can i be a bother and beg on my hands and knees for some more cowboy luke smut 😭😭🙏🏻
You’re never a bother, nonnie!! No request is ever a bother, of course you can!!
Slowly your fingers undo the buttons on his shirt, one by one making your way down his chest and stomach, revealing the expanse of his chest as he relaxes back into the sofa. His breathing is slow and deep, his head lolled to gaze at your face as you pull his flannel shirt out of his jeans and unbuckle his belt. There’s a kindling fire spreading through his chest, flushing to his cheeks and painting them a rosy pink with every brush of your fingertips that tickle on his abs, tracing over them slowly and trailing up to his chest, your palm lying flat and soothing over the skin - slightly sticky from sweat but warm to the touch as you graze over his perked nipples.
Luke lets out a small hum, a happy sound as he melts into your touch, your lips pressing to his with fervour, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip before lapping against yours with a languid pace that has a sense of sweetness to it. It’s a kiss from passion and love, one that heals him but runs goosebumps down his spine. He bucks his hips when your fingers meet the button of his jeans, undoing them and pulling his fly down, your arm curling around the back of the sofa and threading your fingers in his curls, palming his hardening cock.
“You don’t have to…” He mumbles against your lips despite the groans he breathes out at your touch.
Your stomach flips at the glassiness to his eyes, hooded lids with lips that barely want to leave yours. But there isn’t anything in the world you don’t want more than this, more than Luke enjoying his evening with you and moaning shamelessly.
Hooking your finger under the waistband of his boxers, you pull the elastic back and let it go, hearing the snap against his skin.
“But I want to. I don’t like seeing you tense, peach.” You say quietly, kissing him again on the lips before moving your mouth to his ear, nibbling on the shell, “You deserve a treat too.”
He lifts his hips and tugs his jeans and boxers down enough for you to spit in your hand and pull his cock out, his legs spreading as he sinks back into the cushions, the feeling of your hand wrapping around him pushing a moan from his throat as your lips trail warm kisses down his neck. Broad strokes stir excitement in his stomach, enticement from your hand pumping his dick languidly as your mouth sucks his skin, leaving small bruises over his column. A particularly sharp and abrupt whimper bursts from him when your thumb taps his tip, spreading the beads of pre-cum over the head delicately and awakening his nerves that spark through him. His moans leak from him in small doses, shy moans as if stifling them but as if huffing them out as the pleasure builds with every pump of your hand sliding along him so rhythmically.
“Fuck…” He breathes shakily, tipping his head back, his nails scratching against the sofa cushions as the euphoria washes over him with every tug. The feeling of your lips leaving wet kisses over his jaw and cheek sends an onslaught of adrenaline through him in streams.
“Good with your hands, aren’t you, pretty thing?” He rasps out into the room and heat pools between your legs, panties sticking to your folds as his cock somehow twitches in your palm, his leg bouncing and whines tumbling.
Sweat builds on his hairline, his jaw slacks and he fully indulges the way your hand works on his cock, slightly rotating with broad strokes that gently quicken in pace, his abs tensing as your smile becomes coy, thighs clenching when he whimpers and squirms. It feels incredible, he doesn’t remember the last time you gave him a handjob but something about having his dick touched when he’s in a bad mood ascends him straight into the seventh heaven and erases everything that pissed him off in an instant. He loves it. The motion, the rhythm you do it at, the kisses you leave to his face whenever he makes a pretty sound you like. And he knows how you do this. The more vocal he is, the harder he gets to cum.
“Just doin’ what you like. Love when you look at me like that, so needy and…pathetic.” You coo with a tease laced in your tone, lips moving to press feathery kisses on his collarbone, slipping your fingers from his hair to move his shirt aside before moving them back and tugging at the curls.
“Faster, fuck- feels so good-” he huffs, loose moans floating from him as his chest rises and falls - panting.
Your hand jerks him faster, as he wants, lewd sounds filling his cabin as he feels his desire whirl in his stomach, his thighs tensing as pressure builds in his stomach the more your hand pumps his cock, and lips smother his body in wet kisses with nips and bites. It’s loud. The skin, the kisses, his moans that rumble and groans that increase in volume, the whimpers and whines as he squirms because the stimulation is diabolically riling. His hips falter, thrusting up into your hand to meet your hand, chasing a high your existence alone makes him fall weak to. Because he is weak for you. Your beauty, that way you know is sensitive spots and like now, how his composure’s crumbling and stomach pulling tight with every swift stroke of his cock without room to breathe.
Until he lets out a wanton groan, something he doesn’t do often but the jittery tingles that wrecks him to his core and that pressure releases from his stomach, flushing out as hot, sticky cum spurts from his tip and over his abs and your hand. But you’re enjoying the way his whines stammer out too much to stop pumping him, cum dribbling down and onto his waistband.
“Plea-please, please, angel.” He begs, panting, “Can’t take it.”
And when you milk him dry, his body falls limp into the sofa, hips stuttering when you release his cock. Your finger tilts his chin to look at you, make him watch you lick his cum of your hand, swallowing every drop as his eyes glisten at the sight. His face is burning but he feels his cock twitch at the sight, lips parting and he wets his lips.
“M’not done yet, peach.” You tease, pinching his nipple lightly before standing up.
Standing between his legs, you part them wider and sink to your knees, admiring the sheen of sweat that shines over his skin, his eyes boring into you, following your movements until you’re looking up at him with a smirk and those glassy eyes he loves. He swears under his breath, running his hands through his hair.
Cowboy!Luke after bringing in most of the animals since it started raining and he's in wet jeans and a (now see-through) white shirt and it leads to smut with the sound of rain on the windows (not like rushed smut, raining outside deserves cozy smut). Thanks girl :) (I need to get back into writing these myself tbh)
ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀs ʀᴀɪɴ
[4.3k]
Pairing | Cowboy!Luke Hughes x afab!reader.
Summary | Luke had no idea what effect a sopping white t-shirt had on a woman, but as far as he knew, it was cold. Luckily, y/n knew exactly how to warm him up.
Warnings | 18+ smut, swearing, oral (fem!receiving), hair-pulling (male!receiving), tit sucking, loving protected sex, pet names (angel, baby, doll, peach, pretty baby).
Authors Note | UM…sorry this took months, slow-cooked this and I love my cowboys so so much (feat. Josh Norris). This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes.
She wasn’t sure how Luke expected her to sleep like that. He knew how the rain made her feel - irritable and gloomy - how small shifts in her atmosphere woke her instantly with groggy eyes, how she hated being disturbed once she’d fallen asleep yet there she lay, his side of the bed’s duvet bundled to her nose, waiting for him to walk through the bedroom door under the soft glow of the lamp. It wasn’t new; many times, before, Luke had been summoned to the ranch at midnight, and the reason was that either something needed repairing or the animals needed gathering in because of a storm; it was just part of the lifestyle.
Rain hurled from the heavens to the earth outside, slamming into the windows and as much as it reverberated through her skull and disgruntled her to the core, she couldn’t just bury herself under the pillows. She couldn’t just curl into Luke, let his warmth embrace her, and his hands soothe her back to sleep. She had to listen to his truck, hear him come home, and she couldn’t miss him walking through that door. There wasn’t much of a logical reason why; something in her heart just told her she had to, that she didn’t want to be alone while it was loud. But when the clock hit one-forty-five AM, eyelids fluttered closed, hoping she’d be face to face with his chest the next time they opened.
Luke loved being a cowboy. He loved working on the ranch and loved growing up on it, but ugly never ceased to exist in even the finest things in life, the things that were supposed to make humans happy. He’d already been at the Norris’ from early morning until early evening, manual labour with no one but Josh Norris (the middle son, the Hughes boys' friend), himself and y/n working on repairing the gaping hole in the barn roof, the last thing he wanted was to leave his bed at the stupid hours of the morning because someone didn’t lock the stable’s gate properly. Finding horses with nothing but a torch in pitch black and torrential rain wasn’t how Luke intended to spend his night. But he also didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his father’s irritation either.
His Jeep Comanche’s engine rumbled in the distance, the wheels crushing and crackling against the gravel as he pulled onto the driveway, its lights temporarily glowing past the bedroom curtains before disappearing again. Luke exhaled, his grip on the steering wheel loosening before bracing himself, sliding out the door and jogging to his front door, the rain soaking through his flannel straight to his t-shirt, and jeans uncomfortably soggy as he fumbled with the key.
He raised his eyebrows upon opening the bedroom door a crack, not expecting the lamp to be still switched on, but he slipped in, tiptoeing and closing the door as silently as possible behind him. Unbuckling his belt, he turned slowly, goosebumps running over his skin and down his spine, both layers of shirt sticking to his skin, relieved knowing his hat kept his hair dry (the item hung up by the door downstairs, proudly above his boots placed next to hers).
“Fuck me.” He grumbled quietly, unbuttoning his jeans and flannel shirt, which he didn’t tuck in this time, being in a rush meant ASAP. He peeled the shirt off, one sleeve at a time, stepping into the en suite, wringing it out, and hanging it on the towel rack. When he stepped back in, cheeks flushed, his eyes met hers, tired and blinking at him from the sheets, and he smiled at her messy hair. “Sorry, baby. I’ll be quiet.”
Y/n blinked a few more times, her heart palpitating more than it should have considered how long she and Luke had been together, yet every time she looked at him, she couldn’t help but stare, her stomach releasing that fluttering feeling as if she had just seen him for the first time again. One part of Luke that she adored was how oblivious to his looks he was. Countless times she’d flustered him pink with compliments, and every time he’d shy away unless he was tipsy or experiencing a surge in confidence, then his hiding was replaced with smirks and dirty teasing. But right then, she propped herself up, pushing the sheets to her waist and her eyes losing their sleep the more they raked his figure. White t-shirt melded to his muscles, each ridge, stretching over his pectorals, clinging to his abs, his biceps and all while his unbuttoned, unzipped jeans hung off his hips as he faced her in the doorway, the bathroom light serving as an angelic glow from behind, a blessing.
“Don’t be sorry, damn, like lookin’ at you.” Her lips pulled into a slight smirk, the sleep suddenly washing out of her upon seeing him, the white t-shirt almost transparent, and to say that it was distracting would be an understatement. It was all she could focus on. “How’re the animals? Were they still out in the end?”
Luke didn’t move from the bathroom doorway, deciding that it was better to drip over the tiles than the rug. His thumbs hooked around the waist of his jeans, wiggling them down his thighs as they clung to his legs, screwing his face up and the horrible damp feeling when the cool air hit his skin. He groaned in response to her, pulling one leg out and slamming his hand into the doorframe to steady himself, almost tripping.
“Shit- not all of them, a couple of horses got out, and the stable wasn’t locked properly so Pops won’t let anyone rest until someone confesses.” He replied, voice rumbly given it was just the two of them. He kicked his other leg free, took the jeans, removed the belt, and hung them over the towel rack. “But we know it was Jack. Quinn would never, and we’ve been fixin’ the Norris’ barn roof, so it wasn’t us.”
The words half-blended into the background, her attention locked on his chest. Something about that white t-shirt was almost transparent on him, extenuating his build, his ridges and muscles she watched flex regularly, but the t-shirt. It was fogged glass, a teaser into what was there without actually showing everything and that’s what had her thighs clamping together, pussy leaking into her cotton panties as he raised his arms, hands grabbing the top of the doorframe and he leaned his weight on his arms forward slightly. Whether he did it on purpose or not she never asked as long as he kept doing it.
“Mhm, just glad you’re back.” She hummed, absently, raking over his torso at the wet t-shirt, pulling over his figure, how the fabric raised in the smallest amount to let his stomach peek through.
His face softened, his eyes rounded, and his lips downturned. His stomach dropped. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“Nah, lookin’ at a nice view is all. Of course, I prefer when he’s dry and lying next to me, runnin’ his hands over my-” her smile reassured his pulsing heart enough to trigger his lopsided smile and rosy cheeks again, his eyebrow raising at the comment. She’d tell him a million times how attracted she was to him, and every time he’d still want to hide away, her words flustering and his coherence fumbling in his throat.
Luke shook his head gently, chuckling. “All right, all right, message received. Let me get warm first, s’cold.”
He pushed off the doorframe, fingers taking the hem of his t-shirt, and he peeled it off his skin and over his head, curls bouncing when the clothing finally gave way over his head. He slapped it on the towel rail too, the idea of a warm towel seducing him until y/n’s voice interrupted him. He turned to see the woman with her head lolled into her shoulder and nails picking the stitching of her tank top, eyes peering up at him like a doe’s. His cock twitched, his chest fizzled and something in his stomach tingled at the way her strap cascaded down her shoulder as if inviting him.
“Oorr, you c’mere and let me warm you up, I know a way.” She didn’t mean to bite her bottom lip, but it came on instinct, her voice like an aphrodisiac song he knew well, the song his knees fell weak to every time she sang for him. “And it’ll help us sleep better, I promise.”
He smirked padding out of the bathroom and joining her in the bed, leaning on his forearm and cupping her cheek with the other hand, sliding it down to the back of her nape. Her eyes jumped between his chest and lips, unashamedly enjoying his company again and tracing her finger over the muscles on his shoulder, trailing up his neck and feeding off his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. She laced her fingers in his curls, tugging him closer slowly until breaths fanned across each other’s lips and met in between, the kiss warm and sweet until neither pulled away, Luke’s moan vibrating being the crumble to their composure. She swiped her tongue across his bottom lip, and Luke being her little puppy, opened and found her tongue eagerly, stomach flipping as she pulled him in closer and with a rough grip.
Y/n pulled away with little pants to catch her breath and he recognised the bedroom eyes she flashed at him while she cooed. “Does that sound good? I need you to use your words to answer me, peach.”
His eyes fluttered in arousal when she tugged at his hair again but in the back of his mind, he couldn’t believe how easily he submitted to her with such a small gesture when all he craved was to hear her whine for him, press her into the mattress and be the one leading the way. He was the reason for this switch in her after all.
“Yes ma’am, do I get to-” His cheeks flushed hot, his voice lowering and becoming husky. His hand leaving her nape felt cold, but the warmth recuperated on her hip, his fingers dipping under her tank top and thumb rubbing her skin softly.
She kissed him again before replying. “Of course you do, peach. When have I ever said you can't?”
“-Hey, consent is sexy. C’mere, baby.” Luke chuckled, leaning back in.
He pressed his lips to hers, rough and open-mouthed, licking against her tongue as he ran his hand further up her back, planting his hand between her shoulder blades and hugging their bodies together, humming when she hooked her leg over his hip and brushed her pussy against his cock. She chased his lips as if he was leaving, hands gliding over his shoulders and keeping him in while he tugged her top up. His cold skin soaked in her body heat, her hips grinding against his aiding in that extra flustered state where he felt the hot flush rise in his back and shoulders, his adrenaline fuelled by desire the sloppier their mouths moved with saliva building over their lips.
“So gorgeous, so warm.” He mumbled against her mouth, dipping his head into her neck and trailing hot kisses from her jaw down to her shoulder.
“As much as I love this top, s’in the way.” His nose brushed up her neck, lips meeting hers again when he was met with her faint smile.
“Then take it off, take it all off. Wanna feel you everywhere.” She whispered.
She whispered like an enchantment, and he fell for the trance because the next thing he knew he rolled her onto her back, straddled her hips and his large hands slid her top up and over her chest and head. He tossed the clothing somewhere in the bedroom, too dialled in on his palms gliding over her tits and kneading them gently, squeezing them together and rolling her nipples between his thumb and pointer fingers. Her mewls slipped out shyly, Luke’s gaze peering to watch her close her eyes and sink her head into the pillows before leaning down and taking one tit into his mouth. His tongue swirled until her skin was wet, his lips alternating between sucking the nipple and taking as much of her peak into his mouth as he could before moving to the other, repeating the treatment and chuckling when she bucked her hips up or tried to clamp her thighs together.
He released her tit, peppering kisses down her sternum and stomach, sliding back and letting the way she whimpered his name on repeat the further his lips approached her pussy, inciting a fluttering that rose through her stomach and chest. His fingers hooked under the waistband, his eyes looking at her while he teased barely pulling them down, relishing the wet patch on the gusset and how it stuck to her folds.
“What’s wrong, angel? What’s with the whinin’?” He smirked, giving her clit a small but long kiss through the cotton.
“Please, Lu. Take ‘em off, fuck, your tongue feels so good. Need you so bad.” She begged breathily, her hands gripping the wooden headboard above her while she squirmed, legs trapped under Luke’s body as he wanted.
He loved seeing her like this, begging for him, desperate. It was a side only he knew about and only he got to experience, it meant the guys could tease him all they wanted about being her lost little puppy because behind closed doors the attention and praise were exhilarating.
Luke hooked his fingers under the waistband, pulling her panties down her hips so delicately the fabric brushing against her skin tickled. He sat back on his knees, sliding her panties down her legs and dropping them to the floor before smoothing his hands over her calves, kissing her ankle and spreading them over his shoulders. He sank onto his stomach, his wide and wet eyes flushing warmth to her face as his breath fanned tauntingly over her clit, more so with how his large hands kneaded at her thighs and held them firm, trapping her to squirm on the mattress.
“Such a pretty pussy,” His lips pressed a soft kiss to her clit and nuzzled between her thighs. Feeling him smile into it, she let out quiet gasps upon the contact, but her body melted into the bed after accustoming to his warmth. “So wet f’me too, really did enjoy the view, huh?”
He swiped his tongue through her folds, taking his time and in no hurry to lap up her arousal while her breath hitched, and her throat let mewls dominate the sound of the rain outside. He licked again, making sure to flick his tongue over her pulsing clit before smothering the inside of her thighs with open-mouth kisses, biting and sucking pink blossoms into the skin before burying his mouth back into her cunt. Luke knew her pussy well enough to have an auto-pilot, enough to know that wrapping his lips around her clit and suckling made her hand thread through his curls and lace her fingers in the strands, keeping his head in position while her whimpers staggered - heavier as the vibrations of his moans rattled through her nerves and her body, feeling the arousal in her stomach as it tingled.
Y/n’s other hand released the bedframe, grasping at the bedsheets and she screwed her eyes shut, jaw unhinging as he delved his tongue through her cunt again, the pace gradually becoming keen, starved, he was unbothered by the mess on his chin as long as he could keep lapping against her folds and dipping his tongue inside her.
He surfaced for a breath, peering through his eyelashes with a lop-sided smile, mouth glistening and the sight alone had her buck her hips up. He chuckled, hands moving to her hips and holding firm. “Taste so good, doll. Gonna be a pretty baby and be loud f’me? Hm?”
“Yes, Lu. Please, stop talking.” She whined, throwing her head back into the pillows.
“Yes ma’am.” His voice rumbled, lower than before but his mouthwork was just as hungry as before.
The words were finally processed and she let a loud moan slip from her. So much time needed to keep quiet, and she forgot it was just she and Luke in his cabin now, she could make as much noise as she wanted, just as Luke had always dreamed (in his words). Her pants of quiet mewls elongated to deep and wanton moans from her chest, indulging in the pleasure and fog in her mind where adrenaline from his tongue bullying her cunt jolted her hips to buck and toes to curl. His nose bumped her clit repeatedly, knowing the stimulation heightened her sensitivity and her hand shot to his, pulling it from her hip up to her tit, humming at his palm groping and fingers rolling and pinching her nipple while her stomach tensed and inched closer to her climax.
“Lu! I’m gonna-” she wailed but her eyes shot open feeling his head leave her thighs, her legs dropping from his shoulders to his hips and getting a glance of Luke wiping his lips with his fingers and taking them into his mouth, licking up the last of it.
“Nah,” He teased but her pussy ached, smoothing his hands over her stomach and thighs, a silent gesture that exuded adoration for her body and every curve and dip, her bone structure and blemishes.
Luke always expressed his love vocally, little whispers into her ears and skin, between giggles and yelling it across the cabin but he knew words only carried so much and so his handsy nature held a weight to them - touching her was just as loud as screaming a confession across the fields.
He crawled over her, using one hand to support himself while his other reached for his nightstand, pulling the drawer open and rummaging for a condom. She trailed her fingers over his chest above her, following the ridges of his abs and rolling the tips over his nipples, her grin stretching from ear to ear as his chuckle rumbled. Luke pulled a square out and sat on his knees, yearning for her touch again but removing his boxers, his pre-cum shimmering on his tip and he tore the packet open, rolling the condom on. Y/n licked her lips in awe, she’d seen him before, but every time felt like the first when he looked at her as if she’d hung out the stars. When he’d handle her so softly like she was precious diamonds. She held out her hands, beckoning him towards her, hands sliding up his arms and over his shoulders when he leant over her, lips parting and gasping as he slid his cock into her cunt with a careful and considerate precision that let her walls caress every detail of him until he filled her capacity.
“Fuck, you’re so big, and all mine.” She breathed, fingers threading in the curls on his nape. She wrapped her thighs around his hips, hooking her ankles together and felt her cunt palpitate and ache at how he still stretched her out. “Move. Please, need you, peach.”
Luke dipped his face into her neck, dousing her skin with slow, wet kisses starting at her jaw and trailing sensually down to the crook of her neck, each kiss pressed for a few seconds with fervour as his lashes tickled over the skin. His arms supported his weight on either side of her and began to thrust slowly, drawing back and forth with sensations that sated his mind and made his energy rejuvenate, groaning into her neck and joining her whines. Each moan matched the pace of his hips, until the way she squeezed around him fed him insatiably, his rhythm speeding up to jolt her body along the mattress and tits to bounce and brush against his chest.
“Always feels so good. C’mon, pretty baby, lemme hear you.” He pressed hot and wet kisses to her neck, awakening all the right nerves that electrified the desire coursing through her.
The sounds of sex increased with his thrusting, the rain outside overcome with the ‘plap’ ‘plap’ ‘plap’ rhythm of his cock sinking into her needy cunt, the whines involuntary and raw that gave Luke some sort of motivation to babble words of affection and absorb the way her face contorted. She was already close to her release from his mouth, stomach tense along with her thighs, but his dick driving with the spirit and manner of a man fucking her for love over lust, to feel good and to be close had her teetering on the edge.
“Luke.” She moaned airily, next to his ear and his mind blanked. “Right there, keep going right there.”
Skin to skin, alone and relishing her moans and mewls echoing around the room, he pulled away and kissed her. He kissed her hard but with passion, tongues lapping while his hands - one by one - pulled her hands off his shoulders, laced his fingers with hers and pressed them into the pillows above her head.
Y/n whimpered into his mouth. “Wanna feel you.”
“You are, angel. Can feel you so fucking much right now, so warm, so soft and so tight, all f’me.” His lips brushed over hers, picking up his pace feeling his abs tense, his desire warming in his stomach and twisting, desperate for stimulation.
He rested his forehead against hers, the intimacy of holding hands somehow subsiding the lewd act itself, turning something stirred from lust into love. In which, together, their strings of swears and ‘I love yous’ tangled in between groans and moans, sweat prickling over their skin and dribbling down Luke’s spine and hair clinging to faces.
When she’d suggested the idea, he hadn’t doubted it, but he hadn’t expected sex to be her answer to his chilliness - not that he was complaining, his cock felt snug thrusting into her, embraced by gummy walls and seeing with the way her eyes fluttered as she was close.
“Lu, m’gonna cum, baby.” She sighed, arching her back into him, elation ascending her into a floaty feeling where her head blanked into a white, thighs trembling around Luke’s waist.
“Shit, doll. So pretty when you’re a mess,” His hips stuttered, and ruts became more erratic and sloppier. The spent and limp tone in her voice was his final thread of composure, the ecstasy from watching her unravel beneath him a sight to remember but he fucked her harder. “Let go, I got you. You’re doing so well, my good girl.”
“Wanna see you…when you…oh!” She tipped her head back, a wanton moan tearing through her as relief consumed her at last, her eyes closing and body falling limp with spasming thighs and feeling him thrust through the release, ringing around his base.
Her pants heaved, eyes opening but still half-lidded and weakly smiling at Luke tuck his head into his chin, half watching himself disappear with cum lubricating his cock and half hiding away. “Wanna see you when you cum.”
Luke tentatively lifted his head, his puppy-like gaze making her heart swell and his eyebrows pulled together - a pathetic look but one that had her squeezing his hands.
His final thread snapped, the pleasure overriding and he let out a heavy groan with trembling legs, cheeks flushed as he spilled into the condom. She basked in how pretty he was, how sappy and soft his features fell when he came.
“So pretty when you cum, Lu.” She cooed, releasing their hands and cupping his cheeks, wiping the tears welling in his eyes.
He lowered himself gently, an arm at a time and nuzzled his face into her neck, muscles relaxing when her arms wound around his back and hands soothed over the muscles. They lie in silence, listening to the rain outside, breathing slowly. Even with actions of comfort, the little caressing of hands and thumbs over supple skins still aroused the faintest of butterflies in their stomachs and chests. Luke’s tiny and sleepy kisses along her shoulder and collarbone drew lazy giggles until with a burst of energy, they morphed into playful and sloppy, pushing himself back up and peppering her face with them. He pulled out, standing off the bed and sorted himself out, entering the bathroom as she watched the condom fall into the bin.
He returned with a warm, wet, cloth and held her thighs delicately, dabbing away and cleaning up every drop of release until briefly planting a kiss on her thigh before returning to the bathroom.
He rounded the bed again, settling next to y/n and tracing his fingers over her stomach absentmindedly. “You okay?”
“I’m okay, you warm now?” She smiled, patting her chest.
Luke chuckled and turned the bedside lamp off before sliding onto her chest, his ear resting on her tit while he pulled the sheets over them, eventually cupping her tit and snuggling. She stroked his hair, feeling him melt into her and exhale in tranquillity. Luke made even the stormiest of nights feel calm, and being tangled up with him, at last, was the best aftercare she could have asked for with him. She couldn’t fall asleep immediately as he could but holding him skin to skin made the noise outside tune out in some unexplainable way like it were just the two of them. It took her a while to realise that it was, in Luke’s cabin not far from his brothers and his parents but still, his own space he could call home and, on several instances, he had called it their home - yeah, their home, that sounded right.
nhl wags | @bunbunbl0gs @bewaryofpity @wineauntie @tiredallthetimex @idiotsnake @alexxavicry @definitelynotdomanique @alex-wotton
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cowboy!luke who would get into bar fights for you, i simply can’t see that man letting anyone think they stand a chance of getting with you. i think itd be about the only time he gets violent and jealous in an ugly way. definitely shows you who you belong to in his truck otw home🙈🐒
Your hands grasp at his back, trying to find a grip and leaving red streaks along the skin, the windows steamed and Luke’s hips snap with every movement, his cock splitting you in half as his grunts fit snugly with the moans that burst from your chest. It’s another time you’re grateful he has a bench seat rather than the individual two because riding him wouldn’t have felt as euphoric, as dizzying as being laid down and pinned under his body, legs hooked around his hips and being fucked into in some hidden viewing spot on the way home, the Comanche rocking with every buck into your weeping pussy. You’ve reached the point where your jaw feels slack and the words jumble in your throat, his hot breath fanning over your neck with his brutal pace, your stomach in a tightly wound knot waiting to snap as the energy in you depletes and your eyes become heavy and flutter back.
“Luke!” you wail, tears dribbling down your cheeks as he thrusts, “Luke!” another hard thrust, “Fuck!”
Your body rocks with his ruts, tits bouncing and a tingling sensation spread through your body again when his lips meet your neck, tongue licking over the column and sucking the skin in the sweet spot, the spot he knows pulls a high-pitched and pathetic whimper from you. And it does, it slips through loudly and your fingers grip his hair, pulling harshly as his deep moan vibrates tantalisingly.
“S’right, doll, who’s fuckin’ you good?” He mumbles, his voice rumbling through your ear and to your bones and your clit throbs more with every word that leaves his mouth, “Putting his hands on my angel, who does he think he is?”
It wasn’t your fault, and Luke isn’t punishing you for it. The guy approached you at the bar while you wore Luke’s hat, his hand sliding across your lower back to your waist, pulling himself close to your side and no matter how many times you rejected him, he insisted. Luke was polite at first but when he turned for two seconds to greet the Dukes, the guy had removed his hat and to Luke, that crossed a line. A rare sight and a rare occurrence for Luke, the lot of it ended with Brock throwing the guy out and you dragging Luke to his truck - where he ranted until your hand met his thigh and told him to pull over.
His cock burrows inside you, the tip kissing the back of your cervix with every thrust in and your walls suctioning him every time he drags back again. You’re tight, and warm, and he doesn’t want to stop this carnal feeling he’s chasing, coaxed by the raw moans that spill from you and your need to cum over him.
“Oh, Lu!” you whine with tears falling, your toes curling tight, “Oh my God, s’close.”
The pace in which he thrusts becomes sloppier, his groans - husky and rough - falling shamelessly from his throat as he grips the top of the seat to steady himself, giving him stability to slam his hips harder into you.
“Mhm, good girl. Don’t hold it, doll, you’re doin’ so good, takin’ me. All mine.” His lips brush against your cheek before placing a kiss, his last sweet gesture before his thrusts drill into you at a vehement pace with carnal greed, chasing his high while the tight pressure in your stomach pulls, and pulls until it flushes out of you, your jaw slacking to cry a wanton moan and a white noise rings through your ears.
Luke’s not far behind, fucking you through your orgasm and listening to the wet sounds fill his truck, his final thrust in being hard as hot, thick ropes spill inside you, your grip around him releasing and your body falling limp against the seat. He pants with you, his arm trembling trying to keep himself from collapsing on top, admiring silently the way your chest rises, how even fucked out, you’re beautiful. He takes his time with pulling out, rummaging through his glove box for any baby wipes or tissues and using them to clean you up gently before sitting upright, pulling you with him to straddle his lap, your skin sticking together as you tuck your head onto his shoulder.
His hands caressing over your waist and back is delicate, comforting. His voice soft as he speaks with a rumble, “M’sorry for the bar…won’t happen again.”
With care, your hand cups his purpling cheekbone. You’ve had to look at the bruise all night and deep down your blood boils that someone laid a hand on him, but he’s still pretty. He’s still Luke who needs his kisses, who cherishes cuddles, who slow dances with you at family gatherings in the kitchen, even if it means his friends will tease him for days. He’s still your sweetheart.
“Thank you, m’glad you’re all right.” Your lips against his neck feels replenishing, your voice his favourite campfire song, “I love you, peach. No one could change that.”
this is so cowboy/blue collar!luke looking at you across the room at a holiday get together.
You’re the only person in the room to him, a spotlight above you at all times where you glisten with little stars. You’re standing with your friends, in the Hughes family home where only Jim and Ellen live now, the boys in their own cabins not far from but they visit regularly. But it’s a gathering of friends and family and yet to Luke, you’re the only person in the room. He knows he can’t glue himself to you all night, his mother told him not to but he’s struggling when your jeans hug you so well and when you’re wearing the top he bought you (the one where the neckline was just low enough for your ‘L’ necklace to shimmer). His hands almost tremble with excitement and a need to sit on your waist again, wetting his lips more often than he should, scanning your figure more often than he should.
He perches on a barstool, the dining chairs occupied, Timo and Dylan’s voices blurred in the background as his finger pings the tab on his can. His chest is warm, and his lips turn upwards, completely zoned in on your laugh. But his trance slowly breaks, hearing his name called once, then twice, and a third until the room bursts into noise again - multiple voices, music, laughter - all at once, and he snaps his head towards his friends, eyes wide.
“Rusty!” Timo calls, Luke blinks, clueless, “How’s that sound?”
“Huh?” Luke asks, eyes jumping between Timo and Dylan next to him, cheeks flushing at their growing grins. He regrets that, he should’ve agreed.
Dylan leans forward, nudging Timo and giggling, “Told you he wasn’t listening, too busy droolin’ over his sweetheart, such a softie'.”
“At least y/n’s real.” Timo mumbles. Luke chuckles, the jab being a silent appreciation towards Timo. Dylan’s mouth drops, his laugh chiming in with theirs as he sits up straight. Luke’s chest rumbles and he catches you looking over at him from across the room, something about the gesture makes his stomach fuzzy.
Dylan protests, as if he’s offended but honestly, he’s not, it was the wit that he liked about Luke. “My lil’ lady is real, she just can’t make it. Hughesy, tell him she’s real.”
“Can’t hear you, droolin’ over my angel, bein’ a softie.” He turns his head back to you but you’re already making your way over with a spring in your step, a grin pulled across your lips and your arms reaching out to him. “Speakin’ of angels.”
You bundle over, Luke’s arm reaches towards you instinctively, his cheeks aching with a smile. He puts his can on the table and adjusts his hat up, your fingers jolting sparks to his chest, the giddy sensation embracing him just as your hands do around his bicep. Over the chatter, he just about hears the faint tune of Ty Myers’ Firefly playing from the speakers and he knows what you’re coming to him for before you even speak because he would have come to you if you hadn’t.
“Lu, this is our song! Dance with me!” You’re not asking him, you’re urging him, tugging on his bicep with your best bug-eyes. What you don’t know is that you don’t have to use them on him, he’ll give in just because you asked him, whatever his angel wants, his angel gets.
He doesn’t look at his friends or anyone. He slips off the stool, takes his hat off and leaves where he sat. Your hands slide down his arm to his hand, fingers tangling with yours and a yearning in his chest, feeling as if flowers are blooming and joy is spreading through his veins.
“Yes ma’am.” He says, letting you guide him into the kitchen with an empty space for you.
You spin around to face him, arm raising for your hand to lay flat on his pec, his winding around your waist to place his palm on your lower back, pressing you into his chest and both your hands meeting each other’s, his larger palm cupping yours as you sway in tune. To you, there’s no one else in that room anymore, just you and Luke in your own bubble where the only sounds that can be heard are the music and each other’s gentle breathing. Your heads almost tuck into each other, his nose resting against your hair while your ear lays flat on his other pec, your souls intertwining and soaking in the song you claimed back when you were just friends. It feels warm, wrapped in each other like this. It feels right, domestic. Even in a room of people, he’ll happily slow dance with you and it’s one of the loudest ways he tells you how much he loves you.
heyyy, omg this is my first time using this thing so i hope i do it right!!! don’t know if your requests are open but i had this vision that came to me in DREAM and i just HAVE to share it.
so. Cowboy!Luke, okay? BUT. reader riding cowboy!luke and yk maybe they are both a little tipsy or reader is just that fun, so, she takes his hat from him and uses while riding him- OMG WHO SAID THAT??? but i literally can’t stop thinking about it HEEEELLPPP, i just know he would go feral
OKIIIII HOPE IM NOT THAT CRAZY BYEEE 🧡🧡🧡🧡
You’re doing it right, dw nonnie!! It’s your first time?? Omg welcome to the ask box!! You’re all good, my blurbs are open so I am so indulging in your dream bc holy fuck girl that’s hot.
You’re not sure how you made it back to Luke’s cabin let alone the events leading to his bedroom. He has a thing about leaving hats hung up in the entrance way but tonight’s the exception. He doesn’t want to remind you, he doesn’t want to hang it up himself, he wants it exactly where it is right now, on your head as your hips roll, his cock nestled inside you. It’s ten times hotter when intoxicated. You’re twice as beautiful, his hat - slightly too big - looking perfect as your tits bounce with every roll, your walls squeezing him snugly as sweat drips down his neck, his head bumping his headboard as his hands sit and knead at your hips. It’s not often drinking leads to fucking, but this feels exhilarating, head free from any thoughts or insecurities as his moans stutter with every plunge on his cock, your giggles floating with whimpers sneaking in-between - it’s pure ecstasy, a high you never want to come down from. And Luke’s never looked better, his cheeks flushed pink, curls sticking to his forehead as a sheen of sweat coats his skin, his abs tensing and thumbs caressing over your hipbones as his pouty lips never meet with the lewd sounds he whines as the pleasure rips through him.
“Fuck, angel,” he groans, the corners of his lips pointing up, voice raspy, “m’the luckiest motherfucker alive.”
A smirk crawls onto your face, titling his hat back off your forehead to reveal your eyes more, his hazy gaze finding yours as his hands lazily roam your body just to land on your tits, palming and rolling the perked nipples with his thumbs. Your stomach flutters violently, clit pulsing with greed the more his cock fills you and drags against your walls, arousal leaking and letting him slide so effortlessly in your cunt that you have a dire hunger for more.
Your rhythm feels heavenly, hitting the right spots for both of you, his whines tumbling and he doesn’t try to compose himself for you, not like this. His hairs stand on end as your hands soothe over the expanse of his chest, tracing over the definition of his pectorals and collarbones, back down his chest and fingertips rolling over his nipples, pinching and squeezing as the pleasure ripples through him in waves. So much so his hands release your tits and latch onto your waist, his head lolling slightly sideways as his gaze is hazy and pathetic, words caught in his throat as all his nerves become stimulated at once, only his neck free from you.
“Oh, yeah, like that, keep doin’ that, dollface.” He breathes out finally, a long groan following as his jaw slacks and stomach pulls, his cock pulsing with every wind and roll of your hips, “Don’t stop, oh fuck-”
The state of euphoria he’s in is unbeatable. The way his cock manages to satisfy you effortlessly has no bounds when it comes to bone-shattering ecstasy released through your system. No matter how tired or sweaty you’re becoming, riding him is addicting. Your hands glide to his shoulders, massaging the muscles before cupping his jaw, forcing him to look straight into your eyes as your short and sharp moans make his heart skip beats. He wishes he could just flip you over and drill his cock into you hard, but he’s limp and a weak man.
“Don’t plan on it, cowboy.” You pant, tilting the hat back again, “Like I’d wanna stop when you make such sexy noises.”
You lean in and capture his lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss where teeth chatter and tongues lunge into one another. One arm winds around his shoulders and pulls him forwards to sit up, chests pressing together as you ride him more eagerly, his arms wrapping around you tight and kissing you back with a matched gluttony for a warm, tightening sensation in your stomachs that only tug the more you can’t pry your hands off each other’s bodies. Just because you’re kissing him doesn’t mean he’s quiet, he whines and whimpers as your fingers thread through his curls, lips moving together in a rhythm where saliva builds in the corners of your mouths - all while the wet sounds of sex bounce off the walls.
He pulls back, panting heavily but nose still brushing against yours, “So, you think I’m sexy?”
A coy smirk crawls on your face.
“Ain’t it obvious?” Your hands slip from his hair and plant on his chest, pushing him back into the pillows and he lets you do it, his hold around your waist releasing and grabbing your thighs instead, his eyes still admiring your art of seduction. One of your hands teases his abs, tracing over the lines and ridges until planting flat while your other holds his hat on your head as you begin to bounce on his cock, the drag through your warm walls a brutal torment to your feelings and sinking back down swiftly just as arousing. “Oh God, Lu, feels so good.”
His tip hits your cervix with every slam back down inside you, your giggles tangling with his writhing whines creating nothing but a pure and addicting state of euphoria, as if your body is light and ascending into the clouds and Luke’s not far behind you. His hips stutter, chest heaves and toes curl, the pleasure destroying him entirely, but he refuses to close his eyes, he can’t keep his eyes off you.
You sink down on his dick, but you can’t push yourself back up, not because your thighs burn but because Luke’s hands have a rough grasp on your hips again, keeping your cunt full with him as he moans aloud. Your body catches up with you and there’s a sudden twist in your stomach, one that teeters on the edge of paradise, but your body has too much electricity running to stop now. His hands guide you, your hips rolling once again and he pulls himself to press against you close, grunting into your neck and his noises soak into your skin and rejuvenate you.
“Damn right, I feel good. But nothin’- fuck!- nothin’ compared to you.” He rasps, eyes giving in and squeezing shut, hot ropes spilling into the condom and muscles relaxing into you, but his mewling can’t stop.
He’s done, yet you’re not. Although you’re on the brink of finishing, that doesn’t mean you want to stop, not when he’s clinging onto you for dear life and crumbling right before you. He’s just too cute. And he knows, he knows you’ll milk him until he’s empty and when his hands glide up your back and lips trail wet kisses with teeth nipping at the skin, you know that he’s just fine with that.
meg you got me thinking hard about cowboy luke i just am stuck on luke who comes pushing through your front door with a basket of tomatoes or something from his garden, all smiley and happy. "here you go darlin'." but you just look so pretty in your little dress and an apron around your waist telling him how the cookies are gonna be done soon and to sit!! he really can't help it, the second those cookies are out of that oven he's gonna push you over the corner and apologize so much "i just can't help it, look too good. did ya dress all nice cause ya knew i was comin'? course ya did."
brb daydreaming over here
Luke always hates Dylan for giving him comically large baskets of vegetables when he goes to pick them up, but he knows it’s because you always request them but still, does it have to be the size of a baby carrier? Half the time he finds himself figuring out how to get it through your door, but he’s mastered that now, opting to unlock and push it open with his back, following the swing in and kicking it close behind him. He knows your rules; boots off at the door, hat hung on a hook, and he follows them automatically.
“Hey, angel, s’me! Brought those fresh vegetables from the Duke’s, as promised.” He calls out, following the smell of fresh cookies down the hall (passing the photo frames of family, friends, and you both) and into the kitchen.
He pauses though, dead in his tracks in the doorway. His face dropping and eyes widening, watching you slide a tray of cookies out of the oven, close the oven door, and stand up straight, placing the tray onto the hob to cool, but he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing. It’s a rare occurrence, he’s never seen it with his own two eyes, only photos but here you are, standing not far from him in a short, summery dress with a little apron around your waist.
“What?” You ask, looking at him and blinking.
“You’re wearing a dress…” He says, quietly and placing the basket on the counter, slowly stepping closer to you with one eyebrow raised and voice thick with confusion. “You never wear dresses. Did I forget somethin’?”
Removing the oven gloves and placing them aside, you loop your arms around his waist, pulling him closer into you and watching his face soften again. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing soothingly as his lips perk into a grin. His pupils are blown, and his curls seem to never fall flat after being under a hat all day.
“Just felt like dressin’ pretty for you. Now sit, the cookies are almost done.” Your small and weak attempts to push him to the dining table seem to work, Luke letting you guide him backwards and releasing him to pick up the basket, twirling around to taking it to the sink. “Thank you, peach.”
Making it to the sink, you don’t even get as far as sifting through the vegetables in the basket before you’re spun around, large hands firm on your hips, tight and your lower back hits the wooden counter.
“Lu?”
His chest is directly in front of your eyes, and you slowly look up at him. He’s got this lovesick and dopey look on his face, licking his lips while his eyes jump between your eyes and mouth. Your chest tightens and throat pulses, a heat flushing to your face and you should be used to this by now, but it’s hard to become used to someone who makes you feel everything at once - nervous, excited, aroused. He has this glint in his eyes that you know means he’s thinking about something, especially when his hands run along your waist and hips press into yours.
He leans down slightly, enough to press a kiss to your lips and brush his nose across your cheek, goosebumps prickling over the back of your neck and this electric sensation in your body, until his mouth is close to your ear with his breath fanning your skin.
“Can’t help it, look too good. S’like you knew I was comin’ today, that why you’re all dolled up real cute?” he teases, voice low and rumbly, hands travelling low until you feel his fingers on your thighs, dipping under the dress and drawing feathery, circular patterns over your skin. The fluttering in your stomach restricts your words and coherency, breathing hitching at just a touch and voice, the effect he has on you is diabolical and the only thing making you feel better is the pink in his cheeks. “’Course it is, ain’t I right?”
Fingertips trace up his stomach, tracing the plaid pattern and to his chest, your hands flat over his pecs as his hands trail further up the skirt. Eyes wide and doe-like peering up at him, lips slightly parted and he’s smirking, cocking an eyebrow at your inability to get the words out, not that you need to, he can read you like a book. He leans to kiss you again, but you lean away, moving one hand off his chest and reaching behind you.
“Annoyingly right. But thank you for coming, need someone to taste test my cookies.” You giggle, the words finding you again and flowing out, pinching a cookie between your fingers, shoving it between your mouths, and pressing it to his lips.
His eyes widen in surprise, and he jolts back. He takes the baked goods between his teeth and bites, humming in delight, standing up straight and you feel the skirt of your dress fall again, Luke’s hand taking hold of the cookie and his other slotting back on your hip. You’ve always been full of surprises, from wearing a pretty dress that he had no idea you owned to reeling him in to shove a cookie in his mouth. But they’re surprises that keep him on his toes and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Authors Note | Cowboy!Luke headcanons for my Homegrown AU. If they seem familiar, these were sent, by me, to @/wnderify.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who got the nickname ‘Wrangler’ due to his skill that neither of his brothers can match. Whenever they’re talking about Luke and his wrangling on the ranch, it’s always the same compliment: that he’s got a way with horses.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who brings you wildflowers whenever he’s out and about. Quinn’s always told him that flowers are a sweet gesture, and so Luke takes it seriously with you. His little bouquet’s aren’t as extravagant, they’re dainty but he takes time to carefully choose.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who only dances with you, forever taking you by the waist when he greets you. He’s a goofy dancer, twirling and dipping you just to smother your face and neck with kisses, sometimes singing the lyrics without a care if he’s a good singer or not. If you’re at a bar, he’s a little shy at first, but the more he’s in your company, the more likely he’s to dance happily with you until you’re both stumbling into a corner and sharing long, passionate kisses.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who always says 'Yes ma'am' affectionally, usually with his notorious smirk. At first, you think he’s being polite, but when he starts smirking as he says it, you know he’s enjoying it, especially if you’re taking charge of a situation or straight up bossing him around (which he also loves). He’s so smitten for you, eyes locked on the way your lips move, or even your own eyes. In those moments when you’re annoyed at him, the words rolling off his tongue make it impossible for you to hold the irritation.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who has your photo and a love note you wrote tucked in the inside brim of his hat. A hat’s very important to a man and it only makes sense he keeps you tucked in there as well, he thinks of it as bringing you everywhere with him. While he hates other’s taking his hat or other’s wearing it, he only puts his hat on your head because he thinks it's cute, especially since it's slightly too big for you. He jokes about you being his hat stand (and arm rest) just to get a rise out of you.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who also enjoys watching rodeos with you and watching the light in your eyes when you cheer, feeling how you clutch his hand every now and then. One of his favourite parts is being able to walk around with his hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans, or to have his finger hooked around your belt loop, he’s just so proud and happy to have you, why wouldn't he want to be seen with you?
▸ Cowboy!Luke who takes you on rides around the trails with him, just to have some alone time to chat and ask about your life. He works with his brothers all day, most days with little time to himself so when he does get that time, he’s saddling up the horses and strolling through a trail side by side with you. It’s his favourite part of the day, getting to listen to you talk and tell him what you got up to, even if it wasn’t much at all, he’s all ears with the soppiest look in his eyes and his hand on your thigh.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who loves showing off how hardworking he is on the ranch, knowing that you'll kiss him at the end of his day. You’re leaning on the gates and watching him at work, every now and then he passes and leans in for a kiss before continuing with what he’s doing. He’s insistent that he shows you ‘his way with horses’, and by that he means how he tames them and how they naturally gravitate towards him like magic. You’re always impressed, which only encourages him.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who manages to wiggle you into every conversation, especially if he's being flirted with, pulling out your photo and alternating between 'Ain't she a pretty thing?' and 'Ain't she an angel?'. He’s not the smoothest talker, but he knows how and when you bring you up, after all, he’s not interested in anyone else but you.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who likes to take naps with you, laying on his chest, either across the front seat or back/cargo bed of his truck, hats over your eyes. Now and then he’ll lead you into his room or to a sofa, getting you to lie down so he can snuggle into your chest or neck, pouting if you’re not scratching his back or playing with his hair.
▸ Cowboy!Luke washing his car during the summer and insists he needs you as his helper, purposely soaking you whenever he gets the chance for giggles. If you’re wearing a white top, then you’ve set yourself up. He’s spraying you the second he gets the chance until your top’s transparent, and all he’s doing is laughing until you’re ringing out a sponge over him. He’s one-hundred percent taking the opportunity to hoist you onto the hood to stand between your legs, hands taking your face to capture you into a kiss, and one with tongue because he’s a little shit.
▸ Cowboy!Luke who takes his shirt off during the summer when working on his truck, especially if you're around. He does it partially because it’s hot, but mostly because he knows you’re a fiend for him when he does, and hey, if it means you’ll run your fingers over him more, he’ll do it. He’ll flex his muscles when he catches you staring, drawing giggles from you, coaxing you into padding over to wrap your arms around him. He hums feeling your palms run over his chest and stomach, and when you start doing that, he knows you’re purposely distracting him. He doesn’t mind.
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