ৠŚ đ„ Û« hold my hand until we turn to ashes. â đŻ
...IN WHICHâyour boyfriend gets sappy before he falls asleep.
tags/warnings: fem!reader, kissing, cuddling, fluff, talk of marriage, leo being bf material (as usual!), i wrote this and posted it (IDGAF ANYMORE!!!). no proofreading, WE DIE LIKE JASON.
àłauthor notesââ· tumblr iâm gonna kms
â
"leo, please."
"can i not voice my love for my beautiful, gorgeous, wife?"
"wife?"
you repeated, a small snicker leaving your lips as you tilt your head to the side.
leo was resting his head on your chest, this was one of the few ways he found himself comfortable enough to sleep. especially when you played with his hair like this.
one of his curls were wrapped around your finger, something you did every couple minutes of scratching his scalp. a small hum would leave his throat each time you did this.
he always found joy in the smaller things you did for him.
"damn right, 'wife.' i'm gonna give you the best ring olympus has ever seen."
leo muttered, his voice growing quieter as he started to mumble over his words. his hold on you tightened, his arms were meticulously wrapped around your waist.
you giggled as you rubbed his back now, hand moved from his head.
"the best ring, hm?"
"i'll make it myself, that way nobody has the same."
"better start soon."
you teased, a small grin on your face by now. leo's tired mumbling was getting to the point where it was just him audibly day dreaming.
although, it was nice to hear of a glimpse into your future.
"i already have ideas."
"do you, now?"
"iâd be stupid if i didn't. you'd be the bestest and prettiest wife."
he continued to dream out loud, a small sigh leaving his lips. leo always wanted to be loved the way you loved him.
i mean, this type of affection was foreign to him. having someone hold him like he was glass instead of punching him, having someone bicker with him lightly instead of insulting himâit was outer-wordly.
you loved him like how he should be loved.
leo would put the sun in the sky personally for you as long as you continued to be yourself and love him like this.
"and you'd be the best husband."
"ya think?"
"I know. the bestest and prettiest husband ever."
leo held back on giggling like a schoolgirl. you made him feel so special, and that's all he asked for.
the bestest and prettiest husband and wife. that was his prophecy.
ৠŚ đ„ Û« oh he looks so cute, wrapped around my finger! â đŻ
âŠ.IN WHICH: i made a fic based of espresso by sabrina carpenter/luke is WHIPPED.
tags/warnings: toothrotting fluff, luke & reader is mentioned to have exes, âshe was like a shot of espresso,â kinda short, not proofread, not in my usual format.
àłauthor notesââ· sorry for not feeding yall for awhile i been busy aslâ ïžâ ïž!!!! my sister lowkey got hit by a car
âânow heâs thinkinâ about me every night.â
luke tossed and turned in the cabin, clearly getting on the nerves of the younger campers. he couldnât help it, though. luke was never one to be able to sit still when giddy with excitement. y/n l/n was basically the only thing on his mind.
of course she was, she was on everyoneâs mind. luke didnât know what spell she cast on the boys at camp half-blood to make them look at her like olympus lost a god. y/n was like a shot of espresso to luke, she could wake up him at any time of night. just like now.
âjesus, luke. go to bed,â a younger camper complained with a huff. he mumbled a small sorry in response, trying to meditate himself to sleep. heâd felt quiet jealous of hypnosâ kids. maybe thenâheâd be able to sleep.
ââtoo bad your ex donât do it for ya!â
you were better than anyone else heâd ever have. anybody else wouldnât compare, not in the slightest. his other exes seemed almost incompetent with you in his life.
they didnât hold him the way you did, didnât have him wrapped around your pretty fingers like you do. luke looked at the past with sympathy for his past self. ignorance is bliss. ignorance being, obviously, that he didnât have the pleasure to call you his.
he didnât know what youâd put in his coffee to make him love you like you personally paint the sunsets every evening.
luke couldnât imagine himself with anyone else even if he tried. and, truthfully, neither could you. you canât even fathom that you let anyone other than luke wrap their arms around you.
mutual love. but, of course, to him you were everything. his one and only.
ââoh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger!â
âthere goes your wife.â âwait, what? really?â
chris just meant to taunt him. a little bit of teasing between friends. he didnât expect luke to almost get whiplash from how quick he turned his head to even catch a glimpse. the camp counsellor clicked his tongue, lightly shoving chrisâ shoulder.
âthat isnât funny.â âwell, iâm sorry, loverboy.â chris rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. he wanted to tell luke he currently sees you. but he knew heâd be shoved again. so he kept silent, listening to luke rant about his shitty sleep since his mind was racing.
luke felt your lips press against his cheek, a quiet âmwahâ sound being heard. you giggled at seeing his shocked expression, putting a hand on where you kissed. luke got a loopy grin on his face, looking you up and down.
âhi, luke.â âhey, hun,â he greeted, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. he kissed your temple gently, smiling slightly into the kiss.
chris took notice to the fact that lukeâs slumped shoulders looked relaxed, his pinched brows were raised. he acted like he just downed a redbull the second you came around.
"mmm, sweetheart. pussy feels s'good," he murmured as he laid on top of you. but you're too dizzy to respond to him. even if you were, it wouldn't matter. all you can let out is "fuck" and pieces of his name. instinctively, your eyes land on his dog tags dangling over you as he's fucking you. soft, damaged hints of gray with a name you'd yell until your lungs gave out. the name of a man who knew he was the only one who could get that out of you.
"you still with me, pretty girl?" he asks. of course you weren't, though. the only sounds you let out were whimpers and gasps that made his cock twitch every single time. he knows that he's fucked you a little too good when you're all shy with him.
he loves to think about it all the time. just another way for him to remind you that he's the only one who could make you scream like that. after all, it's his proudest achievement. <3
luke castellan who absolutely looks and holds you like itâs the last time.
he observesâno, memorizes each perfection in your face. the colour of your eyes, your nose shape, how your lips slightly pierce together under an awkward situation and how your gaze softens when you look at him. heâs almost got you down to the last molecule.
luke doesnât understand how nobody else can tell when youâre uncomfortable. itâs so obvious by the way your eyes drop in the this-is-too-much-for-me way and not the usual i-got-2-hours-of-sleep way. luke doesnât understand why people still go up to you and ask you to help them when your shoulders are tenseâwhich is the biggest indicator that youâre angry.
annabeth just says itâs because heâs in love, he says itâs just because youâre you. he tries to understand you so you donât have to. luke understands that you like to cuddle this specific way and not the other way.
he sees your eyes shine just before youâre about to fall asleepâas if itâs the final warning to tell you that he loves you more than anything before you fall unconscious. lukeâs tight grip doesnât lessen as your breathing falls into a rhythm, his fingers entangled with yours as he had a hand on your hip and his chin resting at the top of your head.
luke has gotten every inch of you memorized. heâs preparing for the day that it will be his last day looking up at you, his head resting on your lap. heâs making sure heâs ready for you to be his last sightâand heâs making sure he remembers everything. he cannot pass on without memorizing how you try your best to smile to bring him comfort when youâre crying.
âŠIN WHICH! luke feels as if youâre too sweet for his bitter self.
tags/warnings; luke castellan x apollo!reader, teenage dirtbag!luke, mutual yearning for each other, luke being kinda insecure, luke taking readerâs innocence as a bad thing, grape and wine mentioned a lot, my interpretation of âtoo sweet.â
àłauthor notesââ· go listen to too sweet by hozier tmrw. also i threw this up because i fear i might leave for the week next week since itâs spring break and i wanna see my friends
â
you watched as luke walked past you. again.
what you did to deserve such treatment like thisâyouâll never know. you truly did all you could to seem sweet, kind, gentleâloving. but itâs like none of those qualities appealed to him.
itâs like it pushed him away. like you being too sweet was too much for him. you tried to not be overbearing, overly clingy, too sensitive, everything. because you genuinely liked luke.
and you genuinely liking someone was rare. you treated your body like it was sacredâsomething that not even the gods above could touch.
luke seen the disappointment in your eyes as you bit your tongue. heâs doing this for your own good, heâs doing this for your own good. he swears it up and down.
heâs too much of, well, an asshole if weâre being honest. youâre a deity heâd hear about from stories passed down from generation to generation. heâd pray and worship you if you werenât actually in the same camp as him.
luke wants nothing more than to protect you, truly. corrupting a girl like you was the last thing heâd want.
he wants nothing more than to be the guy to hold you, to kiss you, to brush your hair, to be your assistant when your fixing up another broken nose. luke prays to experience such a thing in another life.
his bitterness and your innocence were just something that were never meant to be. and luke took that harder than you did.
you were as soft as rain, as bright as the morning, pretty as a vine and as sweet as a grape. luke would wait forever for you to, inevitably turn bitter. slowly but surely, he believed everyone did. he wished that he could sit you gently on a barrel and wait for you.
but watching you patch up percy with the most careful precision heâd ever seen made him feel different.
like heâd take his whiskey with a chaser instead of neat like luke normally would. heâd throw out his plain black coffee and take whatever iced latte you prefer.
seeing how well you are with kids would make him hear wedding bells. luke pushed the chimes to the back of his head and finally took his eyes off you as he seen a younger aphrodite girl rush up to you, frantic.
ây/n! help me, please! i got a paper cut and itâs bleeding and it hurts! will it scar? be honest!â
you couldnât help but giggle at lottie as she looked like she was on the verge of tears. for a moment, you didnât think about luke. you rushed her into your cabin, under the premise that âyouâll do everything you can to make sure it doesnât scar her pretty finger.â
lottie felt you put a band-aid on her with the utmost gentleness sheâd ever felt. a thumb wiped away the tears that couldnât seem to fall down her cheek.
as you guided her back to her cabin with a smile across the blondâs face, you felt a pair of eyes watching you.
luke wanted to be right there with you, helping lottie, praising you as he kissed your temple. but he stood several meters away with a clenched jaw as his brows in their normal furrowed state.
he knew he couldnât go up to you like he prayed he could. maybe in a few years, months even. if he prayed to you hard enough. if he clenched his hands together harder.
luke castellan would rather hold the 7 realms with his pinkie than ever corrupt what he grew to love about you. even if it meant pushing you away, pushing you to love another, heâs doing it for your own sake.
maybe he would have to forget praying to the gods for a day and be selfish. just this once. heâd pray that the grape he loved so much would turn to wine faster.
things that were too sweet for luke were simply too much.
divine figures â luke castellan + reader : nothing could steer luke off his path to god now, until you came along.Â
tags : southern setting au, small town setting, loser!luke, idolization, christian religious references & imagery, religious inconsistencies, church sex, religious guilt, body worship, sex but poetic, cannibalistic imageryâŠâŠâŠâŠ..
a/n : heavily inspired by the lovely @murdrdocs!!Â
luke castellan was never one to follow a religion, well, not at first he wasnât. he thought it was all bullshit, to put your all into someone nobody is sure even exists, itâs bullshit. but then his mom began insisting that he went, that he needed to find god, they both did, so he went.  Â
luke lacked a father figure, so when he stared up at the statue perched at the apse of the church, he found the man he always lacked in his life, no matter how much the statue ignored his gaze, never bothering to look his way. he was quick to read the bible like it was a drug he just couldnât get enough of, he sat straight with his eyes forward during each sermon, he kept himself pure.Â
and he stuck true to that, until you came.Â
he never really noticed you at first, but you were always there.Â
always looking over your shoulder to his place in the pew, always smiling at him when he accidentally glances your way, always passing by his house on your bike on hot summer days in hopes of seeing him outside, shirtless and working on his motherâs car.Â
you hadnât mustered up the proper courage to speak to him, not until your parents have tugged you over to where he stood with his mother in the nave. your mother and father immediately sparked up conversation with his mother, leaving you to awkwardly look around the church in hopes of finding something worthy of speaking of. nothing, there was nothing. so you just mumbled out a, âhey.âÂ
he hesitates for a second, âhi.âÂ
âdid you like the sermon?â your southern drawl, along with your sugar coated smile, luke can feel the thumping of his heart against his knit sweater.Â
ââcourse,â he smiles shyly, âi always doâ um.. did you?âÂ
you nod at him, your ability to hold eye contact so well had him feeling nervous, constantly breaking it to glance around the room, âare you excited for easter?â
lukeâs lips curve to a brighter smile, one that proves that he hopes that with jesusâ return, there will be a proper savior for him, his prayers will finally be listened to, maybe for once the statue on the wall will glance his way.Â
jesus molded everything about luke, at this point, if he couldnât believe in his father, jesus was going to take that placeâ and he did, luke was taught everything by the bible, all he ever relied on was the words of the lord, everything he ever did was a representation of what lied in those scriptures. he never worshipped another god, never said the lordâs name in vain, always remembered sabbath day, as well as honored his mother and⊠father.Â
he didnât commit adultery, in fact, he never spoke to women, really. his mother kept him sheltered, he was only allowed to speak to the women at church, not any of the women who rode on their bikes past his house, or smiled at him in the library. he just stared at them for a minute and looked away, contemplating how different things would be if he was able to speak to them.Â
at the thought of women, lukeâs mind races back to you, who is currently blinking at him and thinking he didnât hear you. âi am excitedâ for easter, will you be atâ the um.. the church that day?âÂ
another nod, then an awkward silence as you find nothing more to say, and neither does he. the church was a beautiful place, decorated with swirls of gold and dark wood, colorful stained glass windows that painted pictures of jesus, or virgin mary. if luke could move out of his home and live somewhere he genuinely enjoyed, it would be the church.Â
there was something so comforting about it, maybe the faint music that played in the background, or the way it smelled of old books and floral perfumes, or the fact that it was just a place where so many people went to put their faith into someone. god was just so important, if luke didnât know any better, heâd envy him.Â
âyou should come on sabbath days,â you interject his thoughts, leaning in to his vision.Â
he blinks, eyes refocusing on your face, and he awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, âi thought they were for relaxation?âÂ
âand worship,â you correct, and he crystalizes the memory of how each word sounds on your tongue, how it flows out so well, how it makes him swallow.Â
âright, right,â he wets his lips nervously, âiâll justâ ask my mom. mama?âÂ
as soon as he asks his mom, sheâs all smiles at him, nodding and even shaking your hand, thanking you for urging him to go to church more.Â
âiâll see you there,â is the last thing you say to luke that day.Â
Ëââ§ê°á â± à»ê± â§âË
luke would be a liar to say he wasnât riddled with visions of you in the darkest parts of the night, they started from the day you first spoke to him, and never left him since. he hated how much it plagued him, because it tempted him so well. it was like you were eve, offering him, adam, the apple. you reassure him that itâs sweet, that thereâs no harm in taking a bite, and luke is parting his lips, ready to taste it, when he finally wakes up.Â
the heat of the room is beating down on him, even in the cool of the night. his skin is sticky from sweat, and all he can ever think about is you. it should be a crime, really, how much you had consumed his every waking thought. for once, he wasnât thinking of the bible verses he would be reading that day, what prayer he would be saying.Â
luke didnât know one thing about women, but the way you spoke to him, the way you smiled at him, the glints in your eyes, it had him wondering how he could make your face twist up in pleasureâ fuck. he shouldnât be thinking like this, itâs unholy, itâs weird, but heâs already in too deep.Â
heâs already fed the memory of how pink your lips are, how soft they look, they probably feel the same. is it a sin to wonder how well you kiss? would you be all - consuming? or slow, sweet? luke doesnât know why he prefers if youâd be hungry, if youâd bite and nip at him like youâre hungry, like heâs the last supper.Â
his boxers feel tight on his skin, dick twitching in the confines of them. luke hardly knows this feeling well, he wasnât one to allow himself to get hard, nor was he one to properly take care of it. but something about the idea of your teeth clashing against his when you kiss him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste him properlyâ it had his fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his underwear.Â
when his fingertips graze his cock, he immediately shudders, lashes fluttering. every time luke touched himself, it felt like the first time, only now it felt.. better. better because he was thinking of you. luke had never watched porn, he hardly knows what it is, so the idea of what sex would be like is.. a gray area for him.Â
but he works with what his mind is capable of, which is dry humping. the first setting that comes to mind is the church, which leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he goes with it. it comes to vividly, you on his lap, wet patch evident on his jeans from where your hips push down, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. when you moan, he does, when you whimper, he does, when you roll your hips, he does.Â
everything was in sync, and it was all so sinful. masturbation itself wasnât a sin, unless you thought of someone, and for the longest time, luke never thought of anyone, but you were a parasite he couldnât shake, and he honestly wasnât sure if he wanted to.Â
luke wonders how much the priest will judge him when he utters these thoughts, these events in the confessional tomorrow. he has only ever uttered small, pitiful confessions, i didnât help my mom with dinner, i turned in a book to the library late, i forgot to pray. heâs never had to confess anything larger.Â
heat bubbles in lukeâs stomach, itâs pleasant, sweet, but it curls, and curls until itâs suffocating, until his wrist is hurting from the fast pumps of his cock, sweat glistening on his skin, cheeks flushed. he can feel a whine scratching up his throat, in the confines of his mind, something is screaming at him, telling him to stop, but itâs too late, he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears.Â
Ëââ§ê°á â± à»ê± â§âË
when luke comes into the church the next day, itâs a saturday, a sabbath day. typically on these days, he would be spending his time lounging around his house, reading some piece of classical literature that he has hidden from his mother, wishing to keep the inked pictures of statues reeking of desire for one another a secret.Â
but he was here, and so, he prayed.Â
the sun had barely risen over the horizon (courtesy of daylight savings), yet the candles in the church were lit, leaving an orange hue to project around the empty room.Â
luke felt gross, corrupt, unholy.Â
for once, luke feels as though the statue above is glaring down on him, and he tries his best to not shrink into himself under the piercing gaze. he knows. his mouth is dry with each prayer, fingers sweaty around the rosary, but he wouldnât allow himself to falter once more.Â
as soon as he starts his fifth prayer, he hears the creak of the floorboards that he knows all too well, eyes fluttering open so he can look back to see who was there, hoping they hadnât heard his last confessions in his prayers.Â
you. his mind is tugged to a halt, every prayer he had rehearsed on his way to the church, completely forgotten. it was all just.. you. you seared on his skin, burned him until he was nothing but smoke. your gaze softens on him, a stark contrast to jesusâ pointed glares, âi didnât think youâd come.âÂ
his voice is coarse from the nonstop prayers, âof course i would.âÂ
all he can think about is you underneath him, his own skin bitten and scratched, decorated in mulberry and deep pinks, heâs practically salivating at the idea. he wonders if, behind the confines of the church walls, would anyone hear you? would the priests dare to look for whoever is letting out such unholy noises?Â
luke feels frozen the second he comes back to reality, dick hardening underneath the fabric beyond his control, his mind is tearing itself apart before he can even realize youâre speaking to him.Â
ââ wondering if youâd like to sit next to me tomorrow,â you pose, seemingly unaware of the bulge in lukeâs pants that he is desperately trying to naturally cover with his hands. but you knew, you knew the effect you had on him, and he had the same effect on you.Â
is it so cruel to only tease him harder?Â
luke swallows the remaining saliva in his drying mouth, quickly moving to a stand, rosary bringing more attention to his covered crotch, âsure, yesâ um.. i need toâ go.âÂ
before you can even say anything, he is pushing past you, hand moving only to chastly grab your waist for a mere second as he passes, an instinct of trying to keep you stable, but it only makes a heat between your legs grow.Â
desires go both ways, and itâs only a matter of time before they snap.Â
Ëââ§ê°á â± à»ê± â§âË
easter was once lukeâs most anticipated day of the year, but now it was the day of his nightmares. he barely slept last night, kept himself awake with chores, prayers, and reading the bible until it made him sick. he couldnât have another dream, he couldnât let you get to him anymore. he thought it would be easy to avoid you today, but he was cursed with his own mistakes as you sat down next to him in the pew.Â
the worst part wasnât that you sat down next to it, itâs that his mind was riddled with disgusting thoughts as soon as he saw how your dress brushed up your thighs, it was so simple, such a small act, but it just made him think the worst possible things.Â
you bent over the pew, the bottom of your dress tugged up to show your panties, his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on it, crotch pressed to your clothed pussy from behind.Â
luke blinks back with his cheeks hot, noticing the bible in your hands. when he speaks, he doesnât even realize what heâs saying, itâs like heâs possessed, âwhat verse are you reading?âÂ
âluke 22:40,â you say it so simply, a smile barely teasing your lips.Â
on reaching the place,Â
he said to them, âpray that youÂ
will not fall into temptation.âÂ
the saliva on lukeâs tongue is sour, near poisonous, his lips were stained maroon from the skin of the apple. luke 22:40 was the exact line he had been reciting to himself, luke was his name. the serpent was squeezing him tight, his breath felt swiped away from his lungs.Â
luke is quiet for the rest of the evening, even through the sermon, when he should be smiling when everyone else is, clapping when everyone else isâ he is just silent, blank - faced.Â
you canât decipher what heâs feeling until everyone has gone off to eat after the sermon, and heâs tugging you back into the pew once itâs vacant, fingers forming a tight grip around your wrist, âwhy are you doing this?âÂ
heâs out of breath, and no matter how tough he tries to seem, he sounds pathetic, his voice a near whimper, like heâs pleading with you.Â
âdoing what?â you blink up at him, doe eyes making his teeth press together.Â
âyouâre tempting meâ this, this isnât fair, why?â his breath is shaky when he exhales.Â
âiâm not doing anything, luke.âÂ
âyouâre making me thinkâ making me imagine things.. sinful things.âÂ
âwhat exactly are you thinking?â your voice is softer, and the heat of the sun is seeping into the church.Â
âi..â how can he explain himself? every image that he wants to communicate is all too disgusting, a mixture of hunger and desire, it seemed luke wanted you to eat him alive, âyou know what iâm thinking.âÂ
âwhy donât you show it to me?âÂ
absolution;Â
formal release from guilt,Â
obligation, or punishment.Â
or..Â
an ecclesiastical declaration
of forgiveness of sins.
morals trickle down lukeâs back when he kisses you, he knows itâs all wrong, he knows he could just leave it at a kiss, but he didnât want to be haunted with these visions any longer, maybe if he made them a reality, they would just leave. he could be himself again, the picture - perfect religious boy he was always supposed to be. the kiss is small at first, the hesitant movement of lips, the adjusting to the feeling, but it quickly grows into something hungry.Â
luke didnât know how to properly kiss, so he just followed your lead, and soon enough, he was kissing you like a starving man. from tongues clashing, to his hand mindlessly moving to your hip, body pressing against yours, it was everything he saw in the pictures printed in those books he read.Â
when luke falls back into his seat on the pew, you had pulled away from him, admiring how flushed his lips are. when your hand meets his jaw, luke forgets who his god is supposed to be, all he can think about is you, even on the day dedicated to the man he has spent all of his life worshiping.Â
âplease,â itâs barely even audible, only made out by the slight flick of his tongue from the l.Â
âtell me what you want.âÂ
it felt like luke was sitting in the confessional, admitting all of his nastiest desires when his lips part, finally being able to say his thoughts out loud, âcan youâ ride me? or.. if you donât want toâ thatâs okay.â does luke know what riding is? only from the overheard gossip of other men, but he was told it was something he had to try, when he got married, of course.Â
âi want to,â itâs as if you arenât in a church, as if nobody could just walk in and see how youâre moving onto his lap, moving his hands to your ass, letting his desperate fingers tug your dress up. his purity bracelet brushes against your skin when you move to guide his hands to your ass, watching the nervous look in his eyes when he squeezes the flesh.Â
he has no idea what heâs doing, he just wants to please you, to make you feel as good as he made himself feel to the idea of you the other night. maybe, at this point, luke isnât praying to jesus, maybe he never was, because you were always in the back of his mind. no matter how guilty it made him feel, how many times he had squeezed his tear - ridden eyes shut and wished he was different, wished he wasnât so easy to fall for temptation.Â
god is watching, is what his mind tells him, but your eyes tell him to keep going, watching as he moves his hands to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal clinging being so improper for the walls ridden with crosses, but it just felt so right. he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out his dick, the cool air searing his delicate skin, pupils blown wide when they watch your lips slightly part at the sight.Â
 âyouâre so big,â is all you can manage out.Â
lukeâs lips twitch around a small smile, âis that a good thing?âÂ
âif it fits,â you move through a few twists to properly take your panties off, letting them hang off your ankle when you reposition yourself to have your entrance pressing against the tip of his dick, âthen yes.âÂ
lukeâs lips press together as soon as you start sinking down on him, youâre so slow with it itâs almost torturous. the holy water he had dipped his water in and pressed to his skin, was now scorching him with each inch that filled your velvet walls. when you reached the hilt, it was safe to say you felt stuffed, and luke was making more noise than you.Â
whimpers, grunts, he tried to hide them all behind the confines of his lips, but they dug their nails into his throat and crawled their way up until it was impossible for him to hold them back. as soon as you began moving, luke was purely fighting for his life against the own noises leaving him to the point of where he had to sit up, pressing his lips to your neck, he was quick to press his lips against the sensitive areas, biting, suckingâ he wasnât even sure if he was doing it properly, but he was just so desperate.Â
he wanted you to shatter him like fine porcelain, to snap off his glass parts and crush them underneath your fingers with pure ease, to deconstruct every inch of him that he had taken years to build. no matter how empty he would feel in the end, to put himself in your hands, like a lump of clay in the hands of a goddess, he trusted your instincts.Â
âi want you to ruin me,â he mumbles against the flesh of your neck, barely audible.Â
âwhat?â your voice is breathless between moans, walls tightening around his dick with each movement of your hips.Â
he whimpers out a simple, âsorry.âÂ
you didnât forget his words, though, in fact, you let your fingers run through his dark curls, tangling through them until you tugged him back from your neck, just so you can take his place, now the one pressing your lips to his neck. he felt small underneath you, but he didnât hate it, he liked the way that your lips felt on his skin, enough for him to lean his head back to provide you more blank canvas.Â
you painted him in maroons and mulberries, blooming rose petals on his skin, marking him as your own. no matter how much luke knew he would be praying for forgiveness tonight, in this moment, everything heâs ever stood for has fallen off his broad shoulders. his hair is messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, skin peppered with bite marks, deep reds, purples, every color in between and beyond.
ââm gonnaââ lukeâs words come out choked, dick pulsing inside of you, âgonna cumââÂ
lukeâs orgasm hits him hard enough to have tears pooling into his eyes, maybe it was the guilt, or the everlasting pleasure, he wasnât entirely sure, how could he even be? all he could think of was you, now.Â
âdo you still believe in god?â you offer him once youâre off him and heâs putting his belt back on.Â
he stares at you for a second, hesitating, then his lips part, âyes.âÂ
too sweet by hozier songfic where itâs luke thinking heâs too bitter for reader and might corrupt her and vocalizes it but canât help but imagine a life with her like reader loves luke but luke wonât allow himself to love her to protect her iâm fucking feral
