke’s arm, you realize you’d been basically dragging him the last hundred yards to the water.

The sun is nowhere close to setting—courtesy of it being late July—but you can hear the crickets between the trees and you can tell it’s coming up on late afternoon.

Luke stares at you expectantly, so you break the silence.

“Do you want to go first?”

He cracks his knuckles again, starting from his middle finger and working outwards. “Oh, uh… no. You go first.”

You don’t need too much convincing.

“Okay,” you say quickly, your hand moving to your back pocket. You miss it about three times before you pass him the envelope with shaking hands.

“I’ve been talking to my sister.”

Luke loves Mel. She writes to you all the time from California to update you on her life and always has the craziest stories from her college there. You and Luke used to pore over her letters, dreaming about the west coast and the sunsets on the beaches there.

“She’s doing great. She moved off-campus for her last year,” you explain.

Luke nods along, drumming the envelope against the palm of his opposite hand.

“And she…” You trail off, the words getting jumbled in your mind. “Just open it, Luke.”

The envelope scrapes against itself when he pulls open the flap, and the two thin leafs of paper spill out onto his hand.

His mouth parts.

“She knows how badly we’ve been wanting to see California, and… now we can.”

The two glossy plane tickets shine under the light of the sun.

“And she’s out of the dorms now, so she’s offered us a room to stay in at her apartment.” You look up at him, apprehensive. He looks stunned, flipping the paper over in his hand like it’s a trick of the light. “We can go see her and get a feel for California. Look at colleges like we’d planned.”

His hands still, and you realize the fluttering of the paper a second ago had been due to his hands shaking. The tickets disappear inside the envelope again, and he wipes at his face.

“Shit,” he says. “I…”

You aren’t sure what’s wrong, but he’s upset. He’s frowning hard, his brows creasing with stress, and the feeling of your chest dropping makes you want to vomit.

“What’s wrong?”

Luke shakes his head firmly. He steps backward. He won’t look at you.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, killer, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say. He hasn’t even explained what he’s sorry for, but you already know you’ll forgive him. You reach for his hands, and it feels like your ribs force inward around your heart when he moves even further away. “What’s the matter? Talk to me.”

“I can’t,” he grits out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t.”

“Go to California?” you ask, confusion distorting the features of your face. You don’t try reaching for him again despite how badly you want to. “Luke, you—you know that’s okay. We don’t even have to go.”

The words start rushing out as you try working out what’s wrong. You want Luke to leave with you, so, so badly. But you know deep down that you’re willing to stay another ten years if he’s changed his mind.

“We could go to another state. Or—or, stay here. We don’t even have to leave at all. I mean, I don’t even want to go that badly.”

You’re lying to him. Leaving with him at the end of the summer has been the only thing you’ve looked forward to for the past month.

Worry lines crease between his eyes as he stares at you, shaking his head robotically.

You can’t tell why you feel so nervous.

It’s just Luke.

The sun dips quickly past the tree line, casting half of his face in darkness. Your hands wrinkle and curl into the hem of your shirt.

It’s like a switch turns off in Luke’s eyes. You watch his face harden as he prepares himself for what he’s about to say, and your chest plummets before his mouth can even form around the words.

“I’m not talking about California,” Luke says, the word biting.

A hawk flies above your heads. The trees go silent behind you.

“I meant us. I can’t do this anymore.”

Your heart hitches inside of your chest.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve been this scared.

notes: sorry for that ending but all will be explained in due time! lmk what u thought :)

[starswillow]

YOU ARE EVIL AND YOU NEED TO BE DESTROYED

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants. 

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision. 

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered. 

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.  

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost. 

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly. 

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words. 

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses. 

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own. 

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

taglist🏷️ : @pleasingregulus , @weasleylovers , @telliette , @jarofshells , @jess-fae , @s0urw00lf , @srvbryn , @justanotherkpopstanlol , @coryoskywalker , @simplyjake , @girlyp-0-p , @aquangxl , @lovebug0 , @number-onekidqueen , @mxtokko , @patitotodd , @gloryekaterina , @simpforsunwoo , @ladyslytherin7 , @criesinlies , @mashiromochi , @quackitysdrugdealer , @jadahxx , @maraschinocherry3 , @trovailleangel , @daliscrim , @wicca-void , @girljakeperalta , @kurtcobaingirlie , @yourlocaldelusional , @elisa20beth , @lifeonawhim , @ivyy-covered-walls , @star-flecked-soul , @maxinehufflepuffprincess , @flower-lise , @coc0lepigeon , @bitterspoons , @bigolidioot, @honeynicoole , @y0urm0m12 , @iammightsadyall , @cherr-y-eji , @riaaavm (lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3 pls make sure ur tags on on! )

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[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | smau: the boys visit unc!

a/n: you will literally have to rip poisoned mercury out of my cold dead hands. im not leaving them behind.

poisoned mercury smau masterlist | series masterlist

yns_privateacc: the boys are in town… let the chaos ensue

notluke: not you exposing my cards to the world 😕

notluke: now they know what i have

tswizzle_: i promise u nobody was choosing ur cards bro u are NOT funny

notluke: your mom thinks im funny

yns_privateacc: notluke boo YOU STINK. make better jokes!!!

notluke: yns_privateacc :(

lena_b: i still have that bruise from when connor shoved me

cstoll: there was a car coming?!? i saved your life????

charliebeck: i dont go out with you guys ONE TIME and you’re walking in the middle of the road? smh

lena_b: charliebeck sorry babe

tagged chr1sr0d, notluke, and charliebeck.

clarisselalala: the way the bfs act like my and yns_privateacc’s room is theirs 🙄

chr1sr0d: your bed is comfy

chr1sr0d: gonna stay here forever

clarisselalala: that can be arranged

yns_privateacc: uhh no? i don’t wanna be permanently sexiled thank u

notluke: yns_privateacc you can sleep in my bed 👀

tswizzle_: get a room notluke yns_privateacc

yns_privateacc: can’t bc clar and chris STOLE IT

lena_b: your room is the party room 🤷🏽‍♀️

liked by charliebeck.

clarisselalala posted a story!

the lovebirds 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

tagged notluke and yns_privateacc.

yns_privateacc replied to this story:

yns_privateacc: this is so cute send me this pls

liked by clarisselalala.

cstoll replied to this story:

cstoll: yuck

cstoll: (god are you there when is it my turn?)

clarisselalala: WOMP WOMP

tswizzle_ replied to this story:

tswizzle_: mom and dad fr

clarisselalala: i thought me and chris were mom and dad? 🤨

tswizzle_: given that i come from a broken home i think im deserving of two sets of parents

clarisselalala: oh that’s not—

notluke posted a story!

fearing for my life in the backseat. yns_privateacc CANNOT drive.

yns_privateacc replied to this story:

yns_privateacc: so walk

notluke: im just kidding baby pls

notluke: its a joke

notluke: gimme a kiss

yns_privateacc: we’re literally in the same car right now 😭😭😭

notluke: exactly so gimme a kiss

notluke: at the next stop light tho u need to keep your eyes on the road

yns_privateacc: 😐

lena_b posted a story!

new ick unlocked: watching our bfs ride bikes

tagged yns_privateacc and clarisselalala.

charliebeck replied to this story:

charliebeck: HOW IS THIS AN ICK

charliebeck: HOW ELSE ARE WE SUPPOSED TO RIDE BIKES

lena_b: why are you as a man riding a bike

charliebeck: BECAUSE YOU ASKED TO GO ON A TRIPLE BIKE RIDING DATE?

notluke replied to this story:

notluke: DELETE THSI???

notluke: LENA WHY DO I LOOK LIKE THAT FROM THE BAXK

notluke: is this how people perceive me

lena_b: yes

read by notluke.

chr1sr0d replied to this story:

chr1sr0d: why do i look so tiny

chr1sr0d: tell charlie to send his workout routine asap

lena_b: chris, charlie is a d1 football player.

chr1sr0d: anything is possible if you believe

chr1sr0d: i mean i pulled clarisse so 🤷🏽‍♂️

lena_b: YEAAAAHHHH YOU DID

tagged yns_privateacc.

notluke: my muse. my five star.

yns_privateacc: i love you pretty boy

yns_privateacc: come back soon

notluke: i love you baby

tswizzle_: AWWW SHUCKS

tswizzle_: “i love you” ????? MY BOY FINALLY SAID IT

notluke: i wasn’t gonna tell her i love her for the first time over the phone trav 😭

cstoll: finally you’ll stop freaking out over how to tell her you love her

cstoll: yns_privateacc bro was STRESSIN

notluke: CHILL?!!!??

lena_b: SHUT YP THIS IS SO CUTE

liked by notluke.

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

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

word count: 6.2k

content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.

notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear

PART IV — better yet, she wouldn’t care 

“If I have to hear one more handjob joke, I’m gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.” 

Lee Fletcher’s dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, “Bare with me, newbie.”

You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on — you’d had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time you’d broken your wrist you’d been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldn’t help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadn’t trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury — when you probably should’ve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game. 

It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldn’t have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians — barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didn’t have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been standing right in front of the notice board.” Luke had been saying all week. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to accompany you there, then.” You replied every time. 

Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, “Well, it’s looking good. I don’t think you need this anymore.” 

He lifted up the knot of bandage he’d removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, “You’re the best.” 

“I’m told.” He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, “But you should still take it easy today. It’s your first game, and you’ve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.” 

You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, “I’m not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. I’m beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.”

“He’s on your team.” 

“I don’t care.” You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. “See you later!” 

The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didn’t realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didn’t see the relevance — after you’d broken your wrist, the boy hadn’t even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn to…sit around and watch him train. 

Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasn’t letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile. 

“I think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.” 

You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, “Hey. I’ve only been here twice.”

“In…” He checked his imaginary watch, “One week. That’s gotta be a record.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, “Okay. I’m still learning, leave me alone.” 

“We’ll see how much you’ve learnt later today.” He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, “Good luck.” 

“Thanks.” You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes. 

“Come on, clumsy. Let’s get to training.” He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations. 

For this game, they’d paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened. 

Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls — Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all. 

Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadn’t taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off. 

“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood. 

Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch. 

“Okay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.” The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. “You all know the deal. I won’t repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, but…” She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, “You know where to go. We’ve been practising this, and in a couple of hours it’ll be time to bring home yet another win.”

“It’s pretty much all in the cards for us.” Luke cropped himself into the speech, “Cabin Nine have their special machinery but we’ve got wit, power and numbers. We’ll be fine.” 

“Speaking of cabin nine.” Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, “I grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didn’t sabotage it.”

She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you. 

“Wait.” You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, “This is mine?” 

“You’re damn right.” She smirked, “Jake was having a field day making that thing, couldn’t stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,” She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, “They’re lethal. You’ll be unbeatable out there with this thing.” 

“Cool.” You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, “Whoops.” 

You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought — a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusa’s head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. You’d have to ask Jake about that later. 

“We have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we won’t bore you with details.” A young girl who you’d seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. “But if I see you lazing around, I’ll put my dagger through your foot.”

There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him. 

“Sunny.” He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, “This is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.”

You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, “Hey, Annabeth.” You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you. 

Luckily she nodded, “Hi. You better be good with that spear.”

“I’d like to think I am.” You joked. She didn’t laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing you’d been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, “I think she gets her stoic indifference from you.” 

He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, “Yeah. She’s a firecracker.” He looked at you firmly, “Think you’ll be good for this game? It’s not too late to back out.”

You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, “You just want an excuse to use this instead of me. I’m fine, JoJo.”

He raised a single brow, “Fine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, I’m not gonna kiss your wounds better.”

You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, “You wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

He laughed, hand on heart, “Right.” 

You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasn’t made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didn’t stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought. 

You would’ve practised the whole time had it not started raining — something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could just…make it rain, but you went along with it. You’d only been a demigod for a week after all. 

Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night — you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up. 

You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, “Stolls. What do you want?”

A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, “Bold to assume we want anything.” 

“I mean, we do.” Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. “Ow! Asshole.”

“Cut to it.” You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless. 

“Well…” Connor started. 

“Luke put us on second offence.” Travis continued. 

“But we sorta hate doing second offence.” 

“Yeah, it’s way too much work.”

Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, “And we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.”

“So you wanna swap spots?” You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, “Ok, first of all, there’s two of you and one of me. You’ll have to find someone else to swap with too.”

“Already done.” Travis nodded, “Sabine loves second offence.”

“Second of all,” You sent them firm looks, “Luke isn’t going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.”

“Which is why we aren’t telling them.” Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like he’d presented you with the best idea ever conjured, “Luke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.”

“Plus,” Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, “This is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.”

“Yeah, Luke’s had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.” Connor raised a teasing brow, “Why not show him what you’re made of?” 

You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word. 

The rain hadn’t settled — Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasn’t too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket — Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldn’t keep up with her I’m too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you! 

“Welcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!” Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. “The usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!” 

There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded — they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.

“Hey.” Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, “You got this, Sunny.”

You nodded, “Damn right I do.” 

It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldn’t hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same. 

It wasn’t long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, “Shove off, punks.”

Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters. 

“Stupid kids. Can’t be trusted on last offence let alone second. It’s not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.”

You didn’t bother responding — whether you were going to agree or come to Luke’s defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look. 

“Those Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.” Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder. 

The twins didn’t question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone. 

Then it was a waiting game. 

“Fuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.” 

Evie scoffed, shaking her head, “No. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.” 

Sabine hummed, “No. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.”

You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer. 

“No, see —“ You huffed, “I couldn’t marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.”

“But we all agree on killing Hermes, right?” Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, “Ok. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis and…Hypnos.” 

There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay — He’d fall asleep halfway through! — but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, she’d never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees. 

Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side. 

Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves. 

A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action — you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height. 

You’d seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucks…fucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too. 

But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again. 

Briefly, you could hear your peers’ own battles. There weren’t any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lighting, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t land that second hit. 

Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear. 

The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks.  

Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more. 

You’d completely forgotten you weren’t alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head. 

There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers — the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse — the blue team's flag in hand. They weren’t moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.

Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, “Move!”

And they did. Even when the blue team kids you’d been fighting  before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory. 

They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations — the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it. 

Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, “I don’t…I don’t know what happened, it just —“

But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else. 

When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed — how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you. 

You almost missed Chiron's next words,  

“Zeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.” He shouted your name, but it didn’t feel right in your ears, “Daughter of the Sky God.”

When you couldn’t stand the sight of it — when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they weren’t staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud. 

After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped. 

The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears — you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldn’t answer that. 

They Iris-Messaged your mother — who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. She’d had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most. 

“This new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.” Was one of the last things he said, “But you should be fine, since you’re seventeen.”

“Why does me being seventeen mean anything?” 

Zeus’ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if you’re only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if you’re planning on living there. There weren’t any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didn’t have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head — he could smite you for it, you didn’t really care anymore. 

You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room — you thought they’d have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them — and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door. 

It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, “Hi.”

She smiled back, full of pity, “Hey. Just thought I’d come check on you, we haven’t seen you in hours.”

“I didn’t like them staring at me.” You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, I get that.” Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, “But, um, it’s dinner right about now. Wanna…come with?”

You didn’t really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, “Sure.” 

The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something — maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we can’t be friends anymore because you’re forbidden. You didn’t stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged. 

You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadn’t seen him all day, he hadn’t seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt. 

So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont. 

You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry. 

People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt. 

“What the hell, man?” He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, “You’ve changed, bro. And not for the better.”

Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction — and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed. 

He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into that…thing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow. 

He turned to you, “What?”

You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, “I…uh…”

Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, “Go to the campfire.”

“What —?”

“Go to the campfire.” He was backing away, “Entertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I don’t know. Do something, but don’t do it here.” 

You weren’t having that. Your gaze hardened, “Hey. You’re not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.”

“I —“ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. “You disappeared.”

“I was in the Big House, being interrogated.” You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, “I would’ve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.” 

He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, “I’m your best friend?” 

You cracked a tiny smile, “Of course you are, idiot.” 

His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. “I don’t hate you.” He said, “I don’t care that Zeus is your dad. It’s just…”

“He forgot about me.” 

“What?”

You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what you’d been avoiding since you left the Big House, “Zeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.” 

Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her. 

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” He said in a low murmur. “Thalia was a friend of mine and Annabeth’s. Brought back some rough memories.” 

“Oh.” You breathed, “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry.” 

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didn’t like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldn’t help it — you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears. 

Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling. 

Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You weren’t forbidden enough for them, apparently. 

“Sorry for shoving Chris.” He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, “He was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying but…”

“I don’t care.”

His lips shut with a smack, “What?”

You let out a sad chuckle, “Be miserable. I don’t care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Y’know? This isn’t the happiest life.” 

Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. You’d let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears. 

You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier. 

“Anna Banana.” Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, “What are ya’ doing over here?”

The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, “So, you’re Zeus’ kid.”

“Yup.”

“I knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.” She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged — it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Zeus’. You sent her a kind smile. 

She returned it, glancing at Luke then, “Don’t call me that.” 

He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, “You were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.”

“Maybe they could.” You nodded. 

She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, “She likes me.” 

He smiled fully, amused, “She does.”

“You like me.”

A little sheepish, “I do.”

“So who cares if daddy dearest doesn’t?” You settled on, tilting your head, “We got each other.” 

Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didn’t work idk what’s going on)

[unmarlou]

i know you.

pairings. luke castellan x daughter of zeus!reader.

summary. when luke starts sneaking back into camp to see you, he’s changed.

fillemarlou says. being a daughter of zeus isn’t relevant at all to the story i just needed an empty cabin to use LMAO.

· · ୨୧ · ·

you thought back to the first time you noticed it.

it wasn’t the first time he visited, or the second, or even the third. it was right around when you got comfortable with him again, when you began to forget that luke was no longer welcome here and that you’d be a traitor all the same.

the sheets of cabin one were never scratchy so long as he lay in them. his bare rising and falling chest was rhythmic underneath your ear, the only sound being a mixture of leveling breaths and a distant wind chime hung at the big house.

minutes had passed and still he was wordless. breaths kept hitching as if he were going to say something, but suddenly thought better of it and let go.

his delicate hands rested on your body, one hand mindlessly moving up and down your exposed back, the other on the forearm of yours that was strewn across his abdomen. this was typical of his visits, though the lack of conversation was not.

not that he’d tell you much, he was always reluctant to give answers or explain himself, something you had to adjust to from being so used to a luke who’d divulge all his secrets from just the bat of your lash.

but he did love to ask about you, what were you up to? what new skills had you learned? did you miss him?

the answer to the latter was always, of course. and on cue he’d lean in closely, a lovely hand on your chin to make your eyes meet, and whisper, “soon you won’t have to, i promise.”

but tonight there was none of that. he was silent and as much as you tried to ignore it and simply enjoy the time you had, it plagued your mind. shifting your eyes to see him, his gaze was fixed on the wall ahead, his expression indiscernible.

fully lifting your head from its place of rest, if he wasn’t touching you, you would’ve thought he didn’t even know you were there. the spaced out look on his face was slightly unnerving, causing your hand on his stomach to reach up to his cheek. leading his face to yours, his eyes slowly peeled off the wall to you.

there was a pause in time, where it seemed like he was just looking through you. windows to the soul were facing each other but his were boarded up and sealed off. concern rose in your chest while also feeling slightly dejected, though it might’ve been selfish to think that way in the moment.

with a soft and kind face, your thumb ran tenderly along his scar, the way you used to do all those years ago. like a shift in the tide, he immediately awoke from his trance, closed his eyes, and heaved a great sigh.

the smallest bit of relief came to your aid in knowing that trick still worked. he was still your luke.

upon opening his eyes, they shot back and forth between yours, his hands miraculously remembering you, and flexing for a stronger hold. though you were in his arms, something told you he was still worlds away.

he reached forward and brushed his lips to yours, with the gentleness of handling porcelain. the warmth of his skin was a brief reminder that despite your worries, blood circulated his body, he was here; he was real. he guided you back to his chest, and now, even the wind chimes were silent.

he’d wait for you to fall asleep before he left. however, a secret you’d take to the grave was that you never were sleeping- only pretending- in an attempt to savor his touch, his scent, his very essence. you never did know the next time he’d grace cabin one.

the light had gone out long ago, moonlight now clinging to the walls. his flesh left yours, and your distorted gaze fell on his back. it was littered with scars, mostly old but a few noticeably new- you suddenly understood why he’d insist on holding your hands when sharing a bed.

you watched his large frame lean down, acquire his shirt, and slip it on. as routine he’d sit on the edge of your bed, tying his shoes, readying to creep out the door and away. he once again wore that disturbingly blank expression.

he then did something out of the ordinary: he continued to sit. you tried your best to maintain an even breathing pattern, to raise no suspicions, but it didn’t seem to matter- he hadn’t cared to look back at you a single time.

moments passed on before his head fell to his hands. you could make out the arch of his spine beneath his shirt as his face pressed into his palms. he labored multiple breaths and you fought the urge to take him in your arms, to cradle his fretting mind.

more and more time passed and you found yourself genuinely dosing off, the long day- and now night- catching up to you. your eyes inherently closed and your mind half gone, you finally heard the distant sound of luke’s footsteps and a familiar creak of the door, before allowing a world entirely of your own take over.

-

the crunch of the underbrush made your stomach whirl with each step.

“luke-”

“shhh!”

he was a fair ways ahead of you, weaving through the trees with stealth. he wore a long sleeve underneath his t-shirt, indicative of the chill in the air; you were in pajamas, indicative of just getting out of bed in a rush.

you were tossing and turning this night, unable to forge comfort in your bed, when you heard the snaps of twigs in the distance. the last wordless visit from luke still reeling in your mind, even after weeks, allowed you to peek out of the window, just to be greeted with the far shadows of familiar broad shoulders. so here you were now, trailing behind him in the woods.

the lack of light made it hard to pinpoint where you were exactly, but it seemed familiar enough not to panic. luke was here, he’d never let anything happen to you.

“luke!” your plea was as hushed as you could make it, still hoping for him to stop.

his turnaround was harsh, almost deliberately so. “what?”

his voice ran through the gaps in the trees, causing him to peer around quickly, fearing he’d been too rash. he took a deep and silent breath before stalking back to you.

standing in front of you, the moonlight streaming down encased the two of you just enough to create an illusion of privacy.

he repeated, “what?” he spoke just above a whisper.

“i w…” he practically winced at your tone, a silent reminder alongside his eyes bearing into you with expectance, “where are we going?”

luke had an affinity for being unable to conceal his facial expressions, especially when he was met with a question he thought was stupid. you hated being the subject of this look.

“i just need to check some things out, i’m not staying.” his bluntness would’ve been a sufficient distraction of its own had it not been accompanied by obvious impatience.

with best efforts, you ignored this, always finding it in your heart to be rational and sympathetic. your manner softened as if handling a temperamental child while giving him the opportunity to reciprocate, “i just,” a breeze brushed hair over his shining eyes, “i miss you.”

he was once again boarded up and sealed off. the lack of acknowledgment written on his face was equally hurtful as it was frustrating. seconds passed with his unfazed expression searching yours, and finally, unable to take the haunting gaze, you reached a hand up to brush his moon-illuminated cheek.

without hesitation he maneuvered away, fervent with avoiding your touch. he cleared his throat, “you should go back to your cabin.”

slowly recoiling and folding your arms in front of yourself to conserve what little warmth you had, he didn’t take a second look back before starting on his trek again.

you couldn’t even begin to feel hurt when anger was seeping in and taking over. years of relentlessly critical thoughts came flooding back all at once; how passive he was, how much you were willing to risk for him, how his face would fall to dissatisfaction when he thought you weren’t looking.

unable to help yourself, you called after him, “what do you want from me, luke?”

his halt was abrupt and he peered over his shoulder, “what?” he sounded incredulous, like the proposal of this question was just as stupid as before. his head whipped back to you, his eyes fixed and dark.

tension that had been built over time was boiling now, “you’re shutting me out! you left!” hopelessness was rising in your chest as his jaw clenched in challenge, “what am i supposed to make of that?!”

wind whistled passed trying to take your clothes with it. his familiar nose twitch gave away your getting to him, though he was quick to relent. you spoke again, “tell what it is that i’ve done. tell me what you expect of me.”

“i don’t expect anything of you. i’m not here for you.”

you were staring into his eyes, desperately scouring for something more yet you were met with stone. gods he was so beautiful. why was he breaking your heart?

with a release of pained air, your face remained carved with fury; you were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. you began taking steps back, feeling your head shake slightly but being set on letting that be the last words that hung between you.

turning to leave, he was quick to grab your forearm, his grasp tight and unwavering despite your flexes. you were met with an unnerving glint, “don’t even think about going to chiron.”

the most painful part all of this was luke believed you could betray him just as he did you. never once did the thought of telling cross your mind.

the fatal flaw of loving luke castellan was that even now, looking up at him for a fleeting moment, there was a longing for his comfort. eyes flicked to his chest and you felt as though you could fall right into it without conviction. but the trees rustled above, and reality swept in.

you wrenched your arm from a hand that was once so loving, and unable to stand his gaze much longer, followed the path of least resistance back to camp.

-

the smell of campfire engraved itself into your clothes.

stepping onto the marble stairs leading up to your cabin, you bid a goodnight to the friends you’d be leaving behind for rest. the echo of laughs and avid chatter filled the cul-de-sac of cabins, the camp turning in for sleep with spirits still souring after a night at the amphitheater.

the hearth in the center of your earth raged on, casting everyone in a homey glow. shouts of sleep well! and don’t let the stolls bite! were strewn across porches. giving your final farewells to the outside world, the door of cabin one was opened.

immediately you saw him. to be fair, it wasn’t like he was hiding, and it wasn’t difficult to spot the only person inhabiting the whole place. he sat on the edge of your bed, facing the door, his head hanging into his hands. you felt as though you’d seen this before.

“luke?” your voice seemed impossibly small in the expansive room.

his shoulders instantly tightened as he looked up. catching his full appearance, you took a discreetly sharp inhale of surprise; he was pale, an indescribably striking pale, accompanied by a tear stricken face. his cheeks were glossed from leaking eyes, and his hair was slightly tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it too many times.

this was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, let alone from luke. straight edge, always tidy, never-let-them-see-you-at-your-worst- luke.

you began to thank every god quickly and individually that none of your friends had asked to come back to your cabin to continue the fun, as they usually did after campfire.

“i’m-” his voice was hoarse, “i’m sorry, i…” he shook his head, not finishing his thought before shutting his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears.

you stood frozen at the entryway, still taking in the sight. you truly didn’t think you’d be seeing him again, or at least not like this. you’d been trying your hardest to beat down any remaining soft spot for him after his dismissal of you last time, trying to hold true to your anger.

he wasn’t making it easy.

the air had become stiff despite a breeze sweeping through and a sour taste was advancing on your tongue.

he lifted an arm off his knee and extended it to you. such a small act, yet it incited an internal battle between your heart and your mind. you weren’t sure when the dense pit in your stomach had arrived but were sure it was here to stay.

your eyes on his- they seemed a harsher brown than you were used to, in contrast to his newly stark complexion- they were filled with the most desperation one could have. he was pleading.

he slowly became closer and closer, yet he hadn’t moved from his place on the bed, and you found yourself no longer in the entry way. your heart had presently won. it hammered in your chest, shouting words once spoken aloud, i’m here regardless of the pain, a promise.

reaching his strong hand, placing fingers in his palm, irreverent shock jolted you into the moment. he was cold to the touch, iciness spreading up your arm and tying itself around your neck.

it made your next action quick and practically thoughtless, taking an immediate seat on the edge next to him, still holding his woeful eyes. his heavenly face trembled with more emotion than it could handle, and he fell hastily into your shoulder with a heart-shattering sob.

he clung to your torso like a lifeline, tears warming through your shirt. you deemed the feeling of his shivering body against yours the worst you’ll ever know.

as if his torment was a weight now on both of your shoulders, you two slipped onto the floor, melting into the foundation. but your arms never relented from his. the hiccups of his cries seemed to echo in the vast space.

“i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“i’m so sorry.”

“i know.”

and so this continued. his consistent beg for forgiveness and your incessant declaration of understanding, repeating it so many times it didn’t even sound like english by the end.

cradling him and his fretting mind now, the way you were sure may castellan had when he was young and scrapped his knee, making claims of knowing the pain he was experiencing.

a hand reached down to his cheek and led his face to yours. as a pure act of admiration, your thumb ran tenderly along his scar. watching him intently, you saw a flicker- if only for a second- of the boy you loved, once not hurt by the world he was subjected to.

a whispered, “i know.” meant you did, a solemn swear. it meant don’t tell me to go away from you because i know. it meant his anguish was not his to bear alone.

it meant you knew him regardless if he could recognize himself while looking right in the mirror.

“i know you, luke.”

· · ୨୧ · ·

[deepspacialrift]

nothing happened in the way i wanted

i still love you i promise

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | close as strangers (post chb)

a/n: okayyyy so i didn't give them an angst ending but i had to give into the angst monster at least once for this series so here's a bonus chapter for poisoned mercury. miscommunication galore. long distance is hard! two dumbasses in love!

song: close as strangers by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

"i'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?" luke whispered, trying not to wake his bandmates up. the tour bus was large enough to house them while they were on the road, but it didn't really give the privacy he hoped for. chris was just across the narrow walkway from him and luke could hear his soft snores through the thin curtain that separated them. 

luke felt his heart hammering in his chest when you didn't reply to him. he could still hear your breaths through the phone and you were just talking to him a second ago, so he knew you were still awake. you both had equally busy lives which meant that your phone calls were getting shorter and shorter each day. luke knew it was because you were booked with school and tournaments for field hockey and he was always exhausted after each meeting now that the band was working on their second album. luke knew all of this, but it didn't stop him from missing you. he was lucky to get a ten-minute call with you nowadays. 

"baby?" he tried again, chewing on his bottom lip. he turned to face the ceiling of his bunk, the light from his phone casting a shadow on his face as he waited for you to say something. anything. "can i call you tomorrow?" 

you sighed, "i don't know, luke. i have a busy day. it's a travel game tomorrow so i don't know if i'll be up late." 

"oh," he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment. he felt a little stupid that there were tears pooling in his eyes. so you can't talk tomorrow, it shouldn't be a big deal, right? except that luke felt like you were pulling away from him. little by little. and he didn't know how to stop it. it wasn't like he could drop everything to show up at your doorstep and fix things with you. if it was up to him, he would do it in a heartbeat, but you'd probably get mad at him for it, for abandoning his responsibilities as the lead singer of the most popular band in the world. not to mention the boys would be livid and mr. d and his mom would be equally furious. 

"sorry, maybe next week?" 

"yeah, sure," he replied, thankful that you weren't on facetime tonight. he didn't want you to see his face. "alright, i'll let you get some rest. go kill it tomorrow. g'night, five star." 

"goodnight," you said, ending the call as soon as the last syllable left your lips. 

luke groaned quietly, tossing his phone on the foot of his bed. he knew long distance was going to be difficult. it's been months since he last saw you, months since he was at camp half blood, sleeping in your bed and waking up to the feeling of your lips peppering kisses on his face. maybe he shouldn't have gotten so attached so fast, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. 

he got out from his bunk, tucking his feet into his slippers and made his way to the living room area of the bus. he sat on the couch, peering out the window to watch the empty roads ahead. they were on their way to nashville to meet with a producer that mr. d recommended. the second album was almost done, but it was missing something and none of them wanted to put out a record that didn't meet their expectations. 

mr. d was already in tennessee waiting for them. he'd flown in from houston a few days ago with luke's mom and the rest of the poisoned mercury team while the boys were in atlanta for a movie premiere. they decided that a road trip was needed to de-stress after the glitz and buzz of the red carpet. it was nice to have some alone time with the boys. in their tour bus, luke felt like they were back in connecticut, just four friends fucking around, writing music, and eating junk food until their stomachs hurt. 

he turned on the tv, switching to some random channel that he wasn't paying attention to. he just needed some noise to drown out his thoughts, but that didn't seem to work. all he could think of was you, his five star, and how much he missed you. luke wondered if you were having second thoughts about this whole thing. maybe he'd been too optimistic about things; maybe you weren't on the same page as he was; maybe you realized that it was too difficult to be with him. 

a shiver ran down his spine as he spiraled into his thoughts. admitting to himself that something was wrong between the two of you left a bitter taste in his mouth because he didn't want to believe it. he saw you as his endgame, like nobody else in the world could compare to you, and to think that you may not feel the same about him... well, it was a difficult pill to swallow.

he wondered if he came on too strong, showed his cards too early, and seemed too clingy and lovestruck before it was deemed appropriate. you'd only been together, officially at least, for four months, most of which were long distance, but luke knew he was a goner for you way before that. 

he silently cursed as the chill of the december air hit his skin. he should've worn a hoodie. he grabbed the small throw blanket draped over the armchair and placed it around his shoulders. he wished he got to see you over thanksgiving break because maybe you two wouldn't be in this rocky situation right now, but your coach ordered you and clarisse to stay on campus over break to sharpen your skills since you missed summer training. luke and chris were less than pleased with the idea, but they knew it was out of their control. 

luke fell asleep on the couch that night after succumbing to the tiredness in his body. the sun was beginning to rise by the time his eyelids fluttered shut. he hoped that he'd wake up to a text from you, but when he woke up to the sound of the bus screeching to a halt in nashville, he realized it was the hope that kills. 

-

“are you guys going to the fall concert?” silena asked, poking her head out of the bathroom. she was part of the planning committee for the unc fall semester concert and she’d been stressing over the logistics of it for weeks. 

“lena, if we even tried to miss it, you’d kill us,” clarisse chuckled, putting on a coat of mascara. “you’ve been talking about this since we got back.” 

the three of you were getting ready in your dorm. you and clarisse were roommates this year, thank gods for athlete privileges, and silena lived in the building next door in a single since she was an ra. how she had the time to be an ra, be a member of the music festival planning committee, and be a full-time student was truly beyond your comprehension. 

“lena, calm down. it’ll be good,” you squeezed her shoulders as you passed by behind her, grabbing your lipgloss from the counter. “and even if it sucks, half the people in the crowd are either drunk or high or both and will probably not remember it.” 

“true,” she snorted, curling the final piece of her hair. she unplugged her hair curler and gave herself one last look in the mirror, “i’ll see you guys there? i gotta go make sure shit didn’t hit the fan.” 

you and clarisse nodded as silena said her goodbyes. you dabbed on some lipgloss, glancing down at your phone every few seconds. clarisse side-eyed you, unable to hide her smile, “you waitin’ for a text?” 

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes at her teasing tone. she didn't really know that your relationship was a little muddy at the moment. you weren’t the best at talking about your feelings and it felt wrong to talk about your relationship drama when clarisse and chris seemed to be going strong. “they’re supposed to land in los angeles ten minutes ago.” 

“their flight probably got delayed, y/n,” she replied, “happens all the time.” 

“no, i know, but just wanna make sure they’re safe, y’know?” 

clarisse crossed her arms over her chest, “they’re safe or he’s safe?” 

you ignored her question, opting to busy yourself with the weather app on your phone to avoid any follow-up questions, “how are you not checking your phone for a text from chris right now?” 

she shrugged, “he always knocks out on long flights so i don’t expect a text until he gets to their hotel.” 

“how are you and chris, by the way? i know we live together and shit, but i feel like we haven’t gotten to talk about it in detail since we’re always so tired from school and practice.” 

“we’re good,” clarisse hummed, “just miss him loads, though. i haven’t seen him since we left camp– what? four, almost five, months ago?” 

you were in the same boat, kind of. you and luke hadn’t seen each other in months and you were getting antsy. they’d been on the road for the past few months, meeting with producers and fulfilling their contractual obligations. they hadn’t been in a set location long enough for you to be able to fly out to see luke, even just for a weekend. 

at first, there were movie dates where you’d order each other food and eat and watch the movie on facetime together. there were weekly phone calls and daily texts, but nothing compares to the real thing. being with luke in person was something that you were craving. camp half blood spoiled you with having him all for yourself and now that you were back in school and he’s out in the world, it was beginning to weigh on you. 

you missed him. a lot. 

you missed kissing him and feeling his lips break out into a smile when you’d mumble something stupid. you missed feeling his arms around you, hugging you from behind while you got ready for the day. you even missed waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of him scribbling random lyrics on pieces of scrap paper he found in your room when he slept over. 

long distance is hard and sure, luke wouldn’t be the type to cheat or do anything to jeopardize your relationship, but it still didn’t stop a knot from forming in your stomach every time a picture of him or the band popped up on your social media with a gorgeous singer, actor, or model that they ran into on the red carpet. what if he realizes one day that he wants someone who lives the same life as him? wild and adventurous, not tied down by school or sports? 

a part of you felt silly for being so insecure about things. it was too early in the relationship to have this conversation, isn’t it? you knew that your avoidance of the topic was starting to affect your relationship with luke, as much as you wished it didn’t, but what if the minute you voice your concerns, he’ll realize that being with you was more than he bargained for? after all, you weren’t the same five star with all the time in her hands, care-free, and relaxed that he met at camp. there was a chance that luke would call it quits on this if you said anything and it felt like too big of a risk to take. 

your phone buzzed on the counter, indicating a text.

from: luke <3 

‘landed and jetlagged. gonna sleep for a few. enjoy the concert babe!’ 

you hearted the message and slipped your phone into your back pocket after sending him a quick goodnight text. the three dots popped up for a second, then in a blink, they disappeared. read at 8:43 pm. 

“you ready?” 

you snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of clarisse’s voice. you nodded and grabbed your small purse before heading out the door. you ran into a group of your teammates who were heading to the amphitheater across campus for the concert. the walk seemed to fly by as they cracked jokes and shared stories about random things. you stayed silent for the most part, only laughing along when it seemed like the right time, but your mind was somewhere else. your mind was in los angeles. 

by the time you got to the venue, you and clarisse separated from the group to enter the vip tent, courtesy of silena. a small crowd was beginning to form in front of the stage, taking up the grassy field. charlie was already at the tent, sipping on an ipa when he saw the two of you. his face broke out into a wide smile, giving you and clarisse a quick hug before leading you to the seats he saved. 

“season’s looking promising for you guys, charlie,” you commented, accepting the high noon he offered. “the team’s looking good out there.” 

“thanks,” he beamed, “don’t think we’re on the level of national champs just yet like you guys, but we’re trying!” 

“you guys are doing great,” clarisse chimed in, “the energy in the stadium is electric this year. makes me love college.” 

“are you telling me the papers and tests aren’t what makes you love college, la rue?” charlie teased. 

she snorted, “oh yeah, because i just love staying up until 1 am writing a paper on greek mythology for classics 101.”

the three of you fell into a comfortable conversation about the class you were all taking. it was a prerequisite class that most athletes choose to take because the professor was flexible with deadlines when it came to athletes. it was helpful especially when a team has to play beyond their season for tournaments or championships. about ten minutes before the opening act got on stage, silena rushed into the tent.

“guys, please you need to come with me. i need your help,” she said frantically. she was nervously tugging on her ‘staff’ badge around her neck, already halfway out of the tent as she waited for the three of you to follow her. “please, it’s an emergency.” 

“woah, lena, what’s going on?” you asked, getting up to comfort her. you followed her through the crowd, grabbing clarisse’s hand to keep her close. 

silena shook her head, continuing her march through the sea of people, “just come with me, i’ll explain when we get backstage.” 

you and clarisse looked at each other, feeling bad for silena. she put in her blood, sweat, and tears into this concert and you knew that she would beat herself up over it if something went wrong. silena always put her all into the projects she’s passionate about, but sometimes things outside of her control happen and unfortunately, she blames herself for it. 

in the whirlwind of ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘sorry’s’, the four of you managed to make your way backstage. it was chaotic. people were running around everywhere making sure everything was set for the opening act. the girl who was opening the concert was waiting by the wings, her guitar strapped across her chest as she took some deep breaths. the crowd wasn’t full yet, but you knew that if you were in that position, you’d still be sweating buckets. going out there on stage to perform for strangers was nerve-racking. you didn’t know how luke did it. you admired that about him. 

“lena, are you gonna tell us what’s going on?” clarisse questioned, picking up the pace of her steps to match silena. 

silena stopped in front of a door, slowly turning to face you and clarisse. suddenly, her stressed facade faded as she twisted the doorknob, “why don’t you see for yourself?” 

if you weren’t so confused about what was going on, you would’ve seen charlie lift his can up to his lips to hide his smile at how proud he was of his girlfriend for her acting skills. when the door opened, your heart stopped. 

luke was here. 

he stood in the middle of the room beside chris with a nervous smile on his face. he was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a white tank top and black pants. his poisoned mercury chain hung from his neck, shining under the overhead lights. his hands were stuffed in his front pockets, shy and timid, as he waited for your reaction. 

clarisse screamed when it hit her that chris was actually here. she ran to him and nearly tackled him to the floor. chris wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and laughed as she giggled into his neck. the two of them shared a heartfelt reunion before rushing out of the room to get some privacy. the sound of the door shutting behind you made you blink.

luke cleared his throat, right hand scratching the back of his neck, “hey, five star.” 

the nickname brought you back to your senses. you ran to him, engulfing him in a tight hug with an ‘umph.’ at first, luke was tense under your touch, unsure if you’d be happy with his surprise, but quickly, he melted into you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing in content as your familiar scent surrounded him. he felt sparks coursing through his veins as you hugged him tighter and all he could think about was how good it felt to have you in his arms again. his mind was still reeling at your reaction. he didn’t expect you to run to him like this, especially not when it felt like you’d been avoiding his calls over the last few weeks. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked him, pulling away to hold his face in your hands. your eyes twinkled as you raked over his face, still in disbelief that he was actually in front of you. “you’re supposed to be in la.”

luke couldn’t stop the lopsided smile on his face, “well, i lied? we were in nashville recording with your dad and he mentioned that he didn’t schedule a session for us this weekend in case me and chris wanted to take a trip to north carolina, so here we are.” 

you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones, whispering, “here you are.” 

“god, i missed you so much,” he said, voice breaking. “you have no idea how hard it’s been.” 

you gulped, your hold on his face faltering a bit. if luke wasn’t on edge, he wouldn’t have noticed the falter in your step, but he felt the slight hesitation in your actions. your warm touch slowly peeled away from his face and he instantly regretted saying those words. here he goes being clingy again. he removed his hands from your waist, clearing his throat. he sat on the couch, motioning for you to sit beside him. he tried to keep his hands to himself when you left a space between the two of you. 

“i still can’t believe you’re really here,” you said, staring at him. you wanted to lean over and hold him in your arms again, but there was a weird tension in the air that made you feel queasy. “i feel like i’m dreaming right now.” 

“i hope you’re not mad that i’m here,” luke looked down at his lap, flexing his hands. he had to keep his hands busy or else he’d surely reach for yours and he didn’t want to come on too strong. he had to keep his distance. he didn’t want to scare you off any more than he already did. “there was just an opening in the schedule and i-i wanted to see you.” 

“i’m not mad at all.” 

“good, good,” he replied. silence. he forced himself to look up from his lap, twisting his body to face you. he bit his bottom lip, trying to build up the courage to ask his next question. “are we okay?” 

“we’re okay.” 

“okay because i feel like things have been different between us lately,” he pursed his lips, looking at you with sad eyes. his tongue poked out the corner of his lips, eyes darting between you and the wall behind you. “i don’t know. i feel like we haven’t talked in ages, y’know? and i know you’re busy and you have a great life here that i’m not really a part of, but uh, i wanna be, y’know? i don’t know much about school or field hockey, but it’s important to you and you’re important to me so i wanna hear about it.” 

he was met with more silence. luke continued, “maybe i’m asking for too much when i ask you to let me be a part of this life, but uh, i miss you? and i just feel like i’m losing you and that’s the last thing i want. so you gotta give me something, five star. tell me what i can do to be better.” 

“if you need me to back off, i’ll do it, you know? you call the shots. you tell me what you need from me, and i’ll do it, okay? i just– i can’t lose this. i don’t wanna lose you,” luke mumbled. “maybe this is all in my head too. i don’t know anymore.” 

you shuddered, lip quivering, “i feel like i’m holding you back.” 

“what?” 

“come on, luke,” you flicked away the tear that trickled down your cheek, “you’re out there in the world doing what you love. meeting new people. living your life and i don’t want to hold you back from that. we met each other when i didn’t have all these responsibilities and who i was at camp is not who i am here and i know you love those impromptu adventures and trips and spontaneity. a-and i can’t give that to you.” 

“you deserve someone who can live this life with you and i’m stuck here for two more years, luke. i can’t do that,” it was getting hard to breathe. your throat felt like it was closing up, cutting off your airflow. you’d been putting off this conversation for weeks. it didn’t feel right to talk about this over the phone, and you thought that you had a few more weeks to figure out what to say to him when you saw him for winter break, but he was here now. “you deserve more than facetime calls and text messages, and that’s all i can offer.” 

“is this–” he paused, licking his lips. “is this not what you want anymore?” 

“what?” 

“this, us? is this just not what you want anymore?” 

an involuntary laugh escaped you as you wiped under your eye, “castellan, i don’t think i could stop wanting you even if i wanted to. and you know when we first met, i really wanted to.” 

luke moved closer to you, just an inch or two, trying to gauge your reaction. you didn’t move away, which he took as a good sign, “i’m confused. why do you sound like you want to end this then?” 

“i don’t want you to settle for this,” you sighed, “i know what you deserve and it isn’t this.” 

“bullshit.” 

you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him in disbelief, “what?” 

“i’m sorry, five star, but that’s bullshit,” a small smile was tugging on his lips. he reached over to place a hand over yours. his fingers traced your knuckles, running the pads of his fingers across the familiar ridges of your skin. “i don’t understand how after all this time you still don’t realize that all i want is you. it’s ridiculous, really.” 

“it’s ridiculous?” 

“it’s ridiculous,” he chuckled wetly. his other hand rubbed at his eyes, clearing his foggy vision. “our situation isn’t ideal, i know that, but i’d take long distance with you over anything else with anyone else. don’t you get it, five star? you’re it for me. if this isn’t what you want anymore, i’ll accept that. but if you’re only doing this because you don’t think i want this… five star, i want it all with you. long distance. phone calls. text messages. weekend trips when we can get them. distance has nothing on how i feel about you.” 

leave it to luke castellan to make you blush. you shyly looked at him, eyes twinkling with something more than either of you bargained for when you first met in that secret spot you call yours, “how do you feel about me?” 

“i’m not gonna say it right now because i don’t want to have the first time be while we’re in a fight,” luke laughed. the air was starting to clear. “but i have a feeling you know.” 

“i know,” you squeezed his hand three times, “i do too.” 

“will you put me out of my misery and kiss me please?” 

“always so fucking dramatic,” you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes, but you leaned over and pressed your lips to his.

[starswillow]

there are real genuine tears in my eyes

[wlntrsldler]

i was just informed my bsf imagines pm luke as calum hood and then i realized i’ve doing the same and this feels detrimental if i’m being honest

as a calum girl, yeah I'M THERE.

like yes luke is the front man but he's so calum to me.

this was indeed detrimental.

[starswillow]

like. like

[starswillow]

if you believe anything i say believe this: luke wld be on kendrick’s side

[tangledinlove]

carve your name

part seven — the killerverse masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of ares reader

summary: it’s the fourth of july. you try and come to terms with your weird feelings toward your best friend while he chases another girl

content: something something creator chose not to use warnings. its getting real

notes: set after the trio’s return from their quest. this is divergent from the show! after the trio comes back from their quest, luke and percy do Not go out into the woods

You’re beating Luke in an arm wrestling contest when Chris brings it up.

“You guys know that girl that just got claimed by Athena?”

Neither of you answer, too busy putting all of your energy into slamming the other’s hand into the table.

You’re winning by the slightest margin. His hand’s about a quarter of the way from the upright position, which doesn’t sound like much, but is a lot when you’ve been at a stalemate for the past five minutes.

“Someone told me she was talking about Luke.”

You begin to lose your grip on his hand, sweaty and sore. But you’re both tied with two wins in this best of five, and you refuse to even let up for a second. The muscles in your arm protest and threaten to give out for a second before you readjust your grasp.

Chris claps a hand on Luke’s back, and when he doesn’t say anything, you can tell he’s just as focused as you are.

“She wants to make a move on you, dude,” Chris says.

Luke’s hand hits the wood, a swift and decisive victory.

“Fucking finally,” you grit out, rolling your shoulder. You pick up your water just so you don’t have to look at either of them, something sick and familiar pulling in your chest. “I thought you’d never give up.”

Luke’s rubbing at his forearm when he laughs, and your stupid mind imagines the feeling of stupid butterflies stirring in your stupid chest.

“It felt like my arm was gonna pop out of its socket. How’d you do that thing at the end?”

You take a long sip of water, fanning at your face. You wonder if your thirty minutes of arm wrestling combined with the July sun would be enough to convince them that that’s why you feel so flushed.

“You mean that thing called winning?”

He kicks your ankles from under the table. “Fuck you. I win plenty. But it was like you got your dad’s blessing just to beat me at arm wrestling.”

Your face pulls up into something that you hope looks amused. “I think you’re just losing your touch, Luke. I bet even Percy would be able to beat you and those weak noodle arms.”

It’s not meant as a dig, but Luke takes a half beat too long to respond.

He stands up abruptly, shifting the bench backward with Chris still on it. He protests at the sudden movement, catching your glass that teeters off the table.

You meet Luke’s eyes again, and his grin lets you know he’s not gonna let your joking slide. He rounds the table, his hands outstretched for you, and you nearly throw yourself in the opposite direction.

“Luke,” you say, the single word sounding like a plea. You walk backwards all the way to the edge of the pavilion, trying not to trip over your own feet. “I was kidding.”

“I know,” he says. His smile is growing wider by a second. “But you’ll say sorry, right?”

“I’m sorry!” You squeal when he lunges for you, trying not to dissolve into laughter. “And I’ll never make fun of you and your weak arms ever again.”

You know there’s really no use running. Luke’s fast, and even though you are too, you won’t outrun him. You let him rush forward and throw you over his shoulder.

Luke gets an apology from you eventually, when you’re dizzy from being over his shoulder and floating with laughter. He holds onto your shoulders during the walk back to your table even though you’re not that dizzy.

When you sit down on the bench opposite of Chris, the first words out of his mouth are, “You guys are fucking weird. Did either of you hear what I said?”

Luke takes his seat across from you, and you try not to let your gaze linger for too long.

You sound breathless. “Sorry, Chris. We take arm wrestling very seriously.”

Luke cracks his knuckles before turning to his friend next to him. “Were you talking about Callea?”

Oh. So he was listening.

Chris snaps his fingers before pointing at him. “Yep. Her. She’s pretty into you.” His eyes slide over to you before he gives his attention back to Luke. “You gonna do something about that?”

“Nah.” Luke smiles, a little embarrassed like he always is whenever he finds out someone new likes him.

It happens a lot to him. A lot more often than you think you’re comfortable with.

…If it were happening to you, of course. Not Luke. You are perfectly okay with the amount of people who fall at his feet. Because he’s his own person. His own person who’s not yours.

“You scared?” Chris jokes. You stare pointedly at the ground. How weird would it be if you just up and left? “She’s pretty.”

Luke’s amused. He slides your glass across the table between both of his hands. “Yeah, so? A ton of girls are pretty.”

Chris is about to say something, you can tell. But he laughs instead. “I’m saying you should go for it.”

He doesn’t look like he cares much, and some sick and twisted part of you feels relieved.

“I’m good, man. I don’t need a girlfriend, especially if it’s some random girl.”

You can tell Chris knows that Luke isn’t giving up anytime soon. So he turns his attention to you.

“C’mon, dude. Help me out—I know he’ll listen to you. Luke should go for it, right?”

You feel frozen on the spot. Both of the boys are looking at you expectantly, believing wholeheartedly that you’ll take their side. You swallow despite the dryness in your throat.

You want to say no.

Not a single part of you wants Luke to make a move on this girl because… The idea makes you want to vomit. It makes you want to take Luke and drag him far, far away where no one can even look at him. Just you and him on top of a mountain, far away from the rest of society.

The endless stream of girls that would constantly make eyes at him from across camp had always made you defensive, but to a perfectly normal extent.

But you’re scared now. Those protective feelings are starting to look like something different, something you don’t even want to think about.

You feel sick, and it’s all because Chris is suggesting Luke should get a girlfriend.

What’s happening to your chest right now isn’t normal. You need to cut whatever it is that’s growing inside of you at the root and shove everything into the very back of your mind. You aren’t supposed to be feeling like this. It isn’t right.

You lean onto the palm of your hand while you turn to look at Chris. You refuse to let your voice waver.

“Yeah. He should.”

The smile on his face tapers off into one of shock. His eyebrows go high for a second, and he huffs a surprised laugh. “Wait, really?”

“Really.” You refuse to look at Luke. You’re beyond scared of what he’ll say. “I mean, half of camp has been pining after him for years. What could it hurt, you know?”

There’s a beat of silence before Chris turns back to him. “Uh, well, you heard her. Two against one.”

You rub at the skin by your wrist.

At the root. At the root.

“I’m kinda jealous. If I had half as many people in love me…” You laugh, and you’re glad to hear that it doesn’t sound half as forced as it really is. “I probably would have a boyfriend by now.”

The lie feels like acid in your throat. You force your eyes back to Luke. His are just as deceptively blank as yours, the look on his face unreadable.

He looks indifferent at the idea, and it stings more than you thought it would. You’d felt physically sick at the idea of Luke having a girlfriend, and he couldn’t care less about you getting involved with anyone else.

The nausea worsens the pressure on your chest.

“And it’s the Fourth of July bonfire tonight,” you add, the hole you’ve dug for yourself growing deeper and deeper with every single word. “So it’d be a great time to do it.”

“Real romantic,” Chris tacks on.

Luke still hasn’t said a word, and the anticipation of what he’ll say might just kill you. You aren’t sure what you’ll do if he actually agrees. Probably something incredibly stupid. You’ve never wanted someone to tell you no this badly.

After a painfully long few seconds, Luke shrugs. “We’ll see, then.”

You feel like the floor has fallen out from under you.

Chris covers up his choke with a laugh. “Are you being serious?”

You’ve never felt so far apart from Luke in your entire life. For the first time ever, you can’t even begin to imagine what he’s thinking.

“Well,” he laughs, a smile you’ve never seen him wear before get plastered on his face. “What could it hurt?”

The sound of your own words coming from his mouth are enough for the sick feeling wearing away at you to grow violent. You get up slowly from the table, trying to push down everything in you that’s threatening to make itself painfully known.

“I’ll see you guys tonight, then?”

Chris scratches his head. “Where are you going?”

“I told one of the Hephaestus kids I’d help set up for the firework show.” You’re blatantly lying. A good amount of them have been weary of you ever since that fight between Luke and Max at the start of the summer. “They’re loading up the barge right now.”

Luke looks confused, but you don’t have anything to say to him. You throw a halfhearted wave over your shoulder and make sure not to look at either of them as you turn away.

(You don’t head down to the beach. You dry heave in the bathroom for thirty minutes before feeling fine enough to walk back out.)

—

You’d been beyond excited to see Annabeth, Percy, and Grover come back to camp a few weeks ago. Returning safe from a quest was no easy feat, and preventing a literal war even more so. You’d been sure to hold all three of them in a group hug so tight they’d gotten annoyed with you.

When you see the former two laid out on a picnic blanket by the sand, waiting for the show to start, you drop in right behind them.

“Hey, guys.” You smile at the way Percy jumps. “You ready for the show?”

“Oh, hey. Is Annabeth right about how cool it all is?” he asks.

It’s nice to see they’re both friends now. During Capture the Flag, he’d seemed scared of how prickly she was.

“Annabeth’s always right.” You wink at her before turning back to Percy. “And absolutely. I saw the fireworks a bit ago—they’re even bigger than last year. I think they’re doing something special.”

Percy looks impressed. He pops a grape into his mouth from the Ziploc bag in his lap.

“Hey.” Annabeth smiles at you before her eyes dart to the space behind you. “Are you okay?”

You squeeze her shoulder. “Yeah, why? Do I not look okay?”

“Oh, no. You look fine, I was just confused.”

“About?”

“About where Luke was. I have something to ask him, and he’s usually around wherever you are.”

Your face warms.

“He said he’d catch up with me soon,” you explain, trying not to read into her words too much. “But, uh… He’s back at his cabin getting ready to romance one of your sisters, I think.”

Percy freezes, a grape halfway to his mouth. You’re reminded of how he’d assumed you had liked Luke, all the way back when he’d first gotten to camp.

The little shit.

“What?” Annabeth’s brows are knit together in disbelief. “Are you messing with me?”

“Nope.” You steal a grape from Percy and listen to the crunch it makes between your teeth. “Chris suggested it. And I think I kind of encouraged him.”

The two of them share some sort of look right in front of your face.

“Hello?” You snap your fingers in between them. “Share with the class?”

“It’s nothing,” she insists, turning away from the ocean to face you. “I’m just surprised.”

You bite back your remark that probably would’ve been, That makes two of us! and let some sand fall through the gaps in your fingers. “Chris seemed surprised too. But Luke can do whatever he wants.”

Percy and Annabeth share another side glance, and you groan. You take back whatever you’d just said about being happy they’re friends.

“Okay, seriously. Spit it out or stop conspiring in front of my face, please. It’s rude.”

“Sorry,” Percy says quickly. “I mean, you already know, but I thought you guys liked each other. I didn’t take him for a guy who’d go for another one of Annabeth’s sisters.”

You can’t help but smile at that.

“Do you know who it is?” Annabeth presses. “I can’t believe so much has changed since we’ve been away,” she says, genuinely considering the thought of this. “Luke used to flat out ignore girls that liked him.”

“It’s Callea, the one who just got claimed.”

Be nice, you remind yourself. It’s not her fault you told Luke to go after her.

“She’s nice,” you add. “I remember her from the times I’d stay over at the Hermes cabin.”

Annabeth frowns. “Oh. Are they like… friends?”

It’s going to make you sound like a crazy psycho, but you know the answer to that question is no. No, they are not friends.

But you just shrug. “I don’t know.”

The kids are quiet, and it puts you on edge. Everyone seems to be especially close-mouthed around you today. There’s clearly more they want to say, especially Annabeth, but she leaves it off with an eyebrow raise and moving over on the blanket.

“Want to watch the fireworks with us?”

You love Annabeth. You’re grateful that she’s dropped it.

“Of course.”

The three of you watch the work of the Hephaestus kids in awe. The red, white, and blue fireworks (projectiles would be a more accurate term) illuminate the sky, showcasing little stories in the lights. So far, the highlights have been the Minotaur (which you make sure to nudge Percy to look at), a scene of your father in battle, and planes made out of lights swerving and shooting at other firework planes.

Sometime between the scene of the warships braving the storm and something from the American Revolution, you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You turn, searching for who you know is standing somewhere amongst the other campers on the beach.

You find him embarrassingly fast. He’s at the edge of the tree line, leaning against an oak and watching George Washington do whatever it is he does.

Percy doesn’t say anything when you get up from your spot, but Annabeth catches you with a hand on your ankle before you move off the blanket.

“Can you ask him where he left my book?” she asks. “He’ll know which one.”

“Oh.” You have no idea how she’s so all-knowing all the time. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later, Annabeth.”

“Later.” She turns back to watch the show, grabbing Percy’s shoulder to make him look at some sort of special spiral the fireworks make in the sky.

Luke’s face is painted in the red lights from a burst shaped like the American flag when you approach.

He’s dressed nicely. Not too overly fancy that it looks like he put effort in, but you can tell he definitely sat over his stuff an hour ago wondering what to wear.

He nudges your shoulder when you settle next to him against the tree. “Where’s your jacket?”

You tug at his sleeve. “Right here.”

He always overheats when he drinks and ends the night with ten less layers than he started with, which all end up going to you. Luke smiles at you because he knows you’re right.

“You ready for tonight?” You draw a circle with the point of your shoe in the dirt, looking away from him and the light of the fireworks.

“Absolutely,” he says, his eyes probably crinkling. “Can’t wait for you to sneak shots behind my back and get so drunk I gotta carry you back to the cabin.”

You think you might hate yourself, because the next words out of your mouth are, “I was talking about Callea.”

The light hearted air around you sours almost immediately. You can picture the furrow of his brows with weird accuracy.

“Oh,” he says, in that tone that tells you that you just caught him off guard. “Sure. Whatever happens, happens.”

The campers on the beach ahead of you burst into boisterous applause at the firework show finale: the warriors battling it out in the sky are as tall as skyscrapers.

Luke pushes off of the wall of wood behind you, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“Go slow tonight.” He waves to one of the younger kids passing by you as you make your way towards the other half of the beach. “Can’t have you getting alcohol poisoning.”

“Don’t worry,” you say. “I’ll be fine.”

The two of you wander over the sand dunes, the little tufts of beachgrass tickling your ankles. While you walk, he talks to you about what he was doing before he showed up to the beach, and you listen half heartedly.

You can’t wait to drink the memory of this night and Luke and Callea out of your mind.

—

The number of people that have already made their way to the site by the time you get there surprises you.

There aren’t many campers old enough to go to these things. But there’s still a decent amount of people here, most crowded around the bonfire glowing bright red in the center of the clearing. It’s about twenty feet high and the pieces of wood keeping it alive are about the size of entire tree trunks.

There’s a few people standing around a foldable table that’s dirty from age and long stained with various drinks. A group of girls you know are talking around the cooler, and you find yourself moving in their direction before you can stop yourself.

The first conversation about Callea happened a few hours ago, but you’ve been feeling irritated and sick and on edge and annoyed ever since. So it really isn’t your fault that the second someone hands you a can of hard lemonade, you’re cracking open the tab and tipping it down your throat.

It burns on the way down and really isn’t that good. Most of the cheap stuff people get for these things aren’t, but you still find yourself hoping every single time. You let the sting in your throat replace the sting of the mean mix of emotions in your head.

“Hey.” The can pressed against your mouth is lifted clear over your head, spilling a few drops of sticky lemonade onto your shirt. “What’d I say? Slow down.”

“You’re no fun sometimes,” you complain, but you feel an out of place sense of relief.

Luke’s still here. With you, not someone else.

“It’s been forever since I’ve had one of these.”

“Is that why you downed half the can in fifteen seconds?” Luke asks, squinting into the opening at the top. His eyes find the flavor printed on the side of the can, and you stare as he puts his mouth over the spot yours had just been and takes a long swig.

He makes a face at the taste. You swallow around the dryness in your throat.

“I still don’t get why you like this stuff. Pure sugar.”

He uses the edge of the table to pop off the cap of the cheap beer that his brothers always buy, and you wince just imagining the bitterness of it. He tosses the cap into the trash bag tied to the end of the table.

(You all take trash disposal very seriously at these bonfires. You’re all still a little scared from the time a nymph threatened to snitch on you all when she found a discarded can by the edge of the woods.)

“You know the drill though. I’m not cleaning up your vomit again.”

“You’re going to have to stop bringing that up one day.”

Luke gives you a lopsided smile. “But you get so embarrassed when I do.”

“Gods, who wouldn’t?” you shiver. “I couldn’t look your brother in the face for weeks after that.”

He mimes himself tumbling out of bed and then vomiting onto what you know is supposed to be the foot of his brother’s bed.

You hit his shoulder, tugging your drink out of his hand. “Asshole. We get it, all your siblings were there—”

“Luke!”

The two of you spin in the direction of the voice, off in the direction of the beach.

It’s Callea. The sight of her is enough to send burning hot jealousy through your bloodstream.

She’s so effortlessly pretty that it has you tugging uncomfortably at your own clothes. Her hair has been curled to perfection, and it's pinned back, putting every part of her insane bone structure on display.

There’s a group of people behind her, a mix of kids from every cabin. You see Chris amongst them, all of them waving you in their direction.

Callea’s smiling, and Luke looks stunned.

You take a step back without meaning to. When he turns to you, he’s smiling in a way that almost looks nervous.

You try for a smile too, feeling out of your mind. “Good luck, hero.”

The look flickers off his face for a second. He’s confused. “You’re not coming?”

You know you won’t be able to handle the sight of him and Callea together without tears pricking at your eyes. The hurt is making itself known already, and you know it’ll only get worse from here.

“I’m gonna find my friends.” You gesture vaguely behind you because you have no idea where any of them actually are. “I’ll catch up later.”

He’s not convinced, his hand settling on your shoulder. “C’mon, please? Don’t make me go alone. I feel like I’m being left to the sharks.”

You pull yourself away too fast, and it’s clear that he picks up on that too.

“Sorry.” You look away because you know you’ll give in and go with him. “An hour at most, and I’ll come looking for you.”

“An hour?” His tone is off.

You take another long sip from your drink. It’s about one-fourth of the way full now.

“Go get your girl, Luke.” The words are forced out through gritted teeth and the envy clouding your mind.

You can feel him watch you as you walk away.

—

It takes another few cans of fruity drinks and two Dirty Shirleys until you feel your face getting hot and your tongue get heavy in your mouth.

One of your sisters did something with your hair, but you’re much too preoccupied to care much about it. You’ve lost track of how long it’s been since you first got here, but the drinks have been flowing and have started tasting really good, though you think that’s just because of how tipsy you are.

It’s kinda hard to think about other things when you’re standing amongst twenty other kids cheering on a son of Aphrodite who’s doing a keg stand.

You feel someone tug at your arm. It’s Ruby, trying to drag your attention away from the boy doing a handstand on top of the barrel. She has to shout over the sound of everyone egging him on.

“I’m go— to give —s to V—t!”

The guy in the middle of the crowd lets out a roar of triumph, and everyone around you joins in.

“Huh?”

Someone jostles you around while they rush for the middle and you lose her for a second. But then she’s seizing your wrist and dragging you out of the layers of people.

“I’ll be back! I’m gonna give this to Violet.” you think she says. Your ears are ringing from the change of volume.

She shakes a can of something in front of your face, and the melted ice water from the cooler splatters onto your shirt.

“Can I come with?” you yell over the sound of someone turning up the music.

She intertwines her hand with yours as she starts singing along with whatever song they’ve put on. She seems to know exactly where she’s going, dragging you behind her as she heads in the direction of the ocean.

“There she is,” you say, pointing to someone wading in the water.

“Uhh,” Ruby squints in the direction you’re pointing in. “I think that’s Jace.”

The boy’s face catches the light when he splashes the person standing next to him, and you wonder how you’d mistaken him for her in the first place.

“Oh, whoops.”

“There,” she says suddenly, pointing in the direction of a smaller group a little bit away. “Violet!”

You nearly get whiplash from the way she changes course so fast, snapping your head to the left.

“There you are,” Violet groans, trying to squeeze her way through her dense crowd of friends. “I was starting to think you’d never show up!”

“But I’m here now,” she defends, giving the girl her lukewarm drink. She gives her a big hug in thanks, and it makes you smile. You give Ruby a hug after Violet lets go of her just because you can.

Ruby falls into easy conversation with the people standing around, but you stare out at the water, something unsettling setting in. You think you’re supposed to be doing something right now, but can’t really remember what it is.

You already gave up your bet money to the girl you’d lost to. You hadn’t forgotten to put on sunscreen earlier. You’re getting rum and Coke spilled down the front of your white shirt.

Wait.

“Oh, fuck. My bad.”

You’re getting rum and Coke spilled down the front of your white shirt.

“Oh, fuck,” the guy repeats. His hands flutter around your shirt but he clearly knows he shouldn’t try dabbing it out. “Sorry, dude. That was on me.”

“No shit,” you say, but you’re not too upset about it. It wasn’t your favorite shirt or anything.

His face is growing bright red, and he stares very solemnly up at the sky.

You frown. “Oh, um. You’re good, dude. It’s not that serious.”

“Mikey!” someone hisses as he shoves his jacket at you. “Great going, jackass.”

You look down, and see that your shirt is starting to look a little transparent.

Ha. No wonder he’d gone tomato red.

“It’s fine,” you insist, letting Ruby shove your arms through the jacket. “No harm, dude.”

He gives you a fist bump before disappearing back inside his group of friends.

“Oh, hey! Where’ve you been?” someone asks.

You think back to what you’re definitely forgetting while you wait for Ruby to respond to them. It’s on the tip of your tongue, too.

After a few seconds of your friend’s silence, you realize that person’s talking to you.

“Chris!” you greet, smiling. You throw your arms around his shoulders with so much force he nearly tips over. “What’re you doing here?”

His curly hair is looking super windswept, and you point it out to him with a smile.

He flattens the wayward strands before returning your grin. “Bradley was breakdancing over here earlier.”

A laugh finds its way out of your mouth. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“It’s been a bunch of fun over there,” you tell him, and you think you can still hear them yelling about something.

“I can tell,” he says, laughing. Then, he gets a curious look on his face. “By the way, did you go see Luke? He was looking for you earlier.”

The mention of him hits you like a truck, slamming the memories straight to the forefront of your mind.

“Oh. No. I didn’t.”

“Do you want me to take you to him? He’s sitting with Callea.”

You lift Chris’ cup straight out of his hands and finish whatever’s in it. It’s not as bad as that beer Luke likes, but it’s definitely not good, either.

It takes Chris a second to find his voice. “Are you good?”

You want to be honest. No, you aren’t good. You’re jealous and bitter and feel like you’re about to lose the only person you care about.

But you just give Chris a thumbs up while wiping away the bits that are dripping down your chin. “Well. Yep.”

That was what you were forgetting.

You really have to thank the drinks you had earlier for helping you push him to the back of your mind.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. Your eyes scan the shoreline, and you find them a little too quickly.

They’re sitting on a log by a few other people at the big fire. One of the Apollo kids is singing something on a guitar, but neither Luke or Callea are paying attention. They’re talking quietly, the two of them engrossed in whatever stupid shit they’re talking about. When Callea laughs, she leans her head back and puts her hand on Luke’s arm, and—

You look away so the bile doesn’t make its way up your throat. You sit down on the sand. Hard.

Chris settles down slowly next to you. You let your head hit his shoulder, defeated.

You’re supposed to be cutting everything off. Every single out of place feeling you have towards Luke is supposed to be gone. Gone from your mind and gone from your heart, because none of it is normal.

You shouldn’t feel possessive at the thought of Luke being with another girl. It’s not right. He deserves to be happy— so happy that he doesn’t stop smiling. So happy that he’s head over heels for a girl.

What kind of sick person are you?

You don’t want Luke to be happy with Callea. You don’t want him to kiss her, and you don’t want him to hold her hand and let her sleep on your side of his bed.

And that’s not normal. You’d encourage any one of your other friends to go after a cute girl, but the thought of Luke doing the same made you drink your weight in vodka cran and hard strawberry lemonade.

Your chest burns. Feeling this way hurts, but you can’t stop it. Your feelings for Luke are so innate, they’re a part of you.

It’s not possible to get rid of this. You know it for a fact.

Chris nudges you with his elbow. “I… Shit. I have something to tell you.”

You brush sand from the edge of your jeans. You’re not in a big talking mood.

“I only told Luke to go after Callea because I thought you’d tell him not to.”

You spin around so fast to look at him that Chris has to catch you when you fall forward.

“You did what?” you spit out after a second, trying to fight back the nausea.

This entire thing started… Because Chris Rodriguez wanted to test you?

“You’ve stopped him every other time!” He looks guilty and frantic all at once as he settles you back onto the ground. “I was so convinced you would do it again, and I just... I’m sorry.”

“Gods, Chris,” you complain. Your head is spinning. “Why?”

He runs a hand through his hair, looking sheepish. “You gotta promise not to be mad.”

You know he can tell how angry you are when he seems to shrink into the sand.

“Uh… I was convinced you two got together recently without telling me. And I mean, I ask Luke about girls all the time, so—”

“You thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to ask him about some girl again?” your stare is flat. “To see how we’d react?”

He shrugs, running his hands through the sand. “Yeah.”

“And you didn’t expect me to tell him to go for it?”

He shrugs for a second time, too guilty to really look at you. “I mean, obviously. But I was even more surprised when he actually agreed to it.”

You think about Luke and Callea by the bonfire, too busy staring into each other's eyes to notice anything else. The regret feels like a physical weight on your chest.

“Wasn’t really your fault,” you admit, leaning your chin against your knees. “I um… Fuck, Chris. I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud.”

You smile, and he smiles with you, but you think it’s because he’s scared you’re going to cry.

“I think I like Luke.”

It’s weird to admit that to someone other than yourself. But the words are a lot less scary now that you’ve said them out loud.

You like Luke. You have for a while.

It’s hard to trace the start of your feelings for him. There’s so much between you two, and the thought of trying to comb through nineteen years of friendship to find the exact moment where your world shifted is impossible.

You think about the way you feel around him — the way only he makes you feel. You don’t think you could explain it to Chris even if you wanted to. You don’t even know if you could explain it fully to yourself.

“And I got scared. I was trying to pretend like if I ignored it, it would go away.” You laugh at how ridiculous it all sounds. “But nothing could erase the way I feel for him. He’s just… He’s been everything.”

You know you like Luke. You think it might even be more than that.

The words sit heavy between you and Chris. He exhales as he lays back, trying to make sense of the drunk slew of words you’ve spit up at him.

It’s a lot.

But he lets you wallow for less than thirty seconds.

“Get up,” he says, conviction coloring his words. He’s staring out at the ocean, and you give him a funny look.

“What?”

He pushes himself to his feet before grabbing your hands and tugging you up. You stumble forward, still feeling the effects of the alcohol, but Chris has you stable before you even realize you’d almost fallen over.

“Stand up and get over there,” he demands, brushing sand off your shirt.

“Over there?” you repeat weakly, glancing between Chris and where you know his best friend is sitting.

He drags you even further away from Ruby’s friends. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” you hiss, tugging hard on his hand and stumbling in the sand a bit. “I’m not going to interrupt that, Chris. I told him to go after her.”

He must get annoyed with the way you’re dragging your feet, because he stops the weird tug-of-war you’re having. Chris turns to face you, fire in his eyes.

“Then, congrats. We all make stupid decisions, so welcome to the club.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve never seen him this worked up about something in your life.

“But you’re going to regret this,” he insists. He grabs onto your shoulders with so much force it scares you a little. His stare is serious. “You’re important to him. I can’t think of something he cares about more.”

With his grip on your shoulders, he spins you around to face the boy in question. Luke’s face is lit up by the fire. He’s smiling at someone else.

“You’re a daughter of Ares for a reason, dude. You’d never sit back and let this happen.” He nudges you forward. “Get it done.”

You think of Luke. Your best friend, the only person you know you want in your future. The boy who holds you in your sleep and knows exactly what you need based on the way you reach for his hand. The boy who is a part of you just as much as you are.

When you turn around, you’re met with the sight of Chris’ back as he walks away.

He’s insane.

But he’s right.

You have to stop whatever it is that’s happening between Luke and Callea, even though it’s basically your fault. You know that the hurt you feel will only get worse if something really does happen between them, and the thought of that scares you more than anything else.

You’ve been less afraid of demigod-eating monsters than you are of this teenage girl.

Luke’s talking about something, and Callea’s looking at him with stars in her eyes. It makes you stumble over the sand a little faster.

From so far away, the sight of them had been manageable. But you find unease settling in your stomach the closer you get.

The wind tousles his hair and you’re taken aback by just how nice he looks. He’s a little flushed from the alcohol, but you like how it makes his smiles just a little bit wider and his hands a little more touchy.

You’re so busy staring you don’t notice when his eyes find yours. He sits up straight.

You call his name what must be a little too loudly, because the Apollo kid playing the guitar stops strumming.

“Hi,” you say, out of breath from the hike over. He’s grinning at you, finding something a little funny. You bend down so you can wrap him in a hug, and his hand slides up your back.

You inhale his cologne and sigh against him. “Missed you.”

“There you are,” Luke says, and you almost sigh with relief. “I missed you too. You disappeared.”

“Sorry. Ruby’s sister broke up with her boyfriend. I wanted to figure out what happened, and then he did a keg stand.”

“Ruby’s sister’s ex-boyfriend?”

“No. Matt did.”

“What does Matt have to do with Ruby’s sister’s ex-boyfriend?”

“Nothing.”

He’s grinning when he says, “My bad.”

You stand up to your full height, but you let your hand linger on his shoulder. His hand slides down your leg.

“I made you a Shirley Temple with vodka a while ago,” he says, handing you a red solo cup. “Extra cherries.”

You try not to smile too wide.

He knows, he knows, he knows.

“There’s only cherries in here,” you say, confused when he hands you the cup.

He squeezes the bare skin at your calf. “Yeah, sorry. They ran out of beer, and I got thirsty.”

“Luke, who is this?”

It’s Callea. She’s smiling at you, her head tilted to the side. Her hair is still perfect despite the light breeze.

You decidedly do not like the way his name sounds in her mouth.

You introduce yourself, trying to make your smile look as not strained as possible. “I’m Luke’s best friend. Who are you?”

“Callea.” She’s still smiling at you with her perfect teeth.

“Cool,” you say, because you don’t know what else there is to say. You’ve already met her. You aren’t sure why she’s pretending not to know you.

After a second of you staring at him, Luke makes room for you on the log. You get a sick sense of satisfaction when he moves further away from her.

He’s tapping on your leg. “You wanna sit?”

You nod automatically, leaning down to press a kiss against his cheek. “Of course.”

Luke has to steady you by your waist when you sit sideways on his lap.

He’s warm like he always is, even more so because of his proximity to the fire and the drinks he’s had. One of your arms goes around his neck as you lean against him.

“Annabeth wanted me to ask you where you left her book,” you say, your thumb rubbing over a part of his jaw. There's a tiny nick there you think he got from shaving, and you tell him that too.

It takes a second for the surprise to wear off. But he wraps an arm around your waist like he always does, and gives you a wobbly kind of smile.

“I’ll make sure to give it back to her,” he promises.

You miss the look he’s giving you, too busy curling your fingers in his hair. Callea had done this earlier. She didn’t deserve to.

“Wanna go back now?” you ask, yawning. “My head’s pounding.”

He squeezes your hip, and you forget what you were supposed to be mad about. “Thought you wouldn’t want to for a while. It’s not that late.”

“I think I drank too fast. I kinda just want to go and sleep at yours.”

You think if Chris were here, he’d probably tell you you’re laying it on thick. But you really do want to go to bed. Preferably after you take Luke far away from the girl next to you.

He tugs at the fabric of your jacket. “Where’d you get this?”

“Get what?”

“This.”

You look down at your chest, and see the logo of some sports team on it. You aren’t quite sure where it’s from, but Luke probably does.

“Some guy.”

“Some guy,” he echoes.

“Ruby’s friend,” you explain. You shove your face into his shoulder, which is stiff and so unlike him you pause.

“Are you friends with him?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t really see his face. We didn’t do much talking.”

You realize just how tense he is only when he shifts you off of his lap and stands up abruptly. You sway on your feet.

“She’s drunk. ‘M gonna take her back,” he says to Callea.

It sounds like she protests, and you hear him apologize before saying goodbye.

(You choose to be nice and don’t wave at her while you walk away.)

Luke’s walking pretty fast, and you struggle to keep up with his long strides over the soft sand. Usually, you’d link your hands together at this point of a walk, but there’s too much distance between you two for it to work.

He’s weirdly prickly right now, so you keep your mouth shut the entire way back to his cabin. He can’t see you, but you frown at his back.

About halfway there, you hear him mumble expletives under his breath when a branch gets in his way, and the piece of wood, as thick as a dictionary, gets snapped in half from the pressure he uses to step on it.

You’re surprised he doesn’t blast the cabin door off its hinges with the way he shoves it open.

You follow him into the empty room. It’s just the two of you here because all of the younger kids are gathered in the pavilion to watch an old movie on a projector someone had brought back to life.

Luke’s already at his bed by the time you shut the door.

“You’re mad,” you point out, slinking over slowly. Luke could never scare you, but his silent anger is making you wary. “Why’re you mad?”

Luke doesn’t respond as he rummages around in his drawer, fishing out one of his t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants you’ve forgotten here.

“I’m not mad. C’mon, get dressed.” He says it quietly, but the clear signs of his anger give him away.

There’s the crease in between his eyebrows, for one. And the way he won’t look you in the eye. And when his fingers uncurl from the shirt to drop it into your hands, there’s wrinkles from how tightly he was gripping it.

“Aw,” you say, more amused than you should be. “You know, I thought you’d ditch me at my cabin tonight. But I think you’re a little too scared of me vomiting in my sleep and like, dying. So thanks. You’re pretty sweet for letting me still stay here. Even though you’re mad.”

“Killer.” Luke sighs when he looks away from you again, clenching and unclenching his fists. Definitely mad. “I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“Not mad.”

“You won’t let me touch you,” you say absentmindedly, taking a step closer to him. He doesn’t react, staring blankly over your shoulder. “It’s making me sad. You always let me ‘cause I can’t go a second without you.”

Luke inhales sharply, and you itch to have him under your hands again.

He scoffs a little meanly. “You have to stop saying shit like that.”

“What’s wrong with what I said?” you push, pressing closer to him. Just before you can get too close, he stops you with his hands around your biceps.

Luke’s lips are pressed into a firm line. His hands feel foreign against you, and it makes you feel weird. Everything is natural with him. Whatever is happening right now is not.

“You need to stop saying shit you don’t mean.”

“But I meant it. I can’t go a second without you.”

He doesn’t say a word. He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels down to untie your laces.

“Luke,” you practically whine, refraining from shifting yourself forward to hug him. “Why do you think I’m lying?”

“You’re drunk,” he states, matter of factly. He wrestles with your left shoe a little bit when it refuses to slip off. He flips it upside down and taps the sole to get rid of the gritty bits of sand that snuck into it.

“You’re drunk, too,” you point out. “So does that mean you’re lying to me?”

You put your left hand on the side of his face and make him look at you. He’s annoyed, and his face is warm and red like it gets whenever he drinks.

He sighs. Then he turns his face into your hand and lets his lips brush over your palm. “I’m not lying to you.”

Your skin tingles where his lips were. You rush your next words, giddy and a little embarrassed.

“Sometimes I wish you’d kiss me for real.”

Luke snaps. He backs away, running a hand through his hair. Your vision is blurry.

“Sorry,” you say, really frowning. You know you shouldn’t have said that. “Did that freak you out?”

“You can be so fucking mean,” Luke scoffs. “I don’t understand you sometimes.”

“What? Luke—”

“You tell me to go after some random girl neither of us really know, and then disappear for the rest of the night,” he grits out, angry at you in a way you’ve never seen.

His words aren’t making sense. He’d seemed so happy tonight, but speaks of it like it’d been torture. Your head is spinning.

“And then you come back with—” Luke cuts himself off before he can say what he really wants to. It seems to be a trend today. “Fuck, killer. You can be so mean.”

Your eyes sting with hurt. Luke never gets upset with you, and the immediate need to fix it makes your chest constrict.

You think you feel too much for him. Too much, too fast.

“What did I do?” you ask, and the frightening feeling of your eyes pricking with tears has the words rushing out. “I don’t know what you mean, I don’t get why you’re mad, Luke. Please talk to me.”

He tugs at the curls on his head, and it makes you frown. You wish he wasn’t so harsh on himself.

He kneels in front of you again, and you meet his eyes. They’re vulnerable.

You squeeze his shoulders.

Very slowly, he puts his hands on your sides again, and you soften into a puddle.

When he speaks next, it looks hard for him.

“Where’d you get this?”

The jacket.

You frown again. You’d already gone over this.

“Ruby’s friend, I told you.”

“You could’ve come to me if you were cold.” He forces the words out so quickly you almost don’t catch them. “I was looking for you.”

You rub his cheek sweetly. “Thanks, hero. You’re always looking out for me. But I had to put it on because he spilled his drink on me. Everyone would’ve seen through it if I waited to find you.”

It takes you a second before your hand finds the zipper, but when you do, you tug it down and show him your stained shirt underneath.

“Oh,” he says. He’s looking at your shirt and not at you. “You should get changed.”

“Why do you care?” you push.

“Your shirt’s sticky.”

“I meant about the jacket.”

Luke ignores you, tugging at the ends of your sleeves. “It’s nothing. C’mon, let’s get you outta this.”

You zip the jacket back up before he can stop you. “No. Tell me the truth.”

He gives you a look, stunned at your refusal. “I was being stupid, killer. It’s nothing.”

You get up, leaving him in his spot on the floor. “Tell me so it can be over.”

“It is over. I’m tired. You said you were too. Let’s go to bed.”

“Not until you tell me.”

“No.”

“Please, Luke?” you ask, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he gives in. “Please, please, please, please, pl—”

“If I tell you, will you finally go the fuck to sleep?”

“Yep. I swear.” You nod so fast you get dizzy. “I’ll shut up and we’ll go to sleep.”

He looks exasperated when he pushes himself to his feet. It looks like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation with you.

Luke sighs one final time.

“Earlier, you’d said you and this guy didn’t do much talking.”

You nod. “Yeah. He gave me his jacket and I walked away.”

“Well, I thought you ditched me ‘cause you wanted to go suck some guy’s face.” He gestures at your chest. “And it was worse ‘cause the jackass likes Arizona.”

He’d thought you’d been off with some random guy. And he’d been… jealous?

You don’t feel like joking with him anymore.

“That’s not fair,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

“What?”

“You were the one who was actually off making out with some random girl,” you point out.

His eyes widen. “You’re angry with me about that? I didn’t kiss Callea. And even if I did, you were the one who told me to go after her. Why are you upset about it now?”

“I don’t know!” You feel like you’re curling in on yourself. “I don’t like Callea. She annoys me.”

“I only said yes to talking to her because you wanted me to,” he says, bitterness creeping into his tone. “I’m so fucking confused. Did you want me to go for her or not?”

You think about Callea and Luke. The way she would kiss him. The way they would hold hands. The way she would be his future, not you.

You already know the answer to his question.

You shake your head vehemently. “I don’t want you to have a girlfriend, Luke.” You feel like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and shame curls around you. “I never wanted you to in the first place.”

“Then why did you agree with Chris?” he asks, and you’re shocked to hear that he sounds hurt.

You don’t want to talk to Luke about this right now. Not while you’re both drunk and willing to say something stupid.

But you look at him and the hurt in his eyes and feel the urge to spill every single thought you’ve ever had.

Your voice is quiet when you press your palms into your eyes. “I was scared.”

“Why?” he presses. His hands go around your wrists so you can’t hide from him. “Why were you scared?”

Luke makes you look at him then, his face inches from yours. You wonder if he already knows.

You know that you should wait and talk about this tomorrow. The both of you are drunk, no matter how much you want to deny it.

But it’s the alcohol.

The alcohol is why you do it.

It’s why you say, “I don’t want anyone else to have you, Luke.”

In the span of five seconds, you’ve uprooted nineteen years of love. Nineteen years of feelings that have been growing under the surface and into every part of who you are.

“I’m scared of the way I feel. I feel like throwing up whenever Callea looks at you,” you admit, eyes sliding to his shoulder. You can’t handle the weight of his stare. “So I ran from everything. I told you to go after her.”

Luke is still quiet, and the words finish pouring out.

“But I don’t want anyone else to kiss you. No one else but me.”

Luke still hasn’t let go of your wrists.

He hasn’t moved either, but you don’t blame him. You’d nearly been crushed under the weight of your feelings when you’d found out, and now, you’ve cracked open your heart and dumped it all at his feet.

Luke still hasn’t let go of your wrists.

But for good reason, you decide. He uses his hold on you to drag you forward and give you everything.

He tastes sweet. Like the grenadine from the Dirty Shirley he’d made for you, and you can't help the sigh that escapes you, a shaky exhale against his lips.

Luke lets go of you to cradle your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs under your eyes like he’s trying to commit the slopes of your face to memory.

His eyes are so brown. You’ve always known, but it feels different when you’re looking at the blackness of his pupils after he’s just kissed you.

“Was— Did you…” Where he’s looking is constantly changing, fluttering from meeting your gaze to down to your lips and then back up again. “Was that okay?”

You feel like you’re glowing. You can’t even imagine a world where you wouldn’t want this.

You say yes when you tilt your head up and slot your lips together.

He kisses you nice and slow, his hands sliding down to your back. He goes nice and slow because he’s not going anywhere, and you know it.

Your hands are shaking. You’re so jittery that you have to throw your arms around his shoulders and lock your hands together behind his neck. For the millionth time in your life, you thread your fingers through the dark sea of curls on his head. You’d never ever imagined you’d ever get to hold him like this, and it makes warmth spread to every part of your body.

Luke pulls away after a bit to rest his forehead against yours. When his eyes slide open, you lock eyes, and he breaks out into a grin. You find yourself mirroring it without meaning to.

His voice is so, so soft when he says, “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Were your eyes open?”

Oh. You’d forgotten you weren’t supposed to do that.

You’d been so wrapped up in the thought that he was kissing you, you hadn’t even thought about looking away from him.

(Luke Castellan was kissing you. You, you, you.)

The tip of your nose brushes against his, your eyes finally fluttering shut. You inhale the barely there hints of his cologne and grow dizzy with it. “I just wanted to look at you.”

You expect him to laugh. It sounds stupid even to you, but you’d said it because it was true.

Luke is pretty. You could stare at him until the end of time, when you’re old and gray and your legs don’t work and you need him to carry you around with him forever.

You realize his hands have migrated over to your waist, and the feeling of him at your sides and at your back is making your stomach spin with butterflies.

You lean back to meet his gaze, and the look there catches you off guard. He’s breathing hard, his eyes completely glazed over.

You think that’s why you only half expect it when he pulls you against him and kisses you stupid.

Luke slides the jacket straight off of your shoulders, letting it hit the floor. He mumbles something, but you don’t think anything of it because then he’s doing something that nearly makes your eyes roll back and it’s forgotten in a second. You trip over the discarded fabric when he walks you backward to crowd you against the foot of his bed.

It wrings something embarrassing from your vocal cords, and he smiles against your lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, even though there’s no question there.

You feel dizzy at the feeling of him. Your hands untangle from behind his neck to slide down the solid planes of his chest, and he hums against your mouth. If he wasn’t propping you up against the bed frame, you know you’d have melted into a puddle on the floor by now.

You mumble something agreeable against him, your chest on fire. It’s not physically possible to be any closer to him, but you ache for it. You ache for him.

One of his broad hands slips up the back of your shirt and you gasp into his mouth, your fingers seizing the fabric of his jacket.

Luke is kind. So, so kind, and he licks into your mouth and you feel hot all over.

The warmth you’d been feeling earlier sets your chest on fire. You’re so frighteningly aware of the fact that you feel him everywhere. It’s too much and it’s not enough and he groans when you bite at his lower lip.

“Fuck,” he sighs out, the single word so desperate you nearly go cross eyed. “Fuck.”

You think you’re going to relive him every single time you need to take ambrosia.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” Luke breathes out, his eyes shining. The look he’s giving you is making saliva pool under your tongue. “You’re perfect, did you know that?”

You don’t let him get far before you’re chasing after him again, missing the taste of him. His grip tightens around you, and you think you get black spots in your vision.

“Thought I was gonna fucking die when you came back with that dumbass jacket,” he admits. “My girl. I’m sorry I was being stupid.”

You think it’d be embarrassing if he knew just how much you’d be willing to forgive him for.

“‘s okay,” you say, your voice thick. “I was sad it wasn’t yours, too.”

You’re pleased to find that Luke Castellan treats kissing just as seriously as he treats everything else, because the way he holds you is so desperate it surprises the both of you. You can’t even feel where the bed frame is digging into your hip because you’re too focused on the way he’s pressing you against it.

You try stabilizing yourself and find that your hands land directly on his biceps. When he flexes, you feel him smile against your lips.

“Wow, hero,” you tease, voice pitching up at the end when one of his arms snakes around your waist.

You’re very lucky he’s serious about this. But it means he doesn’t hear the sound of campers rushing past the door.

Something like greed possesses him when you snap your head to your left.

He tries following you, tipping his head down to capture your lips again, but you put your hands on his chest to stop him.

“Luke,” you warn. He settles for kissing at your neck instead, and your knees almost buckle when you feel his teeth drag against your skin.

“I think— I think there’s people walking outside,” you say. Every word that comes out of your mouth is labored and takes more effort than you thought was ever possible.

“Then fucking let them come in,” he grumbles, revelling in the sound you make when he kisses you again. “I’m their counselor. They’ll have stable duty until they die.”

You’re breathing hard against him, overwhelmed and dizzy, and you feel it when the pressure of his kisses starts shifting lower. You feel him at your collarbones and nearly pass out.

“We have to— Holy shit,” you sigh out.

The struggle to form thoughts is palpable. Every single one of your working synapses is focused on the feeling of your shirt rucking up your stomach when his hand slides up the back even further.

You say his name, and he hums.

“We’re drunk. We should be… We shouldn’t—”

You know you’re right. But you want to be wrong so, so badly.

“Five seconds,” he says, and the desire there is so real he sighs into your next kiss. “And then we’ll be done.”

Your breath stutters when you inhale. “Five seconds. Yeah. Okay,” you rationalize. “I’ll count.”

It’s just five more seconds, and you honestly think you need it more than him.

You’re breathing too hard for him to kiss you properly, so he tilts your head back and you nearly see stars.

You jolt at the feeling of his mouth against your jaw, a trail of wet kisses following from your mouth to the curved bone. Your fingers curl into his hair.

A shiver wracks your body at the feeling of the first two numbers being mumbled against the swell of your throat. It’s been five seconds already. Neither of you care.

Luke is smiling against your skin.

“Your heart is racing. I can feel it.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your carotid, and it feels like your heart is going to come out of your neck. “Right there.”

“Don’t be mean,” you complain, but it sounds more like a whine than an actual sentence.

Luke’s hand goes to the junction of your neck and the back of your head, keeping you steady so he can kiss you until you lose feeling in your fingers.

You can’t believe that this is seriously happening. This feels like something you’ve thought up in a dream, the feeling of his hands on you so perfect it seems too good to be true.

You aren’t proud of the sound you make when he pulls away.

“Five,” he whispers.

You’d completely forgotten you were the one supposed to be counting.

He presses his forehead against yours while you catch your breath. Your chests rise in tandem, and you wish your lungs were a thousand times bigger just so you didn’t have to pull away.

He wipes something wet away from the corner of your mouth, and you know you’re looking up at him with a stupid look in your eye.

“Luke,” you manage to say. You tilt your head up and your nose knocks against his. “Do you like me too?”

He’s smug. “Was the way I stuck my tongue down your throat too friendly for you?”

The laugh that escapes you must sound funny because he’s joining you the next second, matching smiles on both of your faces.

“Tomorrow,” he promises. You think he’s about to kiss you again but stops an inch away, evil and mean. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You peck his cheek because it technically doesn’t count and watch red bloom there. You think it’s funny he’s blushing at such an innocent kiss, as if he hadn’t been marking up your neck thirty seconds ago. “Tomorrow.”

You feel your heart beating through your chest as both of you get changed. You’re wearing your matching pajama pants, like promised, and you have to keep reminding yourself to stop smiling.

Your heart is still racing even after both of you are settled onto your sides under his blankets. You’re using one of his arms as a pillow and your back is pressed against his chest, and you feel better about the throbbing in your chest when he mumbles something about how dizzy he feels.

You’d slept over here just last night, but it feels like this is the first time you’ve ever been this close to him. You have to stop yourself from shivering when his hand finds its way up your shirt again. And when he rubs those circles between your shoulder blades, you have to remind yourself he does this all the time.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” you say, thinking out loud.

He kisses your hair, because that also technically doesn’t count. “Me neither.”

You’re sick and tired of how you can’t see his face, so you flip around to look at him. He lets you roll on top of his chest, and you just stare, unashamed. His curls look funny because of the way you’d been pulling on them. His lips are perfectly swollen.

You’re content. “The Demeter kids are going to make us so many more cakes, Luke.”

He shifts you higher against him so your face is pressed into his neck instead of his chest. “What do you mean?”

You feel him shudder when the point of your nose runs up the expanse of his throat. “We’re gonna need two cakes to celebrate the first time we kissed. And then even more for that stuff after.”

Luke tilts his head down and captures your lips in another kiss, this one much deeper than the peck he’d smothered into your hair earlier.

You pinch him, your eyes wide when you realize what he’d just done. “Cheater.”

“Couldn’t help it, I’m sorry.”

He has to flip the both of you over because you aim to kiss his face again. You groan, flattened underneath him.

“You’re not being fair, Luke,” you complain, but you rub his back because you’re greedy.

“Tomorrow.” His mouth has made its way to your collarbones again because he likes to torture you. “After we talk.”

“After,” you echo.

The lingering effects of the alcohol are making it a little hard to think straight. But you can’t even believe you’d doubted this for a second. It was always going to be you and Luke. You think it’s been etched into the very beginnings of your souls.

Luke kisses a sore mark he left on the column of your throat, and your eyes grow heavy when he leaves another right next to it.

“After,” he confirms.

You think this must be what going to Elysium is like.

series masterlist

notes: title from dress by taylor swift. final word count at 11k which means that like twenty percent of this was just them being crazy about the other…….. goodbye LOL.

ill probably be making another post just to yell and scream about the events of this chapter. can you tell i blacked out writing it

[starswillow]

i literally passed out in a crowd last night and i was shaking more reading this. killerverse will always be famous this is fucking INSANE

[tangledinlove]

HELLO I HOPE YOURE OKAY BUT I YELLED LMAOOO. i felt crazy writing this and im glad it had the same effect tbh 🩵 tysm for rbing and sharing ur thoughts w me i hope u know ill be thinking about this forever actually

[starswillow]

HAHAHAHA im good pinky swear !! but ofc this fic will always be my absolute fave

[wlntrsldler]

listening to jigsaw by conan gray and thinking of luke castellan who wanted his dad to love him and now im sobbing at 10 am

[starswillow]

our tether never fails cause i edited luke to jigsaw

[roz-aphroditesdaughter]

The End (Stars Always Seem To Fade)

Luke Castellan x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.16k

WARNINGS: MAJOR PJO SPOILERS (especially The Last Olympian), death, stabbing, slight mention of sex, mentions of betrayal, some swearing, violence, cringe, pure sadness, ANGST, unhappy ending.

A/N: Hey, y'all I'm new here. I'm just gonna drop this fic and run, but just wanted to let y'all know that I did take some quotes directly from the book and I do not claim those words as mine. What's mine is mine and what is Rick Riordan's is Rick Riordan's. Also, I based this a bit on the song "The End (Stars Always Seem to Fade) by The Warning.

You sobbed on the elevator floor as it made its way up to Olympus, as slowly as possible, it seemed to you. Luke was the only thought that ran through your mind.

Memories of his friendship when you first arrived at Camp all those years ago. Of him teaching you to fight with a sword. Of your first kiss with him, of your first time with him. He had been your first everything; he had been your everything.

You never forgave him for betraying you. He would never forgive you for betraying him, for being Percy's spy.

You knew that it was all going to end today. No matter how it ended, though, you needed to see him. Even if he wasn't Luke anymore and it was only Kronos inside him.

The elevator dinged, signaling that you were now on Olympus. You pulled yourself and your sword off the floor and as soon as the door opened, you ran. You ran as fast as you could to the throne room, praying to whoever would listen that you would get there on time before everything went down.

You burst into the throne room to find Luke -- or, Kronos -- disarming Percy with Backbiter.

"STOP!" you yelled, catching Kronos's attention. He made his way toward you, slashing with Backbiter, but you blocked the hit with your own sword. "Luke, it's not too late to stop this. This is going to end one way or another."

Kronos roared. "Luke Castellan is dead! His body will burn away as I assume my true form!"

You smirked. "We both know Luke isn't dead. I've been around you for the past few months. Luke's fighting and I'm sure you've noticed that he's one stubborn bastard."

Kronos pushed against your sword but you stood your ground.

"Luke, please," you whispered. "I know you're scared but I need you to fight. Fight him." You let out a soft sob. "And I need you to know that despite everything, despite the betrayal, the lies, the blood on our hands, I am still in love with you. And I know that love is hopeless now, but my love for you never died. So fight, Luke!"

"I will crush you, child!" Kronos screamed as he continued pushing against you.

"No, you won't. Keep fighting. You're still holding Kronos back even now."

"LIES!" When Kronos pushed again, you lost your balance and he struck your face, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth as you fell to the ground.

You took a quick look around you, Annabeth, Percy, and Grover were all watching, Annabeth was crying, but they were as safe as they could be in this situation.

Kronos loomed above you with Backbiter raised. "To the farthest star and back..." you said. You laughed. "Our stupid little saying."

Kronos stared at the sword in your hand and he staggered. His eyes snapped to the blood on your chin. "The farthest star."

He gasped. "Y/N," he whispered, but it wasn't Kronos's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward as you stood up. "You're bleeding...."

Immediately, you grabbed Backbiter from him, throwing it to the side and allowing it to spin into the hearth.

"Y/N!" Annabeth shouted. You turned and he slid her dagger to you, the dagger Luke had given her so many years ago. You picked it up and nodded your thanks to her.

Kronos growled. "Stupid girl." His whole body appeared to be glowing and turning gold, just as his eyes were.

He gasped once again. Luke's voice pleaded with you, "He's changing. Help. He's... he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please--"

"NO!" Knronos bellowed. He stumbled toward Backbiter in the hearth. You were frozen where you were, just watching as Kronos grabbed the sword from the hearth before screaming in pain and dropping it.

Luke turned back to you and he fell onto his knees. You carefully went to him. "Please, Y/N."

You kneeled in front of him. Tears fell from his eyes. You wiped them away. You took a moment there to memorize him. His dark curls you loved to run your fingers through as you lay on his chest. His ears you loved to whisper dirty jokes and sweet nothings into. His eyes you loved to get lost in. His scar, nose, and jawline you loved to place kisses on. His lips you loved to make out with.

"Can you control him?" you asked.

Luke nodded as he moved one of his charred hands to cup your face. You moved closer to him, and then you kissed him. You kissed him knowing it would be the last time.

When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his. "Show me where it is," you whispered.

He unlatched the side straps of his armor to expose some skin under his left arm. He took gentle hold of your hand holding Annabeth's dagger. He never once broke your gaze.

"I love you," he said before you both stabbed the dagger into his Achilles Heel.

Luke screamed, his eyes glowed. The throne room shook as an aura of energy surrounded Luke, glowing so bright you had to shut your eyes and remove your hands from him to cover your face.

It went silent.

When you opened your eyes, you found Luke lying by the hearth. Around him was a circle of ash. His left side was bloody. His eyes -- his beautiful brown eyes -- were open.

You pulled his head into your lap and pulled the knife from him. "Hi," you said, not knowing what else to say.

He smiled up at you despite the pain. "Hi."

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover came closer to you and Luke. Annabeth had tears in her eyes.

Luke gazed at her. "I'm so sorry."

"You were a hero in the end, Luke. You'll go to Elysium," Annabeth promised.

Luke weakly shook his head. "Think... rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest."

"Overachiever," you chuckled.

He smiled again up at you. "Y/N, I've loved you ever since you stepped foot into Camp Half-Blood and I never stopped loving you. Through all of it. I'll never stop loving you. To the farthest star and back."

Tears flowed down your face. "We really should have come up with a better saying. That was horrible."

"What? What could be better than a saying we came up with as cringey and stupid sixteen-year-olds?" He laughed then winced.

"We can get ambrosia," Grover said. "We can--"

"Grover," Luke interrupted. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no healing..." He coughed.

He gripped Percy's sleeve. "Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it... Don't let it happen again."

"I won't," Percy replied. "I promise."

Luke nodded then looked back at you. "I love you... to the farthest--" he coughed, "--to the farthest star and back, Y/N."

His eyes closed and his body went slack.

A sob tore through you.

[atlabeth]

true luck's kiss

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me

You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath. 

“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.” 

You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target. 

“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.” 

“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?” 

She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.” 

You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”

A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them. 

You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.

“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”

You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”

“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”

“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”

Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”

You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.” 

He chuckled. “So you are free?” 

“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?” 

“I’m cursed,” Luke said. 

You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.” 

He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—” 

“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.” 

“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.” 

“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.” 

“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”

“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”

“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.” 

“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?” 

Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?" 

You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?” 

“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.” 

You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.” 

“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together. 

“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.” 

When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.” 

“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.” 

“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.” 

“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.  

“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?” 

Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?” 

He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”  

“Really,” you said dryly. 

“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.” 

You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.” 

“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?” 

You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you. 

There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan. 

“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.” 

Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it. 

Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though. 

Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.” 

“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said. 

Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.” 

“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.” 

“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.” 

[moneyndior]

luke castellan who absolutely looks and holds you like it’s the last time.

he observes—no, memorizes each perfection in your face. the colour of your eyes, your nose shape, how your lips slightly pierce together under an awkward situation and how your gaze softens when you look at him. he’s almost got you down to the last molecule.

luke doesn’t understand how nobody else can tell when you’re uncomfortable. it’s so obvious by the way your eyes drop in the this-is-too-much-for-me way and not the usual i-got-2-hours-of-sleep way. luke doesn’t understand why people still go up to you and ask you to help them when your shoulders are tense—which is the biggest indicator that you’re angry.

annabeth just says it’s because he’s in love, he says it’s just because you’re you. he tries to understand you so you don’t have to. luke understands that you like to cuddle this specific way and not the other way.

he sees your eyes shine just before you’re about to fall asleep—as if it’s the final warning to tell you that he loves you more than anything before you fall unconscious. luke’s tight grip doesn’t lessen as your breathing falls into a rhythm, his fingers entangled with yours as he had a hand on your hip and his chin resting at the top of your head.

luke has gotten every inch of you memorized. he’s preparing for the day that it will be his last day looking up at you, his head resting on your lap. he’s making sure he’s ready for you to be his last sight—and he’s making sure he remembers everything. he cannot pass on without memorizing how you try your best to smile to bring him comfort when you’re crying.

he’s making sure he doesn’t regret a thing.

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

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

word count: 5.3k

content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from

notes: this is so cute i love them.

PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair

Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry. 

You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context. 

Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast. 

“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them. 

You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”

“What’s up, Travis?”

He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.” 

He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?” 

You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea. 

Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?” 

“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.” 

“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”

Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit. 

“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.” 

“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.” 

“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut. 

The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.” 

You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you. 

To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much. 

You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you. 

Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands. 

“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?” 

Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”

“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“

“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed. 

“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.” 

You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted. 

You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill. 

“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”

He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage. 

They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke. 

You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love. 

You grinned, “JoJo.”

Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face. 

You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement. 

“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?” 

“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”

“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”

“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”

He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no. 

“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”

“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”

“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”

You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball. 

Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow. 

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”

“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”

“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”

You didn’t know. 

“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”

You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you. 

He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”

You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?” 

“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.” 

Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve. 

Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average. 

Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help. 

All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course. 

“I can’t find it.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly. 

“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”

“Oh, and you expect us to?” 

And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side. 

“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”

“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.” 

You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.” 

He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”

“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”

As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front. 

He stopped laughing. You started laughing. 

“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?” 

You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath. 

You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”

He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”

Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.   

Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

“Hey!” 

You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips. 

“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”

“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”

The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.” 

Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”

She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”

You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter. 

“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?” 

“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”

Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn. 

You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure. 

He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest. 

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”

“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t. 

“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging. 

“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”

A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”

You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?” 

You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”

That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness. 

Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure. 

“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.” 

Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”

“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.” 

“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!” 

He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them? 

“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”

“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”

Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.” 

It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did. 

But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.  

You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”

You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”

“You’re from Vermont.” 

Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.” 

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!” 

“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?” 

“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”

“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.” 

“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”

“You fought a dragon.” 

“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re laughing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.” 

“I’m not!” 

____________

“What’d you do to him?” 

You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?” 

“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?” 

“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”

He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment. 

“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”

A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”

“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”

That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?” 

Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”

Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly. 

You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.” 

Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @tsireyasgf (just ask to be removed/added!)

[love-that-we-were-in]

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 

*

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 

“Why aren’t you ready?” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 

“Fancy a rematch?” 

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 

“How many beers have you had?” 

“Three, I think?” 

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 

So you say it anyway. 

“I bet I could outdrink you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?” 

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 

“Are you going to?” 

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 

*

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?” 

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes. 

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 

“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 

“We can share.” 

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 

“You’re on, Castellan.” 

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore. 

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

*

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 

“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 

“Seriously?” 

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.