Luke Castellan

i love you .

jackie and wilson.

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

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour 

notes:  speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild 

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well. 

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours. 

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it. 

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss. 

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster. 

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty. 

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse. 

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp. 

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got. 

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery. 

It was cute. 

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley. 

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over. 

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan. 

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name. 

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow. 

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.” 

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.” 

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.” 

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion. 

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.” 

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.” 

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly. 

“And that?” 

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did. 

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face! 

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered. 

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp. 

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill. 

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day. 

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go. 

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked. 

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.” 

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response. 

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes. 

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet. 

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable. 

But you really needed to pee. 

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door. 

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke. 

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!” 

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up. 

“Be quick.” 

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed. 

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan. 

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence. 

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.” 

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour. 

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.” 

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.” 

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t. 

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater. 

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be. 

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off. 

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” 

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion. 

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe. 

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything. 

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.” 

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse. 

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?” 

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.” 

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on. 

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation. 

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow. 

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

the older and more wisened Chiron is portrayed, the funnier it will be when the party ponies show up and you find out Chiron was AFBAB (assigned frat boy at birth)

I LITERALLY JUST LET OUT THE LOUDEST LAUGH EVER WHATTTT

Luke Castellan Smut

Well that's quite straightforward isn't it

i think abt female remus lupin a lot

i am obsessed with this man i’m not okay

soulmate trope | various bnha x reader

summary: a villain’s quirk causes your class to be assigned soulmates.

uh, soulmates aren’t real. they’re fictional.

choose-yer-own-adventure oneshots. no one knows how to handle any of this, due to every single character being a dumbass.

anticipated characters: bakugou, shinsou, todoroki, monoma, aizawa, and maaaaaaybe one of the villains. haven’t decided.

Keep reading

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

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

And then the fun would begin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

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

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

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

But instead you kissed others.

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

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

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

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

You stayed still.

Still.

Still.

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

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

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

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

“Get some, Castellan!”

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

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

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

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

——————————————

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

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

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

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

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

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

“What?”

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

You met him once again.

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————————————————-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wouldn’t even meet them.

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

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

How he wished you had been sober.

there are genuinely not enough moonwater based fics omd

i’m opening my inbox for oneshot requests!! i write for most marauders ships and characters and i do x readers (except 90’s hogwarts and severus lol)

hunter x reader imagines (enemies to lovers)

i am literally in love with hunter from the owl house, so in honour of ep1 s3 here are some imagines!!! this is like the story of the reader and hunter from season 2+ sooo yeah xx slay

warning: swearing, female pronouns, straight people, major sexual innuendoes, hints towards intimacy but nothing graphic

season 2

you are a healer that the emperor has requested to accompany hunter on the weekends when he goes out for missions

you accept because it’s good money, but you quickly find out that hunter does NOT want you there at all because he believes he can handle himself

during missions he walks off and leaves you behind, to which you go in your own pay and complete missions for him to get back

he realises you could be an asset and angrily decides to be less of an arse to you

one day he gets pretty injured and instead of telling you, he ignores it until it gets infected and it’s super visible

you scold him and order him to tell you if anything’s wrong, or there use you’d have to spend a shit ton of time nursing him back to health with you would ‘rather die than do’

you visit him frequently and tease him for a few days as he gets better, which he secretly really appreciates as he gets rather lonely

he also gets really flustered whenever you touch him or get closer than anyone normally would, which you tease him about even more

he laughs it off and pretends to be all nonchalant, but he’s super embarrassed that you noticed how flustered he got

after he gets better, you’re able to go on mission with him again.

you often squabble and argue with him, but on one particular mission he says something that keeps you completely silent

“maybe i wouldn’t get so easily flustered if you didn’t so easily flirt”

‘easily flirt’?! since when did you ever flirt with him?!

he didn’t think much of it, he was truthfully joking about you flirting with him- but your reaction made him think more about your relationship with him.

it wasn’t flirtatious… was it???

a few weeks pass, and the comment manifests into a joke between you two where you flirt all throughout your missions

not because you like each other!!??! so gross!!!!!??!?

just casual stuff like:

“jeez, take me out to dinner first”

“that’s what she said”

“well, if you insist!”

and then out of nowhere, it became a competition to see who could get the other more flustered and uncomfortable.

one day in a mission, you tripped over a tree root that had grown over the ground and face planted on the dirt.

he laughed, and said “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be getting all messy. next time just fall on me”

you went red from that ‘pretty girl’ comment, stuttering and stumbling over your words for the next few minutes

on the next mission, you decided to get him back.

you had to go into a bar to ask questions about a vigilante on the loose, in doing so you garnered the attention of a few boys and girls around your age.

hunter saw this and felt a twinge of jealously. no, what?? jealousy?! since when was he ever jealous?!!

he walked over to the table of teens fawning over you, “y/n, we’ve gotta go.”

“ugh, sorry guys! my boyfriends being sooo naggy today”

BOYFRIEND?!,!,$/!:

he literally froze

wtf

once he snapped out of it, he took you by the arm and stormed out of there, flustered as hell

“don’t tell me you’re jealous or something?”

“i’m not jealous, i’m just…”

“just what?”

“you can’t just go around saying im your boyfriend! especially without warning and in front of the guy you’re calling your boyfriend”

you smirked, “why?”

he went silent. “we’ve gotta catch up with this lead”

you didn’t question it anymore after that

until the next night

you were looking over some paper work and wanted to ask hunter if he knew if he had any potions so you could write it down for the stock collection

you knocked on his door, earning a “who’s there?” from the other side.

“y/n?”

the door opened cautiously, greeting you with a mask less hunter.

you had only seen his face a few times, but he looked especially… not handsome at all… that night

“oh, hey!! um… do you have the… bruises potion i made…?” you asked, trying to avoid his eyes.

he smirked, catching on to what was happening.

“yeah”

you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and then held your hands behind your back.

“um… can i have it back?” you asked, still avoiding his eyes

you could feel him looking you up and down, his gaze burnt your skin.

“maybe,” he stepped forward. “what’s in it for me?” he continued.

“um…” you finally met his eyes- they were stunning. certain imperfections in his face just seemed so natural. his eye bags were weirdly super attractive, he had no baby fat his gap tooth was just absolutely adorable.

a few seconds pass, until you realise your staring.

he doesn’t say anything as he steps closer.

he’s barley a few steps away from you now, and the distance is painful

he moves in closer and reaches his arm behind you

you can feel his breath in your neck as his chest sits slightly on your shoulder

why was he so tall?!!!!!! and attractive?!!!! this wasn’t fair. at all. what the fuck!!?!?!!!

he suddenly bounces back with the potion in his hand. “there you go” he says in a monotone voice, passing it to you

“um, yeah… thanks!!” you take the potion and walk over the the door, tugging at the handle

it wasn’t locked or anything, it just wasnt budging, so you were struggling with the handle as hunter held back laughter

“oh my god please do not do this to me” you muttered

“here, i’ll get it” he said, trying to not make his mischievous smile come through with his tone

he leans behind you, one again too close for comfort

he stuggles with the door handle for a few seconds before getting it open

you rush out the door, flushed and tripping over every second step

“uh! bye! see you tomorrow!” you call out, shakily

“see you later, y/n”

in his mind, that was payback for yesterday when you called him your ‘boyfriend’

in your mind, you had become extremely attracted to hunter and couldn’t get that moment out of your brain.

to be fair, he couldn’t stop thinking about it either.

after that, you two stopped flirting with each other. mostly because you went very quiet during missions and he could tell he did something wrong

‘i think i made her uncomfortable lol‘

‘holy fucking shit how can he act so natural after cornering me twice and flirting with me last night???!!!! what an arsehole!!!! please kiss me’

as unity day got closer, the two of you bonded a little bit more and when he didn’t return to the castle one day, you decided to leave as well.

you jumped from house to house, usually hiding in emira’s closet

you finally reunite at the blights house in the hot air balloon, where you still couldn’t get that image of hunter out of you mind.

“hi, hunter” you said, stiffly

“long time no see, y/n” he replied

the way he said your name send shivers down you spine

‘WHAT THE FUCK 😭 WHY IS HE SO HOT’ you thought

‘WHAT THE FUCK 😭 WHY IS SHE SO HOT’ he thought

everyone could see how attracted to each other you were EXCEPT for you and hunter

season 3

time flies and you’re in the human realm

you didn’t have much waiting for you back in the boiling isles, and neither did hunter

everyone was still pretty on edge, so a week in you all decided to have a sleepover.

“let’s play truth or dare!” liz suggests, confusing everyone

“what the fuck is truth or dare??!” willow asks

luz explains truth or dare, and the questions are pretty standard

“luz, truth or dare?!” asks amity

“truth” she replies

“who’s your crush?!”

“bffr”

soon enough, you’re asked truth or dare by gus

“truth”

“do you like anyone?” he asks, smiling

you freeze and avoid eye contact with everyone, especially hunter

“i mean dare” you laugh

“i dare you to tell us who you like” says gus

“i don’t like this game”

“are you chicken?” hunter smirks, catching your eye

‘oh my god kill me now THAT FUCKINF BRAT’ you think, staring down hunter

“im gonna go brush my teeth” you laugh

“awwwww chicken!!! everyone boos dramatically

you head to the bathroom where you brush your teeth and are washing your face, until you spot a wild hunter leaning against the door frame in the corner of your eye

“HOLY SHIT!” you yell out, only for hunter to cover your mouth and hold a finger to his lips as he made a ‘ahh’ sound

“luz’s mum is sleeping, idiot” he whispered

you ripped his hand if your mouth, already red from the sudden contact

“ you’re the one that scared me”

“i didn’t mean to scare you, sorry”

you lean back against the wall, keeping a sensible distance between you two

“why were you avoiding the question from before?” he asked, genuinely curious

“because!” you folded your arms.

he smiled moving forward a little. “you like someone in the group!” he smirked

you didn’t say a word.

“i bet you like amity or something”

“no way! i don’t like her, she’s in a relationship!”

hunter tapped his chin, moving forward a little more. “that means you don’t like luz either- or gus, because he’s like 12…”

you gulped.

“you like willow!” he whispered, earning an arched brow from you.

you shook your head

hunter looked confused. “what? there’s nobody else?!” he said, completely puzzled.

“you’re fucking stupid” you laughed, walking back to the room where everyone else was.

hunter took a moment.

“y/n likes luz’s mum?!!!”

he walked back out the bathroom and stopped you in the hallway before you enter the room where eveone else was.

“since when do you have a thing for mums?!!!” he whispered in your ear, making you gasp and turn to hunter

flustered from when he whispered in your ear, you move away a bit. “i don’t like luz’s mum” you said plainly, rolling your eyes.

“who do you like then?!! we’ve know. each other for months, you can tell me” he assured you, looking down into your eyes.

‘this height difference is definitely not making this harder than it has to be.’ you thought.

you sighed, standing on your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck before planting a small kiss in his lips.

he completely froze, turning red. “oh! okay!” he said, nodding his head slightly.

you anxiously stared into his eyes, averting your attention to the floor every few seconds.

“since when?!!?!” he asked

you pursed your lips. “since the night i took back the bruise potion from your room- actually, probably before that to be honest” you admitted.

hunter, broke into laugher, holding on to your shoulder. “i can’t believe i seduced you!” he gasped for air between words.

you punch his arm playfully. “shut the fuck up!!” you smiled, leaning against the wall. “can we just forget i said anything?”

“no” he said as he walked towards you again.

“can you stop cornering me!” you demanded, as he back you into the wall again.

“no”

“okay, this is just unfair!” you shook your head, trying to walk away but being cut off by hunter pushing his hand up against the space you were planning on leaving through.

he leaned in, centimetres a way from your face.

“you’re an arsehole! fuck off!” you whispered, getting interrupted by hunter’s lips netting your own.

this kiss was leagues more passionate that the peck you gave him earlier

you both wished it would never be end

he slowly pulled away, turning red and covering his face after realising what just happened

“omg i did not just do that wtf 😭 why does the hottest girl on the boiling isles like me that’s so gross” he muttered, making your face burn up again.

“the hottest girl on the boiling isles?!” you say, smirking.

hunter broke out of his bubble, “ummmmmmm yeah 🫣”

“that’s sweet” you smiled, placing another kiss on his cheek.

“do just wanna like… date or whatever…?” you asked. hunter nodded. “it’s be an honour dating the hottest girl on the boiling isles”

you both walked back into the room where everyone else was, as they were sat talking in a circle.

“there you two are! we thought you died” willow laughed

“you better not have been making out, otherwise you’ll get cooties” gus said, leaning back into his sleeping bag.

you two instantly looked at each other and turned red. your eyes quickly averted and you shuffled away suspiciously.

amity looked you two down, widening her mouth slightly. “they were making out!!” she whisper-shouted, instinctively hitting luz’s shoulder lightly.

“holy shit!!” luz said

“wait please i can explain-“ hunter said as he tries speaking, but everyone else was already freaking out

luz put your sleeping bags at opposite end of the room just in case

that never stopped anyone 😋

good thing the age of consent is 16!!! (i am sixteen, they are sixteen, the age of consent is sixteen!! i am not writing smut because that’s fucking gross!!! and also this boy is a nerd they would NOT fuck)

ok i wanted to write a few headcanons for your dynamic in and outside of your relationship so that’s here lol 😍 this is basically what you like about each other, how he started liking you, what gets each other flustered, etc…

pre-relationship

you always admired how fucking awkward and oblivious he was

but don’t let that fool you, that man is a massive flirt and can get so cocky (in the hottest way possible)

he knows that he can get you flustered, but he doesn’t think you like him?!!!! he’s so dumb

he is very touch starved so he uses cornering you and getting close as an excuse to feel another person for like 2 seconds

he also secretly really loves when he gets injured because then a pretty girl will bandage him up and tease him which is his ideal situation (mostly cause you’re in it)

he would never say anything about it though

he started liking you when he first got super injured and still was trying to hate you

he appreciated how desperate your mutual disliking for each other, you still provided the best care possible.

you really like how he tried to protect you on missions

if there was ever a threat he’d make sure you stayed behind- not because he didn’t think you were capable but because he didn’t want to see you hurt because of him

you didn’t care and you fought the enemy as well lol

before he stopped wearing the mask as much, he would just stare at you for hours on end because nobody could see where he was looking

you never caught on

during your relationship

he is still SSOSOSO touch starved

touches you every chance he gets

hand holding, touching your hair, hugs, forehead kisses, etc…

he gets close with you every chance he gets, but you both still get flustered anytime you touch

it’s actually so cute

he’s very very gentle with you whenever you’re hugging but you’re very strong and use a lot of force 😭😭 he’s always super shocked like “are you trying to kill me?????”

he’s still a giant flirt

you’re still a giant flirt

very competitive

you both have big spoon energy, but you usually end up being the little spoon because it’s just more comfortable

it’s hard for you to sleep when you’re close because you both just gets soso flustered

your make out sessions are… interesting, considering how easy is is to get you both super flustered and embarrassed

and in a house of 7 people, every time it gets a little more heated than usual, someone just has to walk in

gross

the furthest you could get for a long time was literally just giving each other hickies

so fun to explain to the rest of the group how you both got burnt by a straightener even though the nocedas don’t own a straightener

make out sessions in the forest :)

he’s still so awkward

i love them:(

i love him i love the owl house im gonna cry

……me next week when luke turns evil