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“my kisses are a threat, not a promise”
AND THEN “a threat disguised as a promise” STOP IT STOP IT RIGHT NOW STOP STOP STOP
a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 2.1k
summary: (established relationship) directly after ‘if you need to be mean (be mean to me)’, you realize too late that this is your last day with him. perhaps you feel guilty too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: eye twitches guys im gonna crank out happy asks after this bc this hurt to the point of me delaying it a few days. drink water and take care luke nation
(posted 2/2/24 & betad by ellie and lari ty ladies mwah @lixzey @mrsaluado )
—
Exhaustion creeps up on you slowly, then all at once.
It’s been a long week at Camp Half Blood—with trying to stop a war from starting between the cabins and praying to the gods that the trio can stop everyone’s godrents from destroying the balance of the world, you could say you were kept busy making sure the place doesn’t go up in flames.
Taking orders from Chiron and your dad has been your daily routine from sunrise to sundown, and you were glad to have Luke’s arms to fall into at the end of the night. But you woke up alone this morning, and a heavy feeling in your chest that’s been plaguing you for a while now feels more prominent as you drag your boots across camp for another long day.
Exhaustion blinds us and dulls the senses, but so does love. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was taking effect.
How long were you willing to ignore the signs in front of you?
Maybe it was just another bad day. Your mind felt like it was playing tricks on you, still in a haze from Luke keeping you up the night before, the feeling of his touch still lingering in your pores—evidence of eyebags and lovebites carefully hidden under concealer. You find yourself almost walking in a dream state, before Katie calls out to you, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Did you hear? Annabeth’s back. It’s all gonna be over soon,” she exclaims, and the both of you sigh in relief. You’d do anything to get this over with and take a long break. The idea of a long weekend with Luke somewhere, anywhere but here sounds like Elysium in comparison to what you’ve put yourselves through recently.
“You see Luke anywhere, Katie?”
She hums, her hand reaching out to fix some of the trampled foliage along the path, before she looks up at you, shaking her head.
“Not this morning, no. Maybe he’s with Annabeth?”
You nod thoughtfully, stretching your arms back to soothe the tension in your back. You’ll find him sooner or later, now that this is all over.
You always do.
—-
“Clarisse stole the master bolt.”
Your fingers wound themselves tighter around Luke’s at Percy’s declaration, but you can’t help but watch your boyfriend’s face closely as the rest of the conversation passes in the background. It’s been a weird day, to say the least—helping to set up for Percy’s celebration, and Luke being tightlipped and distant the whole while. You don’t think he’s actually said a single word to you since last night until he dragged you into his cabin to see Annie and Percy.
“Everyone was ready to join the war here. To start fighting each other. An accusation against Clarisse…” you reason awkwardly, more of a question than a statement. Standing here with your friends, you feel like the odd one out. How could you miss out on Clarisse being the lightning thief? But Luke looks at the two kids in front of you as determined as the devil himself.
He knew.
He spares you a sidelong glance, a smile quirking up on the scarred side of his face.
When did Luke start making plans without you?
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, tranquility comes off of you in waves; you barely notice that Luke drops your hand until you hear him speak again.
“You’ve stopped the war. You’ve saved the world. Now, it’s safe to tell Chiron and finish cleaning up the mess. I told him we needed to meet him away from the celebration so we can talk without any of Clarisse’s supporters noticing.” Luke crosses his arms, trying to avoid the reach of your powers and your scorching stare while his gaze is sharp on Percy, and suddenly, the heavy feeling in your chest has a name, revealing itself as doubt.
How could you be so stupid?
Eyes don’t lie, even if Luke does, and you finally see through him, so much that you fear you’ve found his other side.
Annabeth grabs your hand, your head whipping to look at her as she speaks, “We’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you’re gone. Make sure she isn’t going anywhere.” You feel your body shake with paranoia as you start to question everything until the daughter of Athena pulls you back to the present. Taking quick steps out of cabin 11, you take a glance back at Luke, seeing him look glumly at you from the doorway, and it reminds you of a simpler time five years ago, with him standing in the same spot he introduced himself to you on his first day at camp. This time, you don’t walk away.
“I’ll find you later, I…I just need to talk to Luke real quick,” you say biting your lip hesitantly. Annabeth’s gaze is cold as steel as she nods, doubt now running through her as well as she watches you walk back to your boyfriend. You catch him by the arm as he tries to glide past you.
“Hey, are you okay?” You’re searching for an answer Luke will never give you, not out loud—as he dodges your glances, keeping a distance between you two.
“Come on, I’ve gotta go,” he gruffs, anxiety running off of him in waves as his hands fidget at his sides. The sun is setting, and he needs to finish what he was told to do.
“We still have a bit of ti—” He interrupts you swiftly,“Not enough.”
“I know you’re always in charge around here, but not everything can go the way we want, you know?”
Your lips turn into a frown at his words, and you wonder who it is you’re talking to. Surely, not the boy whose arms you fell asleep in last night. You used to be able to figure him out so easily, but now… he’s acting like you’re an enemy. The banter he deals doesn’t usually make you feel like you’re at the short end of a stick, and though he’s right in front of you, it feels like his mind is already miles away. You’re desperate to hold onto whatever you can though, not wanting to let go of whatever’s plaguing him.
“Angelface. Look at me. Percy’s a hero, everything else will fix itself, why are you so—”
Luke sighs, blinking slowly, and you’re surprised when he pulls your hands to his chest, placing them under his camp beads, so you stop speaking.
You never know when the last time is until it happens. You didn’t think it’d feel like this.
“I need to do this.”
He’s not talking about turning in Clarisse anymore, and your body reacts before your mind does, surging forward to hug him. Your fingers run up the expanse of his back, the smell of citrus and musk being familiar but the discomfort in his embrace is not. From here, you can’t see his eyes, but his heart rate accelerates as he wounds his hands in your hair, pulling you closer until the space between you is nonexistent.
“Please,” he mumbles.
Is it a request?
The shock runs through your veins as you try to think of what to say next—Luke’s never been one to beg.
“I’d do anything to protect our home, Luke, you don’t have to convince me when it’s the right thing to do.”
Your name falls from his lips, almost like he disagrees with what you said, and then you realize he’s begging you.
He’s asking for your permission. He’s asking you to let him go.
“You’re my home, trouble. You know that right? You’re the only thing that matters to me.”
You try to nod, try to pull away to look at him but he presses you harder into his embrace, like he knows he won’t have the chance again. It hurts, though not in the way you expect.
“L-Luke, you’re hurting me.” Your breath quickens as you try to unravel yourself from him, but you’re unsure where he ends and you begin.
“Just a little bit longer.”
Your nose buries itself into his neck, and you realize he’s trembling, but you can’t figure out who’s scared, him or you? Voices are echoing in your head and it’s too loud; you clench your fists into his orange camp shirt. Why do you always need to see the proof to believe it’s real? Why do you have to wait until the damage is done?
“I have to do this, trouble. Everything will change and there’s no other way— either we win or we die. Failure isn’t an option for me. Not again.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one,” you mutter, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face the truth for a while more, “but I still love you, despite it.”
Despite this.
A watery chuckle escapes you, and his hands are trembling as he pushes a strand of your hair back. He holds onto you more softly now, and whether you know it or not, it’s to make up for all the time he’ll have to go without holding you after this. Percy calls out to him in the distance and once Luke frees you from his arms, you wonder why it feels like you’re unraveling at the seams, slowly parting from him. The tether you have on each other loosens, and it’s hard to tell who is being freed, and who is letting go. Luke walks away wordlessly, curls bouncing in the brisk air without a second glance until you call out to him.
“I’ll find you!”
A threat disguised as a promise, you stand there in the middle of the path feeling exposed as the wretched little girl at your core, desperate to be loved, desperate to be enough.
But it’s not enough for him to stay, now is it?
—-
The truth is, Luke broke your heart before you even lost him, by hitting you where it hurts— he hit home. Camp Half-Blood has always been the one place you’ve known as home, and even if you claim to hate it—you’d die protecting it if that’s what was needed of you. You stay vigilant next to Annabeth, who looks up at your unusually quiet demeanor, and you feel like you have to confess to a crime that you didn’t commit.
“Luke’s leaving camp.”
She nods stiffly without answering you, wondering if you know about what else he’s done, too. Unlike you though, she’d rather find out before the damage is done.
The sun had set an hour ago, and fireworks were going off in the distance, everyone celebrating a hero’s return. You noticed Clarisse still sitting around the campfire with her siblings, Chiron still present and watching the festivities, and what had to be your last straw was noticing Annabeth had disappeared from your side. So you do what you do best, chase after Luke, and hope that you’re not too late.
Your breath heaves as you run through the dark forest without a single plan in mind and hoping, just hoping that no one’s hurt. You run faster towards the sound of swords clanging against each other, two figures illuminated by the fireworks in the distance.
What you didn’t expect to see was Luke’s sword pointed at an injured son of Poseidon sprawled out in the dirt.
“Percy!” your voice yells out shakily, your instincts kicking in as the truth is laid out in front of you, something darker and much worse than anything you could’ve imagined. Blue light illuminates the scarred side of your boyfriend’s face as he turns to look at you with shimmering eyes, and you see Annabeth with her sword raised at…the both of you.
Is this what love is…looking at a person who’s hurt you and still hoping they’re alright? You’re exhausted, wondering how long he’s been lying to your face—while he holds you, kisses you, and takes your pain away… and it all amounted to feeling guilty for letting his deception slip through your fingers, for hurting people you love.
Luke’s scar you used to compare to a bolt of lightning now looks like a tear cascading from regret. And perhaps he does regret this, losing Annabeth and losing you, but he never turns back on his word once he’s made a decision.
This one was just made without you.
There’s a moment where everything goes silent despite the booming in the sky and you both take one last good look at each other, and Percy and Annabeth are unsure if you two look like forlorn lovers, or partners in crime.
“Castellan…”
His face hardens again at the wavering sound of your voice, almost unrecognizable in the dim light, and you know now that this is it. You’ve always been convinced that a love like the one you and Luke share is tailor-made and stitched together by the Fates. But the strings are cut, and like Atropos, he’s the one holding the scissors.
The last thing you see are his dark eyes and how he turns to run away, headfirst into a future without you.
For a second you could’ve sworn they flashed gold.
—-
“I wanted to hurt you
but the victory is that I could not stomach it.”
-Richard Siken
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @bo0k-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen
ECLIPSE- PROLOGUE, PART ONE, PART TWO
luke castellan x reader
ABOUT - luke invites you, the strange dionysus girl, to spar with him. luke makes a revelation, and you invite him to hang out.
A/N - hey y’all! it’s been a while!! so here i am, with an introductory chapter to a three parter luke x reader series called ‘eclipse’.
there’s not a lot happening in this chapter, but it’s important to the next chapter me thinks :P
also i think i’m sooo funny 😭 the title will make even more sense soon ok
WARNINGS - swearing n alcohol mention and that’s it
to say luke castellan didn’t like you would be a big understatement. but it would also be untrue.
the reality of his feelings towards you were much more complicated than simply ‘liking’ or ‘hating’ you.
his feelings towards you were completely incomprehensible. and he hated it.
you were just… so strange. the eldest daughter of dionysus, a talented actress, a rebellious girl with a sharp tongue and an even sharper blade. you were everything all at once; and it perplexed him to no end.
maybe that’s why your rivalry persisted throughout all these years. you made no sense, and luke needed everything to make sense. he needed everything to be predictable and understandable.
and you were neither of those things.
but there was also a comfort in the way that you consistently confused him- a sense of irregularity that provided him with the same comfort he would receive from those who were less strange than you were. maybe a bit more comfort, it fact.
it was truly comforting; the fact that you were always there to annoy and pester him when he was training, or at the campfire, or when you asked him to spar.
it was comforting knowing there was always someone there to challenge him- someone there to make him feel the same feeling over and over again… until the feeling changed.
“y/n, i need to talk to you.”
his voice echoed throughout the training grounds, alarming you enough to whip your head around fast to find the source of such commotion.
you were standing in the middle of the grounds, the remains of the practice dummies you were throwing your axe at scattered around the premises.
luke watched your hair move with the soft summer wind as you turned around to face him, no doubt in his mind that you knew exactly what he wanted.
“yeah? ‘bout what?”
your face was a little red and your arms were a little tired from your undoubtably taxing training session. if luke saw you like this a few months ago, he’d chuckle at how disheveled you looked.
but it was not a few months ago.
to distract himself from your appearance, his eyes trailed down to your hands as you tightly gripped your axe. it always freaked him out seeing you with that gnarly axe- throwing that thing around like it weighed nothing.
“hello? about what?” you asked again breathily, swinging your axe back and forth aimlessly as you tried to get his attention.
it seemed as though he had been distracted by something. something strange and pretty and unusual. and whatever it was, he needed to snap out of it before he went crazy.
“i need a sparring partner,” he stated blankly, leaning his back against the nearest pillar and letting out an exasperated breath.
“you’re the only one in camp who can give me somewhat of a challenge. anyways,” he took a good look at you, tapping his fingers against his forearm.
“i’m bored. wanna fight?”
you shrugged your shoulders, recklessly tossing your axe to the side and unsheathing your sword.
“yeah, okay,” you said dryly.
your hair fell over your face as you looked up at him, groaning in irritation at the minor inconvenience.
“hold my sword for a minute?” you asked blankly as you offered your sword out to luke for him to take.
luke looked down at you, amused by how easily you were able to ask him for a favour- even if it was just a minor one. it seemed like you were growing a lot more reliant on him these days. or maybe more comfortable with him? who knows.
“yeah, okay,” he said reluctantly, taking the sword from your hands.
he watched you in silence as you took a step back, running your hand through your hair.
“you really aren't much of a talker, are you?” he asked, smiling smugly as his eyes followed the flow of your hair.
you pulled a hair tie off of your wrist, quickly tying my your hair into a lazy ponytail.
“oh, i’m a big talker. just not with you,” you said bluntly, your voice playful and smug as you flashed him a mischievous smile.
luke liked it when you smiled. he liked to imagine that all the stars in the sky got together on the night you were born, and decided to use their stardust to construct ever feature on your face. your dainty freckles, the shining bright whites of your eyes- the pure magic of your little smile.
‘the fuck is wrong with you? stop being weird.’
you quickly took back the sword, your fingers grazing against his during the little exchange.
“i can tell,” luke commented breathily, raising an eyebrow. his eyes narrowed slightly, before he raised his sword as well.
“you ready? or are you just gonna keep standing there looking pretty?”
“i’m always ready, castellan,” you hummed, taking a few steps towards the middle of the training grounds, and getting into position.
“whatever,” he rolled his shoulders and followed suite. “on three?”
you nodded, and let your body tense up as he started counting down.
“one, two, three-“
Luke lunged forward, stabbing his sword towards your chest. He made good use of the length of his blade, keeping as much distance between you and him as possible.
despite this, you managed to quickly dodge him, your sword clanging against his as you bit down on your lip. you quickly attempted a shot at his waist, your eyes locked on his sword as you shuffled around.
Luke smirked as the two blades clashed together, you going for his legs and him going for your chest. he attempted another stab at your chest, and when you evaded, he kicked out to try and trip you- something he figured would throw you off, or at the very least, off-balance.
you seemed to not fall for such cheap tricks. as he backed away to create some distance between you and him, he smiled. this was exactly what he wanted.
a challenge.
he heard you groan, offering a sly smirk before watching you attempt a sneaky stab at his arm.
your hair bounced with every movement, your technique airy and light- almost unpredictable enough to make him second guess his own strategy.
you speed caught luke off-guard, taken aback by the sudden stab. he definitely wasn’t expecting that.
your fast and swift movements, paired with the excellent control of your blade made him sweat a bit. he had no choice but to back away, before lunging forward with his sword once more.
you quickly dodged his attack, the sound of blades clanging echoing throughout the area as your breaths got heavier and heavier.
you moved forwards, attempting another attack at his chest.
he quickly blocked your sword, moving in with a stab at your neck- but you were too quick. you resisted the attack, hitting his sword with yours. you shuffled around again, attacking his other arm as you took a second to study him and his movements.
you attacked him yet again, moving his blade to block. the same sounds of metal clashing against each other continuing.
your attack at his arm was successful. he’d taken a little step back at the sudden pain.
luke raised his sword for a stab at your side, attempting to catch you right in the gut—this would put you on the defensive for sure… right?
you quickly blocked his attack on my side, left with a little cut on your forearm.
luke was shocked at how easily you were able to defend yourself against him. you had been training and sparring and competing against him for years- obviously you were a talented fighter.
but luke had grown accustomed to winning. now? he felt intimidated.
like knew his arms were his weak spot, but he hadn’t expected you to realize this yourself. your counterattacks came quicker now that you’d discovered the most effective way to get him out of commission.
the two of you were now evenly-matched in the sense that neither of you could land an attack at the other, and this was starting to get exciting.
you started trying to take cheap shots at his arms and legs, pissing luke off further. it was like you cracked the code.
you were winning.
He grunted, breathing heavily. he was struggling to move against each of your quick attacks, trying to match the sheer speed and agility of your balde.
and to his surprise; he was starting to get tired.
as soon as he tried attacking you, you blocked it- hard. this caused the sword to fly out of his hand.
disarming him was much easier after he was tired and distracted.
then, you lunged at him.
you held your blade against luke’s neck as you pushed him to the ground, straddling his hips as you looked down at him.
“do i win?” you asked smugly, restraining his movements.
you had giving luke a run for his money. the best swordsman at camp was now at the mercy of your sword.
while you two were similar in skill across all aspects of fighting, you had rarely ever beaten him in a sword fight.
“yeah, sure, sure you win,” he growled, attempting to shove you off of his lap.
“now get off me.”
he looked up at you, noticing the proud smile plastered across your face. it wasn’t cocky, or smug- it was proud.
and as much as he’d hate to admit it, he was genuinely impressed with you.
you finally lifted your body off his, standing up as you twirled your sword around.
“huh. i didn’t know i was this good with a sword…” you mumbled, looking down at the blade.
luke stared up at you, rolling his eyes as he got up.
“still obnoxious as ever, though,” he mumbled dryly.
luke glanced at your sword for a moment before turning his gaze away. he walked over to his sword, picking it up off the ground and sheathing it as he turned back around to face you.
“you’re not bad. obviously,” he said bluntly, his cheeks red and his face sweaty from the challenging sparring match as he walked back over to you.
“your attacks are unpredictable. quick, agile. you have a good technique.”
you furrowed your brows, a little confused by his kind comments and praises.
“technique? i just kept my eyes on your sword and tried to get you tired enough to disarm you,” you explained, sheathing your sword.
“i’d hardly call that technique. you’re much better than i am,” you added.
that was unexpected. a compliment? or… was that sarcastic? what the fuck is going on?
you were probably just tired; that’s why you were downplaying your achievements. that’s why you were offering him praise despite his shortcomings.
“i’m probably stronger than you, but you’re much faster. agility is just as important as strength,” luke replied, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
you shrugged your shoulders, smiling smugly as you took out your ponytail.
“well, i gotta make up for my lack of raw muscles somehow,” you retorted breathily, your tone playful and your voice light as you smiled at him.
you were a child of dionysus- you weren’t supposed to be a fighter, you were supposed to be an actress. but it made sense for you to go against the grain like that. you were an unpredictable, hotheaded, arrogant, theatrical girl… who could also somehow take him in a fight.
luke tried not to gawk at how your hair fell over your shoulder as you shook your head.
as much as he hated noticing it, your hair was really pretty.
it was probably one of his favourite things about you.
luke stared into your eyes as you spoke, his gaze unwavering as he admired your sheer confidence- even when downplaying yourself.
and there it was. the same feeling that had been fucking him over everyday for the past 2 months. a feeling that he was starting to get uncomfortably familiar with recently; fondness. admiration. adoration.
you were the moon. constant, yet always changing. bright, yet most comfortable surrounded by the confines of the dark.
you were his moon.
and you were beautiful.
‘ew, stop.’
luke didn’t appreciate the new soft spot he was harbouring for a certain dionysus girl. he hated how his heart was constantly making space for her. and he hated that his brain was just as complicit.
“i mean, you don’t need to ‘make up’ for anything. muscle isn’t really that important in a sword fight,” he said, crossing his arms as he finally pulled his eyes away from yours.
you nodded lightheartedly, idly running your hand through your hair as you turned your head away from his.
gods, he could watch you play with your hair all day if he could. of course, he’d prefer to play with it himself, but watching you do it was almost as good.
“hm. i guess you’re right,” you sighed, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your shorts lazily.
“anyways, sword fighting is way too much effort. i prefer throwing axes at people.”
luke smirked, rolling his eyes playfully and he looked over at you.
“i still can’t believe you’d choose an axe over a sword.” he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, “you’re so… eccentric.”
“what do you expect? mr. d is my dad,” you said playfully, earning a reluctant chuckle from luke.
“i guess i shouldn’t be surprised,” he replied. “but seriously, who chooses an axe as their primary weapon? why not a bow or something?”
you rolled you eyes, shaking your head at the boy in disagreement.
“the arrows are too flimsy. i prefer wielding something with a bit more weight,” you explained. luke shook his head in disbelief, chuckling dryly.
“you’re so weird… who else uses an axe for their weapon of choice?” he asked out of genuine curiosity, a hint of sarcasm laced in his tone.
“and don’t say something like ‘oh, tons of people’ or something.”
“oh, tons of people,” you repeated, mocking him playfully as you took your hands out of your pockets. you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, letting out a smug chuckle.
“shut up,” luke scoffed, his usual smirk plastered on his face.
gods, it felt like his feelings were becoming more evident by the minute. he was going insane.
‘you like her, don’t you?’
the thought popped into his head again.
‘shut it out, or else it’ll get awkward.’
he wasn’t about to ruin the fun you were having.
and besides, he didn’t like you. he couldn’t like you.
you were literally the daughter of the camp director. and you were insufferable. or… well- that’s a lie. you used to be insufferable.
it seemed as though age had provided you two with a new sense of maturity; letting your rivalry calm down and allowing you two to finally get along.
and as much as luke hated to admit it, he kinda liked getting to know you. he liked spending time with you. but he always did- that’s why you two spend so much time fighting, right?
luke was suddenly snapped out of his head by the sound of footsteps hitting the floor of the training grounds. he looked up to see your back as you walked away, his eyebrows furrowing at your silent departure.
“where are you going?” he called out.
you turned around quickly, quirking your head to the side.
“the campfire, obviously?” your said, your hands stuffed in your pockets again.
“aren’t you coming?” you asked, staring him down playfully with a friendly smile.
luke’s eyebrows rose, his body freezing as he thought it over.
‘she’s mocking you.’
‘no she isn’t- you’re the leader of the hermes cabin. you have to come to the campfires, dickhead.’
‘can’t be bothered, nah.’
“i have better things to do, thanks.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood in the middle of the training grounds.
you raised your eyebrows, a little smirk emerging on your face.
“you sure? because as soon as the younger campers head back to their cabins, us older demigods are going down to the lake,” you said, crossing your arms to mirror his defensive stance.
“… and i’ve got a bottle of wine and half a bottle of vodka hidden under my bed,” you whispered as you took a step forwards, shooting him a mischievous wink.
vodka? that was enough to pull him in, even if they were supposed to have a little rivalry going. but then again, they were barley rivals anymore.
it’s not like he was big on drinking, but he was big on discarding his responsibilities- even if it was just for a few hours.
he paused for a moment, staring at you as he contemplated whether or not he should come to the campfire.
luke didn’t even care if you guys didn’t like each other that much, he still wanted to spend more time with you. besides, he didn’t see the problem in exploiting the way you guys were being a lot more civil to each other recently in order to get a little tipsy.
“yeah fine,” he mumbled, “i’ll come.”
hey 👋 i’m going to buy myself a gun ^_^
a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 1.5k
summary: (established relationship) you and your boyfriend are so good for each other, until you’re not—and both of you feel guilty leading up to that night (Luke Castellan x dionysus!reader)
warnings: suggestive mdni if you’re uncomfortable – nondescript mentions of sex
a/n: someones gotta take mitski away from the pjo editors for fucks sake. yes, this is based off of ‘i don’t smoke’ (audiotree live) don’t look at me.
(posted 1/30/24 thanks to my betas ellie and lari @lixzey & @mrsaluado )
___
[ you come down and tell me, “i was meant for you”, baby || being with you makes the flame burn good ]
Your father once told you when you were younger that you were a divining rod for mayhem; you attract it, cause it, and in very few instances, you are the cure. It’s why your roles and responsibilities at camp hid you away from your full potential, and Luke knew you could achieve greatness if you left with him. He understood your madness more than you’ll ever know, and saw you for what you are–his cure. But he made his choice long before he recognized his devotion to you, distancing himself in order to fulfill his plans of waging war against the gods. Sweet and sultry words slip from his lips to distract you from the growing distance of his heart from yours. A distraction is what he’s always been, and he’s good at playing the part. After all, everything he’s learned about deception and acting, he’s picked up from you.
The guilt still sits heavy in his heart as he watches you walk around your bedroom the night before he leaves. Luke’s wondered if there’s any way he can convince you to come with him, but he knows your heart is softer than his, more forgiving. He thinks his damnation is past forgiveness anyway.
You trod over to meet him on your bed, hands full of moisturizer as you climb onto his lap and you look so willing and pliant to whatever he’ll say next. Luke knows you’ve been extra gentle with him lately, and it makes him sigh. This would be easier if you hated each other. But that’s the farthest thing from the truth.
Soft hands rub the moisturizer into his skin, delicately caressing his scar, and when he opens his eyes again, you’re smiling and looking how he wants to remember you. His lovely girl, who holds his rage like someone should’ve held his 9-year-old self running away from home. His hands settle around your hips, holding onto you until he can’t anymore and Luke wonders if there was any prophecy out there that could’ve told him that he’d always be running home to you. He just has to take the long way home this time.
By morning, you might not look at him with this much love, and he’s not even sure you’ll forgive him, so he pulls you into a kiss so deep that even Kronos’s attacks on his mind can’t pull him away.
“Mmmm,” you moan, gasping for air as he continues the assault down your neck, marking you with his lips so you have something to remember him by, “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s gotten into you, angelface?” If only you knew.
“Can’t help it baby, you’ve got a face I’d go to war for,” he mutters, pressing another kiss to your lips, “and a heart I’d die for.” He’s smiling into your cheek, but his expression falters for a moment when you look into his golden-flecked eyes.
Maybe you know more than you let on, awareness cognizant in your features. The jig is up, and he’s ready for you to call him out on it—but a half smile falls upon your face instead, and for some reason, this feels like the inevitable goodbye. There was never much you two could hide from each other after all.
“I know it’s been hard lately, Luke. But let me take your pain away. Please,” and it sounds almost like you’re begging.
The both of you are a little guilty tonight, hearts heavy and conscious of what this means for the both of you, hoping that your actions will suffice as the coercion, the explanation, the apology— instead of the unspoken truth that will come to light when you wake.
___
[ if you need to be mean, be mean to me || i can take it and put it inside of me ]
Both of you are more desperate tonight, bodies moving languidly like you have all the time in the world. It’s a conversation in itself as he ruts into you, trying to stuff you to the brim so you won’t forget what it’s like to feel him in your bones.
‘Promise you’ll remember me.’
Here, in the confines of cabin 12, you are his alone, and there are no gods or monsters that can take away the feeling of you from under his fingertips. Yours are grasping onto his arms, leaving crescent-shaped indents as you will away whatever’s eating at his brain, and through the golden glint of his irises, for a moment he looks like himself again, unburdened and soft.
‘Is there any other way?’
He’s convinced your wanton moans are his salvation, legs thrown over his shoulders, and his name in your mouth. You’re hanging onto him for dear life as he melts into you, and you wonder if you hold on any tighter, maybe this won’t have to end. But the both of you are chasing an inescapable conclusion, obstructing any thoughts or words with another tangle of your lips.
‘I don’t know how to be without you.’
Tongues clashing like swords for one last battle, and there’s no winner at the end of this one, no matter how good it feels.
“Luke, p-please!”
The scream rattles your throat and his fingers graze your pulsepoint as he moans lowly, watching your eyes roll back. It’s undetermined what you’re asking for, but the both of you bask in what comes after, him falling into your embrace as you writhe at the thought of wondering if this is the only glory you can offer him and if it’s enough to satiate his inherent need for revenge.
‘How do you expect me to forget you?’
___
[ if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room || you can lean on my arm as you break my heart || just don’t leave me alone wondering where you are ]
'You could fix him.'
The thought echoes as loudly as Kronos’ orders recalibrate in his brain the edges blurred from your powers, and he stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling as he lets out a deep breath.
His mind is clearer than it’s been in months, and his gaze turns to see you watching him, messy hair framing your sleepy face. Your eyelids flutter slowly as you both take each other in, immortalizing this moment with both of you hoping the other will change their mind. Luke pulls your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips before holding it over his heart. If there was anything else you could do to extract his madness, you’ve already exhausted all your efforts. And if there was a way to make you see his perspective, he’s run out of words to convince you. Both of you are stubborn and more like your fathers than you care to admit; what a shame that neither of you has the power to prove them wrong. The fear is the only thing keeping you both awake now. If you close your eyes, you might never see him again.
“You need to rest now, baby. Think I’m gonna stay up for a little while longer,” Luke whispers into the dim light.
“Are you gonna stay here tonight?” The words slur from your lips as you fight the weight of your eyelids, desperate for a moment longer with your lover. You hope that even as you lose consciousness you’ll still be able to finish the job for his sake.
“There’s nowhere else I’d be, trouble.”
___
[ i am stronger than you give me credit for ]
As soon as he’s sure you’re asleep, he lifts your hand off his heart and sneaks out from under your covers without a sound. Pulling his clothes on and grabbing his converse, Luke makes sure there’s no trace left of him here. It’ll be easier for you when you wake up, less of his mess to pick up after. He looks around your room and admires how it’s a museum of your relationship—a liberty he was never able to have or fully share with you in cabin 11.
Surely that’s the gods’ fault too, that he’s never had anything to call his own besides you and the space you share with him wholeheartedly. His fingers hover over the photos of you two tacked to your bulletin board, and the flowers he picked from the field sitting in a vase. Luke turns to you, creeping to your sleeping figure, and tucks you in properly under the duvet, hands seamlessly making his side of the bed. He tries to ignore your outstretched hand resting on his pillow.
At the very least, Luke hopes you know that he cares for you so meticulously in this way, knowing that he’s about to lose himself as soon as he walks off the campgrounds. He hovers over the foot of your bed, inhaling the scent of berries and linen for one last time.
“It’s you and me, trouble. I love you.”
Every step he takes towards the door and down the stairs of your loft is a nail in his coffin.
Luke chooses to wage war upon the world so that when you find him again, he’ll be a better man.
A hero.
All for you.
He just hopes that he can see it through.
___
“To make her happy, I would invent God if I had to.” -Marguerite Duras
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