[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Andulka
🪼
RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON
Stranger Things
Today's Document
DEAR READER

Origami Around
hello vonnie
$LAYYYTER

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Monterey Bay Aquarium

@theartofmadeline
art blog(derogatory)
One Nice Bug Per Day
styofa doing anything
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#extradirty
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@lukes-blade
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
guys I miss Luke 😔
honestly it probably goes against every Disney contract but if Charlie Bushnell Is old enough to drink I’d say he’s old enough for a Quinn audio.
the duality of tumblr for an 18 year old girl
THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡
♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.
I think Mac should mes up bad or something and Luke should like save the day cause lowkey
texts with frat!luke castellan
especially yours
i love this sm
P3 of luke instagram pls
✶. ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ IG notes with luke castellan x reader
pt1 , pt2 , pt3: accusation after accusation...
lukes pov:
----
do not worry for this is not the end of ig notes with luke castellan!!! i MIGHT make oneshots if the demand is high hehehe
requests open!!!
taglist: @moond0llie , @politelylosingmymind , @naiohara , @piecesofmysoull , @burpmaster200 , @calysticollision , @rosiemain , @moonbeamzt , @tigerjellywishes , @lvlyu , @mystic-aquarius , @totheseok , @myunperfektstorys , @sadi3-rose , @wormtime , @miarollypolly , @loserinadress , @saturnsuns-work , @charmingnova , @terr1blysorry , @rxsallne , @incrediblyferaleclipse , @bananazsworld , @marcythebughugger , @nxvry , @brthofv3nus , @schmoneylover , @emmaybe , @korineqhime , @m1keyluvsmoi , @jmgrule , @thewayilovedyou13 , @fempercyjackson , @shortyshort , @pinkprincessposting , @kingoveverything , @shelivesforthehopeofitall , @xoxocherry4 , @jomamaonthebeat , @adorabluesposts , @stinkeeeee , @ifilwtmfc , @kamiliora , @percabethenthusiastlolz , @exhaustedtheatrekid , @athql1a , @loonylups , @heartbreakgirl1996 , @joskcfifif , @harlowsgirl , @st4rgirrrl , @danggggggg , @lOserhuman , @turasnsmonO , @songfordalia
ִֶָ☾. tears run down my thighs
luke castellan x fem!reader. 1.3k words
synopsis: your boyfriend is just way too hot, sometimes you can’t control yourself.
warnings: reader has a slight choking and praise kink, everybody is horny and needy, dry humping, making out, fingering?
note: wanted to let you know that all of my knowledge is based off the things i’ve read, i’m not 100% if everything is correct so correct me </3
It was Luke’s fault for being so hot. Come on, the way his biceps flexed every time he swung his sword.
How he taught all of the younger campers the basics of sword fighting, and he’s good with kids!
And especially the way he touched you late at night in the forest sometime past curfew. He pulled you out of bed, hand gripping tightly on yours as he led you to the forest.
When he pinned you against the tree, a hand resting on your thigh directing up and inwards while the other held your neck, thumb and index finger on either side as he pressed down.
Luke’s lips collided on you like a starved man, hungry and passionate. Dancing with yours. His grip on your thigh tightening and sending shivers of pleasure to your below.
“You looked so pretty t’night.” Luke mumbled breathlessly in your ear, his lips parting from yours and down to your jawline.
Planting sloppy kisses along your neck and trailing down to your collarbones, often sucking on a piece of flesh.
Amusement flickering in Luke’s eyes as he pulled his head away for a second, his hand around your neck now holding onto your shoulder with his thumb caressing the deep purple mark on your collarbone.
You felt a twitch, a pulse against your thigh, grinning to yourself. “Lips on mine, Lukey…” you grabbed his face, cupping his jaw with both of your hands and pulling his soft lips to yours again.
Luke slipped his tongue in your mouth, a moan leaving your mouth. His lips pulling into a smirk against yours while he grinded his hips forward to meet yours, often nipping at your bottom lip.
You reached a hand to the nape of his neck, trailing up until your fingers tangled in his hair. With a tug, he moaned into your mouth.
It was your turn to smirk.
You tugged again just to make sure you weren’t dreaming, but he moaned again as he devoured you.
Your name leaving his mouth disappearing into your sloppy kisses. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Luke panted, tugging down the collar of your camp half-blood shirt to have more access to your skin, just above your breasts.
You hummed in content and delight, your fingers trailing down while leaving goosebumps on his tan skin until they were holding onto his strong biceps.
Again, the way Luke’s biceps flexed made you even more turned on then before.
And, oh gods, his hands. His long, calloused, massive fingers. You just wanted to grab his hands away from your body and bring them to your wetness.
Luke noticed the way you were lost staring at his arms then smirked. “You like my arms?” you nodded, a betraying whimper leaving your lips as his hips grinded against yours.
Bulge prominent and rubbing against your lower stomach. “What about my hands?” he grabbed his hand away from your waistline and up in front of your face.
You nodded quickly, not caring about if you were too needy, only wanting his fingers inside of you.
Luke paused for a moment before bringing two of his fingers and shoving them into your mouth.
You sighed in pleasure and his eyes darkened. His calloused fingers dipped around your mouth, your tongue sucking on them instinctively, your salvia covering them as you pretended they were his cock.
Luke adjusted himself so that his bulge was more in line with your cunt, his hips grinding yours more forcefully and needily than before.
His hand gripped onto your thigh tightly before rolling his hips, so very desperate. You multitasked, sucking on his warm fingers in mouth and your hands on his lower back pushing him into your arousal.
Your head fell back against the tree, tilting upwards so that you could see the night sky and how the stars scattered.
The friction between your hips was overwhelming, you could feel a coil pooling up in your lower stomach enjoying the way he rubbed against you, teasing your entrance.
“My needy girl.” Luke praised.
His fingers finally left your mouth, your salvia on them and a string of it connecting your mouth and his digits. Luke trailed his hand down his jeans, the belt already discarded a while ago.
He touched his length, his fingers with your salvia on it rubbing it as Luke continued grinding against you.
He moaned, eyes fluttering shut before he took his hand out of his jeans. Luke placed his new free hand on your hips, thrusting into you.
With every thrust it elicited a small whimper from you and Luke, him mostly quieter all while you arched your back. It was enough of the teasing and humping, you wanted to feel his length in you.
As you attempted to pull his jeans down, Luke pushed them away with a tut. “Not yet, baby.” He grinned, his raspy voice not helping your state.
You whined, instead putting your hands around his neck and pulling Luke closer if that was even possible.
The coil in your lower stomach grew and you moaned, feeling closer by the second. Then he parted from you.
Your eyebrows furrowed at the removal of his hips against yours, your eyes flickered down to his pants where his bulge was still very prominent.
Instead, Luke tugged at your shirt. You could just let out a small nod, still confused and horny when he ripped the shirt off you.
The red lacy bra you wore just for him was finally shown. His eyes widened and sparkled in love and lust, head falling down to the outline of your tits.
Sure you were scared that somebody was going to catch the two of you, especially you with your shirt off. But in the moment, Luke was all you could think about.
Your hands kept going from his biceps to his shoulders then hair, unsure where to put them.
Luke nipped at your skin with a groan, leaving a couple of hickeys on your tits, even pushing away the fabric so he could get closer to your nipple.
Then, his right hand fell down to the front of your clothed cunt, thumb pressing against your clit through your jeans and rubbing in circles.
Your breath hitched then you untensed, feeling looser.
“You’re so beautiful.” Luke muttered mindlessly like he was infected by your beauty, mumbling words into your chest and often gazing into your hands which only seemed to enhance your beauty.
His two hands going in the same circular motion, one on your lower stomach and on your pussy. It ached as he finally touched it, sending jolts of excitement to your brain and delight through your veins.
“So wet, so sweet. Just f’me?” Luke continued, feeling your wetness in your underwear.
You nodded.
“Words.” He ordered.
“All for you, just for you.” You gripped onto your biceps like your life depended on it.
A low chuckle left his mouth as Luke looked up through his eyelashes, his curls slightly damp against his forehead.
“Yes, my sweet girl. All for me.” He mumbled, fingers leaving your clit and inside zipping down your jeans and buttoning them.
“Let me reward you.”
Gods above—
not proofread! (oh hell no) ,, masterlist
happy valentines day my lovelies!!! i would think if you’ve read, your alone as well but its okay cuz we are alone all together <3
taglist: @originalwindutopia
#art
whenever I go on tumblr, it is just to stalk what’s written about Charlie bushnell. this is my life now.
moon song
part ten — the killerverse masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x fem reader 7k
summary: you try your best to move on. it’s made only somewhat easier by the fact that you see luke only three more times before the end of the summer.
content: childhood friends to lovers to whatever they have going on. yearning, heartbreak, and angst of course! they are at the “its so over” point of that one chart unfortunately
notes: i feel like that tik tok audio thats like u cant get rid of me…. im not going nowhere!!! thats literally how i feel abt this series they are a part of me forever. title from the phoebe bridgers song
ONE
You and Luke fall into a steady routine after your breakup—if you can even call it that.
You still can’t tell what parts of this summer were true or made up in your mind. After all, it hadn’t been real, right?
fuck OFF ive been waiting for the betrayal
moon song
part ten — the killerverse masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x fem reader 7k
summary: you try your best to move on. it’s made only somewhat easier by the fact that you see luke only three more times before the end of the summer.
content: childhood friends to lovers to whatever they have going on. yearning, heartbreak, and angst of course! they are at the “its so over” point of that one chart unfortunately
notes: i feel like that tik tok audio thats like u cant get rid of me…. im not going nowhere!!! thats literally how i feel abt this series they are a part of me forever. title from the phoebe bridgers song
ONE
You and Luke fall into a steady routine after your breakup—if you can even call it that.
You still can’t tell what parts of this summer were true or made up in your mind. After all, it hadn’t been real, right?
MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader
warnings: luke is obsessed, mention of bl00d and cuts, sexual fantasies, I guess it'd be food play but it's not, mention of 0ral s3x
₊˚⊹♡
Just imagine Luke having a sick and twisted fixation with your mouth. It's not like he ever had any preferences or felt a certain way about lips or mouth, but the moment he paid close enough attention to yours, he knew he wanted them on him.
He fantasized about it way more than he would've thought was possible. He wanted to feel the plush of your bottom lip with his finger, the plumpness. He craved for the feeling of your tongue against his, to see you drool and whine from all of it. He thought of cupping your jaw as he gently bites down on your bottom lip, pulling so softly it's torture. He wants you to bite him; to feel your teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of his lip. He wants to press your tongue down with his thumb, wants to test the sharpness of your canines against his rough skin.
Shit, that gets him hard.
Sometimes, he doesn't even hear you speak. When you do, his eyes can't help but go down; memorize every moment, every lick of your tongue, every last remain of lip plump that would make them swell. "Sorry, I didn't catch that", he'd say when you're done, and you'd whine and groan. You hated to repeat yourself.
But what really got him bad, was the one time you busted your lip open during capture the flag. Some idiot camper had gotten way too close to you, and the tiny river of crimson that seeped out made Luke's stomach feel heavy. On the right side of your bottom lip, some droplets staining your chin. He masked his expression pretty well, but his throat ran dry when he realized how much the image of your lips dripping with something turned him on. By the time he walked you to the Apollo cabin, your lip swell, and he can't look away. He stayed there with you until you assured him that it was a superficial cut that ambrosia could cure; not a busted eyeball.
He didn't want to see you bleed; he wanted more of a show.
And as cunning and as smartass as he is, he knew which cards to play.
"No way," you said when you saw him, palming your hands against your shorts, "You went strawberry picking?" you ask in surprise as he walks towards you with a full basket.
The strawberry fields were as beautiful as ever, but Luke rarely went there, especially during the day. "Yeah," he shook his head, "Some Demeter kids needed help. Want some?" he asked, picking one up himself, popping it in his mouth, "They're juicy" he said, picking the biggest, reddest, ripe one, bringing it towards your mouth.
You lean in, reaching for the berry. Luke pretends to act uninterested as you bite into the tip and wrap your lips around it. You popped the fruit in your mouth. The sweet taste exploded in your mouth, juice staining your lips and tongue. Watery red droplets rested on your lips; the way you licked the excess was almost pornographic in his eyes. Luke remained silent; you were completely oblivious to the effect you had on him.
"Oh, wow" you simply said, taking the fruit from his fingers, "These are amazing"
Luke nodded, "You bet".
He watched as you took another bite of the strawberry, the red juice tainting your lips a thin red, getting caught in your fingertips. You asked him something about camp duties as you sucked on them, one by one. Luke couldn't form a coherent thought. He watched your lips glistening with sweet strawberry nectar. He shifted, a subtle adjustment of his position, his shorts were constricting, a direct, undeniable response to the captivating display in front of him. Your cheeks barely hollowing at the action. "Let me grab some more" you ask.
Shit, that gets him super hard.
Suddenly, you and Luke ate strawberries under the shadow of a tree once or twice a week.
He liked to watch during lunch, too. He'd walk past and pop a ripe peach next to your plate. You'd whine about chocolate; he'd say fruit is healthier and helps with satiety. Not necessarily bullshit, but... He'd watch from his own seat at his table how you'd struggle to take a bite without the tropical juice dripping down your chin. He'd watch the muscles in your jaw flex as you bit down carefully, the little frown between your brows as you concentrated, the tiny drip of juice that would escape and trace a path past your lip. He'd imagine leaning over and licking it away himself. The thought was so vivid, so potent, it got him being delusional all day.
He'd make you sweat on purpose during his sparring session so you'd crave the water from your bottle so hard, you wouldn't care if it led a trail of liquid down your neck, hiding under your sports bra and your camp t-shirt. From the bob of your throat to your panted breath. After that, he'd spend twenty minutes in the showers, the cold water doing little to dampen the heat erupting from his pores.
Once, during one of camp's worst heated days, he saw you eat a strawberry popsicle. You tried to be careful with it, but failed every time. Just the image of your tongue running along the length of it-, that's a whole other thing. The image of you and that flash of pink was seared into the back of his eyelids. He excused himself claiming a sudden migraine and abandonment of duties for the day.
His cabin was empty during dinner. That night, he thought about pressing your head between his thighs, about that plushy bottom lip sucking him off until he can't see straight. He wants your lips wrapped around something else. He wants to be the cause of that sweet, red mess. He imagined your lips stretched around his cock, drool pooling on your mouth. He wanted to be the one to ruin you, to have you so utterly intoxicated by him.
It was getting pathetic, he knew it. This obsession. But he couldn't stop. Every casual encounter became a new opportunity to watch you, to study the way you spoke, the way you ate, the way you licked your lips when you were nervous or concentrating. Every time you spoke there was a high chance that Luke had touched himself to the thought of you the night before.
"Luke" you called out a little higher.
He blinked, "Yeah, sorry- what?" he'd ask.
"You're staring" you stated, your own cheeks going warm. He shook his head with a sheepish grin.
"Sorry, can you tell me the last part again?"
You groaned to the sky. "So, I was saying-"
He watched you, your words, his signature smirk playing on his lips. He knew there was a chance to have you, sooner or later. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.
you’re so vain (teaser) ft. luke castellan (fem!reader)
RELEASE DATE. TBA
⋮ ⌗ ┆synopsis ⸝⸝⸝ the man you despise is the only one offering more than empty platitudes. while the rest of the court whispers behind their masks and fans, luke castellan might just be your only hope to ensure you survive this season's marriage mart.
⋮ ⌗ ┆taglist ⸝⸝⸝ OPEN .
i cannot wait omg
Luke Castellan and Porch Light, by Noah Kahan
Can you write about Luke who has a tendency to leave marks on you whether it’s a hickey or a handprint just anything to show people your his
Luke acts cool about it at first. Once in the beginning he leaves a hickey that peeks out from the neck of your camp shirt, but it’s little!! A little dark blotch in the shape of his mouth. Tiny, even. When you see it and murmur “aw, man,” Luke looks up casually and feigns surprise. “Oh, my bad. Didn’t realize.” He’s apologetic enough, and you accept and move on easily.
He drops the facade slowly. Leaves marks pretty much every time, and stops pretending to be surprised and apologetic when he sees them. You catch the way his lips quirk up, the smug glint in his eyes when he looks at the proof he left behind. Luke rubs it in when you’re in public, eyes flicking down to the blotches blooming across your skin to wordlessly remind you how obvious they are. To remind you that everyone can see them.
Luke’s not a chill guy. He’s not chill about most things. He’s definitely not chill about you—or about the way the other campers look at you. He looks around and sees a sea of demigods thinking about you the same way he did for so long—turned on by your exertion during war games, when you’re breathless and sweaty, imagining all the ways he could make you look like that for him. Watching your ass in those little shorts. Jerking off to the thought of you in the showers, staying silent so no one else hears except for the mutter of your name through gritted teeth as he cums. Luke thinks everyone wants you the way he does, and he has to show them that he’s the only one that gets you.
You refuse to satisfy him with tales of how your siblings gasped and ooh-ed and aah-ed over every hickey and handprint-shaped bruise, how they prodded you relentlessly for answers on who they were from (which you wouldn’t admit even though you knew damn well they already knew.)
And it’s your fault, too. You feel his mouth latch onto your neck, sucking, teeth nipping against your skin. Luke’s extra aggressive when he’s marking you up, his fingers dig harder into whatever he’s holding onto, your hip or your ass or your throat, like he’s physically grounding himself as he works on you. You’ve never tried to stop him. You don’t think about who’s gonna look tomorrow, or what they’re gonna say. You just think about how fucking good it feels, the way your eyes roll back and your lips fall open uselessly, your body unraveling under his attention without him even needing to be inside you.
There are days when you have to stroll back into your cabin and open with, “he’s not beating me or anything, I swear,” desperately, embarrassed as fuck, because your siblings look horrified. They see the markings from his rough, unyielding mouth on your neck and the insides of your thighs (and on your back, too. He had your face shoved into the pillow. The feeling of him biting down on the back of your neck like a misbehaving kitten he had to discipline mid-stroke made you cum immediately. But the shirt covered that one. Thankfully.) The bruises on your hips from him holding you in place while he took what he wanted. Bruises on your ass in the shape of his hands.
After weeks of whining at him, shoving him when you see fresh marks, telling him to wipe that smirk off his face, he asks you earnestly. Sweetly. “You really don’t like ‘em? They hurt too much?” brushing his fingers across the freshest of the bruises. And you’re victim to the worst fate of all—admitting through Luke-having-to-pull-a-pillow-away-from-your-face levels of humiliation that the proof that he was there long after he’s gone makes you wet. Which he already knew. (Duh.)
rereading this….. this is like the most incharacter kink i have ever read about him oohhhhhhhhhhhh
thinking about captain luke castellan……
Can you write about Luke who has a tendency to leave marks on you whether it’s a hickey or a handprint just anything to show people your his
Luke acts cool about it at first. Once in the beginning he leaves a hickey that peeks out from the neck of your camp shirt, but it’s little!! A little dark blotch in the shape of his mouth. Tiny, even. When you see it and murmur “aw, man,” Luke looks up casually and feigns surprise. “Oh, my bad. Didn’t realize.” He’s apologetic enough, and you accept and move on easily.
He drops the facade slowly. Leaves marks pretty much every time, and stops pretending to be surprised and apologetic when he sees them. You catch the way his lips quirk up, the smug glint in his eyes when he looks at the proof he left behind. Luke rubs it in when you’re in public, eyes flicking down to the blotches blooming across your skin to wordlessly remind you how obvious they are. To remind you that everyone can see them.
Luke’s not a chill guy. He’s not chill about most things. He’s definitely not chill about you—or about the way the other campers look at you. He looks around and sees a sea of demigods thinking about you the same way he did for so long—turned on by your exertion during war games, when you’re breathless and sweaty, imagining all the ways he could make you look like that for him. Watching your ass in those little shorts. Jerking off to the thought of you in the showers, staying silent so no one else hears except for the mutter of your name through gritted teeth as he cums. Luke thinks everyone wants you the way he does, and he has to show them that he’s the only one that gets you.
You refuse to satisfy him with tales of how your siblings gasped and ooh-ed and aah-ed over every hickey and handprint-shaped bruise, how they prodded you relentlessly for answers on who they were from (which you wouldn’t admit even though you knew damn well they already knew.)
And it’s your fault, too. You feel his mouth latch onto your neck, sucking, teeth nipping against your skin. Luke’s extra aggressive when he’s marking you up, his fingers dig harder into whatever he’s holding onto, your hip or your ass or your throat, like he’s physically grounding himself as he works on you. You’ve never tried to stop him. You don’t think about who’s gonna look tomorrow, or what they’re gonna say. You just think about how fucking good it feels, the way your eyes roll back and your lips fall open uselessly, your body unraveling under his attention without him even needing to be inside you.
There are days when you have to stroll back into your cabin and open with, “he’s not beating me or anything, I swear,” desperately, embarrassed as fuck, because your siblings look horrified. They see the markings from his rough, unyielding mouth on your neck and the insides of your thighs (and on your back, too. He had your face shoved into the pillow. The feeling of him biting down on the back of your neck like a misbehaving kitten he had to discipline mid-stroke made you cum immediately. But the shirt covered that one. Thankfully.) The bruises on your hips from him holding you in place while he took what he wanted. Bruises on your ass in the shape of his hands.
After weeks of whining at him, shoving him when you see fresh marks, telling him to wipe that smirk off his face, he asks you earnestly. Sweetly. “You really don’t like ‘em? They hurt too much?” brushing his fingers across the freshest of the bruises. And you’re victim to the worst fate of all—admitting through Luke-having-to-pull-a-pillow-away-from-your-face levels of humiliation that the proof that he was there long after he’s gone makes you wet. Which he already knew. (Duh.)