💌 anabelle.

fighting my way up to your tongue so i can die upon it

pairing: farmhand!luke castellan x fem!reader (established relationship)

content: SMUT! sexual content and the likes, minors do not interact! hints of broody!luke, fingering, humping, making out

synopsis: you tag along with luke when going to the farmer's market. you pull over within the first half of the trip.

ᯤ NOW PLAYING : tongue by ethel cain (unreleased)

a new section on the farm has opened; a garden. the terrain is carved out and perfected, but bare. you vaguely hear your dad giving the farmhand a list of seeds and tools he needs from the farmers market, and luke is silent as his boss instructs him.

you’d been reading a book, all of your chores for the day completed and waiting for you until tomorrow. you get up from your bed, where you’d been laying on your tummy, and creep into the hall.

luke is brushing his teeth in the bathroom. when you stand in the doorway, he makes eye contact with you for a moment, and then spits the toothpaste out. “what?”

“are you going somewhere?”

he flosses, making sure to get the crevice between his front teeth. “market.”

luke doesn’t seem to mind talking to you, but it’s not like he also seems particularly thrilled. you’d say the two of you are acquaintances who fuck on occasion.

you shift on your socked feet. “can i come?”

the man spins to look at you, studying your face as if he thinks you’re being stupid, and he says, “yeah,” with the same expression.

“okay.” he brushes past you, grabbing his keys from the table in the hallway, and makes his way to the front door. you make sure to tell your dad you’re going with luke, and your dad isn’t as suspicious as he probably should be; within twenty minutes, (half the drive to the market,) the two of you are both in the driver’s seat of luke’s pick up truck.

the sounds your lips make are so soothing when you missed the feeling. luke tastes like the strawberries he’d stolen from your plate during lunch. you sigh against his lips and shift forward on his lap, and he responds by flattening his palms over the curve of your ass.

your arms wind around his neck. his wind around your waist. the denim of his jeans feel rough against the denim of your cut offs. your knees dig into the fabric of the seat on either side of his legs. the truck is so old and weary that it creaks a horrendous noise at every shift of your lips against luke’s. the interior smells like straight dust and cigarettes, but also the sweet scent of luke’s cologne.

you think you could spend your entire summer here in this truck with the beautiful man below you.

oddly enough, the two of you have never done anything in the truck. luke likes it late at night in your bed or early in the morning in the stables. there was one instance on the counter, too, but it was short lived because the garage door had groaned with the signal that your father had gotten home.

you pull away from luke’s lips to look at him, but he doesn’t let you do so for long. he tips your head back so he can suck at the skin of your neck, and you immediately push at his shoulders, chastising him.

luke huffs but busies himself with his hands your hips and guiding you to grind against him. you almost giggle at the feeling, so, so relieved. you lay your head on his shoulder and relish in the feeling building up in your belly.

the two of you pant like you’re running a marathon. it feels a little dirty because the windows are fogging up with the heat of your breaths and you both can feel each others arousal mixing together.

luke sighs, resting his head against the headrest of the laid back chair to watch your hips move, and your hands find his chest to steady yourself. when he recognizes you’re doing all the work, he lays back with his arms behind his head. “that’s it, sugar.”

a desperate sound of some sort falls from your lips, and you almost topple over in an attempt to get closer to him. however, you manage to lean down jut far enough to capture his lips, and he pulls away to spit in your mouth.

you lick the stray dribbles that handled on your lips, and then you swallow. “luke, ‘s gonna be dark soon, and we haven’t even gotten there yet,” you realize out loud.

the boy shrugs, eyes low so he can watch his pants getting stained. “we left thirty minutes ago.” you don’t respond because luke is leaning forward to press his thumb against your clit through your jean shorts.

you swivel your hips as if to get away from his hand. his expression doesn’t budge. luke’s hand travels back to your ass to encourage your grinding movements. at one point, you cry out, feeling so much pleasure that you can’t believe it. luke smiles a big toothy grin, his sharp canines poking his bottom lip, and he coos, “yeah?”

“yeah,” you answer in a breath.

your lips find each other again. kissing luke is as easy as breathing; he takes all the initiative. you think you could die on his tongue.

both of your saliva mixes together, a substance you’ve come to love the taste of. luke nudges your heat with his thumb again.

moments later, luke is maneuvering you to bend over the center console. you put your arms on the passenger seat, head resting on them as he shifts onto his knees behind you. he reaches around your body to unbutton and unzip your shorts, and they’re quickly dragged down your legs.

luke sighs at the sight of your panties, and the sound makes you remember the pair you’d picked: a lacy red. there’s a faint pulsing at the back of your thigh. you try not to smirk to yourself in satisfaction.

soon enough, your underwear is shoved to the side and luke’s fingers are tracing your folds. you spread your legs slightly to make room, and he pushes in a little bit. your hips jump, and luke takes it as the sign to start pressing in.

however, when he does, there’s not one of his large fingers, or even two. three of them are quickly shoving in, and you cry, already feeling tears build on your waterline. in a panic, you cry, “too much, too much.”

luke scoffs from behind you and pays no mind to your comment. his fingers continue their journey and he says, “too much? no, baby, ‘s perfect.”

“can’t take it,” you mewl.

your body twists to get away from the fingers, to remove the intrusion. luke pushes a big hand at the bottom of your back and your feeble attempt turns into a stretch of an arched back. he huffs, “yes you can. you already are; i’m so proud of you.”

if that doesn’t motivate you, you don’t know what would. you suck it up and nod, and then you moan for him, pushing your hips back.

luke smiles, pressing deeper. “see? i told you. i know you. knew you could do it.”

you see stars, the feeling leading you to your orgasm, and you moan his name.

luke feels his pants growing messier at the sound.

NASTY NINETEEN — luke castellan x reader !!!!

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader (established relationship)

content: SMUT! sexual content and the likes, minors do not interact! hints of dark!luke at the end, oral (m!receiving), p in v, intimacy, sort of sweetness cuteness loveliness

synopsis: luke's absolute angel finally grants him with what he has missed for so long

ᯤ NOW PLAYING : birthday sex by jeremih

it's july nineteenth and the sun shines through your windows; you wake up just as early as you'd hoped. it's seven a.m, and manage to remove yourself from the comfortable solace that is your bed, changing out of your pajamas and into a cinched camp halfblood shirt and a mini jean skirt. you admire yourself in the mirror as always, and then you roll your shoulders and slide on your converse.

the walk to cabin eleven is calm. only children of athena and apollo are up this early in the morning, too immersed in studies to cause a ruckus, and although cabin seven kids are usually exhausting and rather noisy with their music, early mornings are calm and only filled with the sound of arrows hitting targets.

you push the door open to the hermes cabin. some of luke's cabin mates (mostly younger siblings and unclaimed and miscellaneous campers) lay awake in bed, glancing at you curiously as you weave through the sleeping children on the floor. you make your way straight to the door at the back of the cabin, the counselor's bedroom, a privilege both you, luke, and many of your counselor friends get. the door creaks quietly in protest at the force, but not loud enough to wake the still sleeping crowd.

the door is locked quickly before you tip toe to the birthday boy. his navy blue comforter is pulled all the way to just below his eyes, and the constriction on both his mouth and nose has him breathing heavily enough for him to snore. his black curls are tussled and hanging just above his brows. you sit down on the bed and brush them from his forehead.

luke castellan is nineteen years old today.

at the touch of your hands in his hair, when you sweep it from the center of his face, his eyes twitch until they focus on you. he stares, not awake yet, then closes his eyes again, humming at you.

"good morning," you whisper softly, finally taking your hands from his hair. you carefully drag the covers away from his face, and luke blinks a few times in response. he's awake now.

idc how overdone it might be, just thinking about licking luke’s scar as he’s mid stroke; having his balls smack the base of your ass over and over as he pumps all seven and a half inches of his shaft inside your pulsing cunt, both your cum and spit all collecting in his wire-y pubes, the spring mattress that squeaks beneath you being the song on your sex playlist.