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#I know this became VERY pink
kentopedia · 6 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento
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yuuji accidentally calls you mom
contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059
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“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”
kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.
a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.
so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.
“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”
yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.
“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.
“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”
he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”
there's an elongated moment of silence.
you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.
all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“
“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“
though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”
you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.
kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”
you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.
“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.
yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.
“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!
kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.
“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”
"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."
kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.
though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.
you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”
yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”
kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”
you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.
"you should be nicer to your son, kento."
kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."
you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.
but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.
"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.
kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."
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ciaoteamo · 20 days
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Milk and Water (Pt. I)
pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader
summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?
pt.II
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art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)
warning: 18+ content
“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.
A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.
“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.
“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.
You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.
You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.
“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.
“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.
Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.
“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.
You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.
“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.
“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.
“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.
His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.
Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.
“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button
“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.
“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.
“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.
“hm” You nod and press the button.
“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.
You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.
The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.
You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.
About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.
Staring at you.
His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.
“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.
“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.
“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”
He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.
His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.
“…what. the. fuck.”
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verahella · 2 months
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— FIRST STEPS
“here, here, boy.”
you stifle a laugh, “he’s not a dog, satoru.”
“fetch.” he continues, smile widening when you burst into snickers.
your baby isn’t sure what his mom is laughing at but he joins in, smacking his hands on the floor as he gurgles along happily. he stumbles a little but his eyes stay firmly fixed on the lollipop satoru is waving around in his face.
“c’mon, baby. show your mom who’s the best and your favourite parent in the world.”
you scoff, “that’s not fair. you’re bribing him.”
his eyes don’t stray from your child as he replies, “it builds character. you gotta teach them young.”
“i will never understand how he became a dad.” megumi’s voice mutters through the phone.
“well, you see megumi-chan, when a man and a woman love each very much—”
you smack away gojo’s peeping head from the camera and focus it back on your son. he claps as he says something nonsensical, to which gojo nods along encouragingly, shoving the lollipop even closer and twirling it in the air.
megumi leans in closer to the screen, watching the act of corruption unfold on facetime, “i can’t believe he’s already taking his first steps.”
you smile, “that’s the thing with kids, megumi. they grow up too fast and right under your nose, yet you never know it. it just hits you like a truck and you’ve gotta deal with it.”
“sensei seems to be doing fine though.”
“don’t let his act fool you. he whines every night about how he’s getting old and soon his son will throw him in an old age home and—”
“that was a confidential late night conversation!” he grumbles, crossing his arms as the camera faces towards him. “besides, i did well with you, didn’t i?”
you catch a glimpse of megumi’s pink face before he mumbles something about kidnapping and hangs up. a smile blooms on your lips and you rest your hand on his shoulder, “you really did well.”
“nice try but that doesn’t mean i’m gonna let you have this one.” he gestures to the toddler spinning around himself now to catch the tail on his dinosaur onesie. a strand of white hair peaks through his hood and as his blue eyes catch yours, you can’t help but be reminded of the man beside you.
his hair, your nose. his eyes, your intelligence. his lips, your words.
holding a thousand features of you and gojo, proof of your love in flesh and blood, your son stands in front you with drool dripping down his chin.
a baffled expression takes over his face at his parents and their audacity to not include him in a group hug and he babbles angrily, waddling towards you while gojo snaps about a billion pictures from all angles, competition long forgotten as he coos at his pride and joy.
a tiny pair of arms hug your legs and you lift up your son, grinning. it’s bittersweet and maybe you’re overreacting for him just ‘walking’, but you can’t help but want to capture this moment and let it stay like this forever.
of course, all good things must come to an end.
gojo rests his chin on your shoulder, pulling down his blindfold, “now that he can walk, can we go bungee jumping?”
“what? satoru, no.”
“satoru yes.”
you get interrupted by a lollipop into your mouth and gojo kidnapping your son and teleporting to god knows where.
the couch will be warm tonight.
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sturnsdoll · 11 days
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𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙 -`♡´- - c.s & t.y x reader
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inspired by THIS
pairing: chris x tara x reader.
summary: two of your bestfriends stay over after a party. your friend tara's flirting quickly escalates the night into something much less innocent than a little sleepover.
warnings: smut, threesome, face sitting, dom!chris, switch!tara, sub!reader, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f & m recieving), praise, overstimulation, fingering, no protection (it's fiction. don't be dumb.), probably forgot some sorry!
authors note: omg y'all been on my ass to finish writing thiss <3 i did write and edit this while sleepy so (i really hope not) BUT if there's mistakes or lack of detail i'm really sorry!
"pink" = reader speaking "purple" = tara speaking "orange" = chris speaking
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the time on your phone read 3:04am.
with a sigh you searched your surroundings impatiently. you'd been stood outside on the lawn of this stupid giant house for 4 minutes too long. the dampness on you from light raindroplets coming down just made the experience all the more unpleasent.
the mansion behind you was a mututal friends. inside, music blared so loud that it was seeping out through the windows. despite the absaloutely absurd hour of the night it was still bustling with people inside. sometimes in LA it felt like the parties just never died out. to be fair though, the number had signifincantly decreased from the start of the night when there must have been at least 100 people on the property.
"hey, sorry! i got caught up in yappin while trying to say goodbye to people" tara's familiar voice instantly made your tense shoulders drop. you turned to face her with a smile "it's alright. seen chris around yet?" your eyes scanned behind her to see if he was coming even though you didn't expect him to be. and he wasn't. "maybe we should text him?" tara suggested as she also looked behind her, as if it would make him appear faster. you pulled out your phone to send him a message.
3:07. they were both told to meet out here at 3:00. 7 minutes still wasn't terribly late.
tara's voice took you from your screen "we've been out here freezing, loser" you stop typing your text message to look up at whoever she was talking too. you were met with the sight of chris holding his jacket over his head to block from the rain falling down on him. "my bad, i got lost in the house.." he admitted as he got right up to the two of you and held his jacket out a little further to invite you both beneath it's shelter. "but i already called the uber so it should be here soon." he said re-assuringly. you both stepped beneath the coverage of his jacket. it didn't completely block the rain but it was something.
tara was staying over tonight because the two of you almost always stay at one anothers after parties. chris however, was coming along because neither matt or nick wanted to come to the party so you had taken him here, as well as offered to take him home the next day. he could have just ubered home tonight but, you and tara insisted that he come over to hang out after. what was he gonna do? say no to a fun innocent little sleepover with his friends??
the three of you walked in unison in order to keep your place under the shelter of chris' jacket. the whole way off the property the music faded and tara's heels clicking mixed with the rain's intensity picking up became all that was heard.
the close proximity of the three of you should have been uncomfortable but you had absaloutely no issue being this close to tara and chris- probably because they were both very outgoing and touchy people so they were comfortable as well, giggling the whole way down the lawn about who knows what. the smell of rain and chris' dior cologne filled your senses up the whole walk until finally, you all made it to the sidewalk and the uber was right there across the street.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
the ride home, you had all sat in the back together. you sat in the middle, head on chris's shoulder and one leg swung over tara's lap as you and tara yapped away almost the entire time. this wasn't weird because tara, you and chris were all naturally touchy people. and the alcohol hadn't completely left yours or taras systems quite yet.
opening your front door now, you instantly removed the heels that had been abusing your feet for hours. "i'm gonna get comfy clothes, you two can make yourselves comfortable" you told your friends as you locked your door securely. "could i borrow a shirt or something?" tara questioned with a sweet pleading smile as she slid off her heels and coat. "of course! come on" you enthused, leading her toward your laundry room since you hadn't had time to put any of your clothes away earlier before the party.
chris watched as you lead tara away. he had already made himself at home on your couch. he had been here before so it didn't take him long to figure out the tv remote either.
tara eventually picked out a t-shirt of yours to wear. you had chosen a matching tank and shorts pj set. as you were sliding your shorts on under your dress, you caught sight of tara sliding her dress down her shoulders. slowly her tits peaked over her dress, little by little till they were completely exposed.
you were in awe of how perfect they sat. how pretty. you were so mesmerized that you didn't even realize she had completely removed her dress and caught your hungry gaze. a typical tara giggle escaped her, snapping you out of your haze.
your eyes shot up to hers and you look petrified. "i'm so sorr-" "no no, it's okay" you could tell by the smile on her face that she was genuine. she slid your shirt over her head, covering her body back up again. "you want help unzipping your dress?" she asked. you were still so stuck on what had just happened that the question caught you off gaurd. why not though? god knows it'd be a nightmare to unzip it yourself. so, you nodded with an embarassed "sure".
tara made her way behind you, she stepped just a little closer than necessary and her painted fingernails found your zipper to slide it down. you could feel her breath on your neck, making your spine shiver. she slowly slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders, letting your dress fall down near your stomach.
she came right behind you, head on your shoulder. she looked down at your chest VERY obviously observing you with her gaze. "gorgeous" she complimented, her mischevious smile contradicting her sweet and casual tone. she gave a quick kiss to your shoulder before abruptly leaving the room to go find chris like it was nothing.
you stood completely dumbfounded. you and tara were extremely close but that was weird, right? after a couple minutes of collecting your thoughts, you chalked it up to her flirty personality just being fed a little too much liquid courage tonight.
after getting your clothes on you made your way to the living room where chris and tara were talking away. they were sitting surprisingly close but, spacial awarness wasn't always tara's specialty. chris didn't seem to mind.
"heyy me and chris are deciding what we want to eat, what do you want?" she questioned excitedly with uber eats already open on her phone.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
you all had made your decisions on food as well as a movie and you instructed that everyone watched it in your room to be more comfy so here the three of you were now..
chris laid with his back against your headboard while you and tara sat next to him on either side. chris and tara were talking over the movie that was nearly over now. waterbottles and empty fast food containers filled the space on your side table. you and tara had completely sobered up about an hour ago after having had some food.
"right? like wear what you want i guess but like WOW i just.." you had no clue what chris was talking about and you didn't care, as your eyes fixated on the tv screen you drowned out your two friends voices. reaching into your bedside tables drawer, you removed a vanilla chapstick sorry spacecamp to fix the dryness that earliers alcohol had cursed you with.
the scent of it was super strong. chris had subconciously switched his attention from what he was saying to your lips as the scent you were applying filled his nose and senses. he watched as you drug it across your perfect, round and now smooth, lips. he realized he was staring and quickly looked away. now that his attention had been drawn to you, he realized that you hadn't really talked to him or tara much for the past hour.
"what is that? cake or some shit?" he said, more so as a reason to include you in conversation than out of actual curiousity. you went to put the cap back on the vanilla lipbalm "can i try?" tara asked before you could even answer chris. you went to hand her the tube but she stopped you by grabbing your wrist gently "why waste it when we could share?" she asked. you were confused for a second until a playful glint in her eyes told you what she meant.
so earlier she was flirting? you thought to yourself. your expression mirrored hers with a smirk as you casually responded "of course you can try it". she begins to move forward so you do too. the both of you are leaning over chris when your lips connect in a gentle peck. chris has no idea how to react. his lips are parted, eyes glossy with a growing desire as he watches his two friends infront of him.
your lips hover one anothers for a moment but nobodies pulling away so you connect mouths again. this time there's a passion, lust, to the kiss. your the first to add tongue and tara's more than welcoming about it, her tongue fighting back against yours for dominance. you lean into the kiss more and with that same surge of confidence, you make a split second decision to "accidentally" steady yourself by pressing your hand ontop of the blanket.. right over where chris' dick is located.
an unexpectful grunt slips his lips. you pull back from tara just a little to gage chris's reaction. he doesn't seem to mind but for your own good-concious you need to make sure. "this okay?" you ask as your palm gently starts rubbing onto the tent in the blanket. he nods confirmingly, a quiet "yeah" before his lips eagerly meet yours. tara backs up just slightly so she can adjust herself to place a kiss below chris's jaw. his hand rests onto her knee and he rubs his thumb lightly as a show of approval.
with that, she opens her mouth and begins lightly nipping at his neck. tara takes his hand that's on her knee and grabs it to guide it toward you, silently telling him to give you the attention instead right now. chris smirks into the kiss but you don't know why until his hand goes to toy the waist band of your shorts, making you flinch a little at the cold touch of his fingertips.
tara's lips leave chris's neck. she shuffling around the bed so you try to pull away to see what she's doing. chris's hand comes to the back of your head, forcing you back onto his lips. that doesn't last long though because next thing you know, tara's grabbing your shoulders to pull you to lay down on your back, head toward the end of the bed. your legs naturally go on either side of chris. he's still seated with his back against the headboard.
"you wanna make me feel good babe?" the tone of tara's voice makes your stomach flutter. you respond by nodding eagerly. tara giggles mischeviously in response as she stands to remove her black lace panties. chris eyes catch onto her. both of you watch as she bends over to slide them off, momentarily revealing her glistening pussy.
his attentions pulls away when you subconciously buck your hips up for attention. chris' long fingers slide into the waistband of your shorts to slide them off your legs. you allow him, lifting your hips to help. now you lift your head to watch what chris is up to. you feel tara's weight consume the bed next to your head but keep your eyes trained on the man between your legs. chris tosses your shorts aside before his hands find your thighs. painstakingly slow, his palms run up and down them, always close but never quite touching your aching cunt.
you begin to get impatient "chris. pl-" you're cut off by tara lightly grabbing your jaw and forcing your head back down against the bed. "shh. let him take his time honey" as she speaks she raises herself over your face, thighs now on either sides of your head. you open your mouth to argue but instead you're silenced by tara's folds pressing onto your lips.
well, you for sure weren't gonna argue with that. you forget about chris for now, wanting tara's taste in your mouth. your tongue darts out to experimentaly flick at her clit once before you completely dive in to suck on her needy bud.
tara whines from the lack of build up. she looks down at you admirably as your tongue works her "so good honey." she praises you. it hasn't even been a minute and your pussy drunk, you wanna make her keep telling you how good your doing, wanna pull more pretty noises. you're so completely consumed with her that you hadn't even noticed chris pulled your panties to the side until his fingers unexpectedly ran through your folds.
"so fucking soaked." chris states, admiring your soaked cunt. "yeah? you like being buried in me that much?" tara teases, staring down at you. to answer her, your tongue slips into her hole, nose stimulating her clit now. "orr she just wants to be touched, hm?" chris says with slight competitivness, his pointer finger just barely grazes over your clit. you buck your hips toward him for more but he uses his free arm to hold your waist to the bed.
tara scoffs, rolling her eyes even though neither of you can see it. "yeah sure" she mutters quietly in response to chris. he catches it though, "i'd watch your tone" chris warns her. before tara can respond, he thrusts his middle and ring fingers into you, elicting a moan. the vibrations of your moan travel straight into taras cunt, making her whine loudly.
chris watches with satisfaction at having affected both of you at the same time. although his cock is throbbing, he's more than happy to watch the sight infront of him and continue to toy and play with you. or both of you. his fingers are as deep as they go when he curls them upwards. you cry out, grabbing tara's hand with one of yours and her thigh with your other.
your tongue is still fucking her closer and closer to the edge. everytime chris forces out all your pretty little noises, they go straight into tara's cunt again and again.
her thighs begin suffocating the sides of your head. you don't mind at all. she rocks her cunt right into your face, whines spilling out of her. "i'm close" she voices, her thighs beginning to shake. "not yet, get off of her" chris demands. tara turns her head as far as it goes to look back at chris. "excuse me?" she questions him . chris's fingers pull out of you. you try to complain but it's muffled. they continue the conversation without you. "you're not cumming yet." he tells her. tara looks... offended? baffeled? she opens her mouth to complain but chris rolls his eyes and raises to his knee's so he can grab taras hips, lifting her off you.
you immedietly sit up, confused. tara's juices coat your chin and chris motions for you to come to him. "what. the. fuck?" you finally complain, looking between the two of them. "what she said" tara chimes in. chris turns tara to face him and lays back. he looks at tara then nods toward his lap. the sour look leaves her face and she smirks knowingly as she straddles his hips, already working at his belt.
chris's attention switches to you. "you wanna feel good again? hm?" he asks you with a slightly cocky smile. you nod. "cm'ere" he lures you over to sit on his face. while tara unbuttons and removes chris' pants.. you nervously place your thighs on either side of your friends face.
his middle and ring fingers return back to your aching hole to tease you again. he can sense your nervousness to lower yourself onto his mouth. "cm'on let me taste you" chris says, telling not asking as he looks up at you. you're looking anywhere but him. he groans frustratedly and decides to take matters into his own hands. he uses his free arm to wrap it around your thigh and pull you right down to his tongue. he wastes no time flicking the tip of his tongue up and down your clit rapidly. as if that wasn't enough, his fingers fill you right back up. you almost jump at the unsuspected and sudden pleasure. you push your cunt further onto his mouth for more. you look down to see his blue lustful gaze staring right back up at you while he smirks into your sopping cunt. you clench around his fingers just at the sight.
meanwhile, tara's teasingly pulling his boxers toward his thighs.
tara wants nothing more than to ride him like he had implied however, tara figured someone might as well return the favour that he's giving to you right now. she leans down and her hand wraps around his base at the same time her lips enclose his tip.
a whiny moan slips chris lips that makes tara amusedly giggle around his cock, causing him to let another noise slip. both of these go right to your clit. you grip chris' hair for support and in return he curls his fingers right up into your g-spot.
you throw your head back and begin attempting to rock your hips into chris' face. the arm that's around your thigh holds you still though and he begins curling his fingers the same way over and over, again and again. you whine and moan as your body tries again and again to rock against his grip on you. chris lips wrap around your clit now, nipping and sucking. your stomach twists with pleasure, you know what's coming if he keeps this up.
tara's mouth slides down his length, taking him in almost completetely. chris's teeth bite down on your clit in reaction. it's not hard enough to truly hurt but enough to shock you and almost tip you right over the edge.
chris releases your clit with a pop. his voice is shakier than he anticipated. "y-you wanna cum baby?" your friend asks as he looks up at you, your juices on his face with pussy drunk eyes. "mm- mhm" is all you manage. he gently slaps your thigh, making you whine. "lemme hear you say it" his fingers continue to curl into you.
"i w-wanna cum chris mm please" you beg him desperately as you clench around his fingers. there's a few seconds of silence that makes tears fill the corner of your eyes. "good girl. g-go ahead" he struggled to speak as the pleasure tara's tongue gave him was almost too much.
the 'good girl' was more than enough for you. you practically fold over, you would have if your headboard wasn't there to grab onto. your legs shake and your walls squeeze his fingers, your orgasm is already coming over you but then on top of it chris adds his mouth back to the mix, latching it back to your clit. "chris!" his name comes out high pitched. stars cloud your vision as you coat his fingers completely.
tara's mouth release's chris' cock. the bed shifts for a couple seconds and before he can process it, the warm walls of her cunt envelope him, sinking all the way to his pubic bone. chris moans into you again but this time it feels like too much. you tried to lift your hips off of him but he only pulls your pretty pussy right back to him. his fingers leave you but his tongue flattens against your hole, licking a long stripe from there till your clit.
"fuck chris!""fuck!" you and tara both whine out. your pleasure's from the overstimulation, hers from the way his cock hits all the right spots when she rocks on it. his dick twitching inside of her at the sound of both your pretty cries. when tara begins a steady and fast pace, chris couldn't help but subconciously try and fuck up into her. she leans back, her hands on his thighs to steady herself as her rythym became faster. both chris and tara let out noises. hers whiny and desperate, his lower and less often.
you couldn't hear either of them over the ringing in your ears from every muscle in your body shaking. because of your last orgasm, you were still very sensitive. this time all it took was chris's mouth sucking on your clit for and you were almost there again.
tara was finding friction for her clit from rocking it into chris' pelvis everytime her hips moved. her mouth was slack and she was hardly even moaning anymore. heavy breaths coming as her chest heaved. "fuck- i'm so close" tara mutters mostly to herself. you took a hand off the headboard to reach behind you, your hand reaching out behind you and she takes the hint, grabbing it. you both squeezed one anothers hands for support.
you guys weren't the only one's close. chris's dick was twitching inside your bestfriend and his hips start to stutter.
tara pushes her hips down harder onto her friend and the feeling was enough for the coil in her stomach to release. she cried out breathlessly and at the same time, your thighs squeeze chris's head as you dig your nails into tara's hand. your mind goes completely blank.
you remove yourself from chris's face, completely overstimulated. tara leaves his cock at the same time, red and leaking precum. chris looked at tara confused.. until she looks at you, then back to him.
you didn't notice this, you were sat next to chris, chest heaving while you catch your breath. "think you can take one more, babe?" tara speaks up but her voice is strained and raspy from all the gorgeous noises she had emitted just moments ago.
you looked at chris who was already looking at you. he looked pretty, sweat causing a few of his brown strands to cling to his forehead. despite looking a little fucked out, he still had an eagerness to him probably because he hadn't cum yet.
he got up into a seated position and reached out, hand going into your hair to pull you into him. his lips collided with yours feverishly whilst tara's fingertips teasingly graze his tip. he instantly swatted her hand away. she let him because they both knew he had other plans.
chris turned you around, positioning you on your knee's infront of him. your back pressed against his chest.
he used his knee's to seperate yours, shuffling them apart. tara came infront of you, on her knee's as well. she attatched her lips with yours while chris was positioning himself. your arm came around the back of her neck and the other reached behind you to go to the back of chris's neck as well.
chris brushes his tip against your clit. you instantly jerked your hips away from his from the overstimulating feeling. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you back. you whine but he shushes you. "jus one more, yeah?" he assured right before his cock entered you, filling you up completely.
your lips left tara's to let out what was practically a scream. "shh honey" enphasizing her words, tara's hand clasps over your mouth. she lowered her head level to your tits before taking a nipple into her mouth. this makes you whine again, then again when chris's tip abuses your cervix without warning.
you're already so sensitive from his tongue and fingers just moments ago, his cock feels like too much but so good at the same time. "so good for us" chris praises before slamming into you again, making you scream into tara's hand. her other hand lands a light slap to your sensitive clit, making your hips jerk. you don't go far against chris' firm hold on you. "mm- g- cmm" even with taras hand shutting you up, they both know what you're saying.
chris mouth is now right next to your ear "not yet. you're gonna cum with me" he mutters to you. you shake your head, not thinking you're gonna last. "either you can fuckin wait for me or- fuck- or i'll make you take a fourth o-one" he threatens you. you shake your head in momentary panic. there's no way you're gonna cum for a fourth after this but if he makes you wait much longer to cum you aren't gonna have a choice but to finish before he allows you to.
tara continues to swirl her tongue around your nipple fiercly and as if you weren't already fucked dumb, her middle finger makes sudden contact with your clit, rubbing fast circles.
now you know that they're both just trying to fucking ruin you.
now you speak nonsense into her hand, making her smirk with amusement. "what's wrong honey, too much?" tara asks you with a faux-sympathetic pout. you aggresively nod your head. responding for tara, chris pulls you impossibly tighter against him, hips slamming harder into you. you yell into her hand and both of them smirk. "want us to stop?" she says teasingly, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure. you instantly shake your head no.
her fingers still toy your clit and chris's pace slowly starts to falter. you can feel his breath on your neck becoming un-even. tara circles your sensitive bundle of nerves faster and you're sure your gonna be cumming before you're allowed.
luckily for you, the way chris holds your body tighter and his forehead drops to your shoulder says otherwise. "you gonna cum with me?" his voice is all low fucked out and it makes your walls squeeze him harder than ever. you nod, unable to speak for more than one reason. "go on then" he encourages along with a harsh slam of his hips. the second "go" left his lips your vision went white.
the next thing you were aware of was about 20 seconds after when his seed was spilling up into you to coat your walls. his forehead rested on your shoulder while he praised you on how good you were for him. "did so well" he said before gently kissing your shoulder while tara's fingers left your clit at the same time chris pulled out of you.
chris reached down next to your bed to retrieve everyones clothing for them. you had two bathrooms so you and tara headed off to one for a shower. chris to the other bathroom for the same reason.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
you all returned to your room after, clean and in new clean clothes. (lucky for chris, nick hangs out here often and you love to steal his shit to wear for comfort.)
chris had entered just as you finished making your bed with fresh sheets. "better not have been fucking in there without me" chris joked as he made himself comfortable laying on your bed. you and tara both simultaniously rolled your eyes at him, scoffing. you both joined him on the bed to lie down.
you were in the middle of them. chris spooned you and you spooned tara, cuddling one another comfortbly way past awkwardness at this point. chris rubbed a relaxing hand up and down your side and you played with your other friends hair relaxingly. you should know better though, comfortable silence doesn't exist with chris around...
"guess what?"
you audibly sighed. "what?" tara and you groaned knowingly in unison.
there's a little grin on his face that neither of you can see, but nonetheless you both sense the ridiculousness. "i saw both your boobies" he says in a childish sing-song tone.
"oh my god" "are you fucking kidding me?"
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i really hope y'all enjoyed. ᥫ᭡
tags: @daddyslilchickenfingers @fratbrochrisgf @mattsrod @sturncakez @sturniololovesss @sturniccc
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 26 days
Note
also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy
“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 
“Yeah, babe.” 
“No thanks.” 
You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 
“I’ll have socks.” 
You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 
“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 
“Why?” 
“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 
“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 
“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 
She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 
Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.
You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 
“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 
“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 
“No shoes,” Amy says. 
“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 
In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 
You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 
“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 
And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 
You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 
“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 
“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  
Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 
“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 
“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 
“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 
“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 
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indecisivemuch · 1 month
Text
The Pact
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).
Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.
Word count: 3.4k
You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.
Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows. 
Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.
Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you. 
To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.
“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.
“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.
“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”
“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”
“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words. 
Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet. 
“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”
“Why?” Luke questioned.
“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”
Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.
Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.
“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”
“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”
A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.
“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it. 
Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out. 
“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.
A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’
“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.
“Deal.”
Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.
During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.
“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.
Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.
Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough. 
Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.
However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.
The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.
However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.
You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now. 
You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.
“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.
“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.
With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris. 
“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.
“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”
“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed. 
“...No, but—”
“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”
“He doesn’t like me like that.”
“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”
“Show up to what?”
“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”
“Where did he leave the note?”
“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”
“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk. 
Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party. 
“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.
“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.
“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.
“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.
That was when everything made sense.
“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.
“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him. 
You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath. 
“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”
Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.
“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?
So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.
All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.
“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.
However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?
“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.
“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”
You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.
“I want you.”
And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.
“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”
“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.
“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.
“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.
“I want you to kiss me.”
Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.
Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact. 
“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.
“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.
Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last. 
Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:
Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).
Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).
Step 3. Confess (tick).
Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).
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seungkw1 · 2 months
Text
mine — jww
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♡ pairing: boyfriend!wonwoo x afab!reader ♡ theme: fluff, smut [18+ mdni], non-idol au ♡ wc: 2.6k ♡ warnings: swearing, size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, dacryphilia, petnames (m. & f. receiving - babe, baby), reader is gender neutral but referred to as girlfriend once, gr8 aftercare ofc ♡ a/n: this is a part two to so fucking pretty but you don’t have to read that one first :)
‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡
You wouldn’t consider yourself a very romantic person, but your boyfriend’s Valentine’s Day surprise might just change your mind about that.
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You’ve never given a single shit about Valentine’s Day. It’s not so much that you hate it or anything, but rather indifference - you simply couldn’t care less. Just another capitalistic holiday for companies to profit off of, right? Plus, red and pink is simply a godawful color combination. So yeah, you’ve never given a shit. 
That is - until you met Wonwoo. 
You’ve dated here and there over the years, but nothing ever too serious - all of your partners either turned out to be lousy or the relationships were just bland. So, all of them ended, and you were never too upset about it. 
But with Wonwoo, everything is different. You’ve only been dating for three months, but your relationship is the complete opposite of lousy or bland. Wonwoo is warm and loving - squeezing you in his arms and giving you kisses every chance he gets. He is caring and kind - listening to you talk no matter whether you needed to vent or just wanted to infodump about your interests. He is sweet and gentle - leaving you cute notes and surprising you with little gifts just because.
He is also incredibly fucking hot, and an absolute god in the bedroom.
You fucked him on the first date, which is very unlike you, but your chemistry was undeniable and it just happened naturally. That was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life - and every time since then has also been the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. You’d be an absolute fool not to stick around.
And so, Wonwoo became your boyfriend. You’ve always found that term to be a bit juvenile, so historically you’ve just referred to your significant other as your partner. But every time you think about Wonwoo you feel the urge to giggle and kick your feet in the air, so the term boyfriend simply feels right. You’re practically head over heels for the man. 
“Ooooo you’re so in love with him,” your best friend teased as you were gushing about your boyfriend for the nth time. 
“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes as you replied. Maybe you’re a bit jaded from your mediocre past relationships, but the phrase in love is not one you throw around lightly. 
But deep down, you know it’s true. You’re in love with Wonwoo.
But you’re not ready to admit that to anybody. So you keep it to yourself. You’ll cross that bridge when you get there.
That day arrives much sooner than you anticipate.
February rolls around. It’s the dead of winter, arguably the most boring time of year. Your mind is preoccupied with the job interview you have coming up, and you’ve been a bit stressed about it. Wonwoo has been nothing but supportive and helpful - giving you advice, offering to help you practice, cleaning your apartment for you of his own free will - and you are more than grateful to have him around. 
One particularly cold Saturday morning, you wake up to a text from Wonwoo. 
Good morning beautiful! Text me when you’re awake 😊
You smile sleepily as you reply. 
Good morning babe 💖 I’m awake!
The chat bubble pops up as he begins to reply immediately. 
Great! Can you be ready by 11am? I have a surprise for you 😁
A surprise?
Y/N: Oooh, what kind of surprise? WW: It’s a secret 😉 Y/N: Hmm 🤔 Okay... What should I wear though?  WW: Wear whatever you want, you look cute in everything! Y/N: Hehe okayyyy WW: Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 11! See you soon 😊
You hop out of bed and start to get ready, practically dancing around your apartment. You open your closet and stare at your clothes, trying to decide what to wear - which proves to be hard when you don’t know where you’re going. You end up grabbing the cozy light blue sweater Wonwoo complimented you on when you wore it a couple weeks ago, and a cute pair of jeans to match. You’re putting on your heeled boots when you hear the knockknockknock of somebody at the door. You open the door to see your boyfriend, looking incredibly handsome in his dark coat and black-rimmed glasses. He extends to you a bouquet of a dozen red roses.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says with a soft smile. 
As you take the bouquet Wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. As your lips part you look at him, an inquisitive look on your face.
“But it’s not Valentine’s Day yet,” you tell him.
“I know,” he replies as he gives you a little kiss on your nose. “But I couldn’t wait.”
You feel a huge smile color your face. 
“So, where are we going?” 
The waitress sets a massive plate of the fanciest waffles you’ve ever seen in front of you. You start to salivate at the sight of the fresh berries and cream heaping on top.
A few weeks ago you had casually mentioned the bougie brunch place you’ve always wanted to try, but it was expensive and the wait was always way too long. Turns out Wonwoo immediately called and made a reservation for you two.
You go to dig into your waffles when you notice your boyfriend holding his phone up, taking photos of you.
“Hey! Stop that,” you say as you playfully try to grab his phone.
“What?” he asks innocently. “You just look so pretty.”
He looks at you adoringly. You pout, feigning annoyance, and he snaps another picture - making you laugh. There’s no way you can be mad at him, he’s simply too sweet.
After the decadent meal Wonwoo walks you back to his car, holding your hand, and insists upon opening the car door for you - even helping you take off your coat. It’s silly, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy.
Wonwoo starts driving, but in the opposite direction of your home.
“Where are we going now?” you inquire.
“Remember how you said you’ve never been ice skating?”
“Oh god,” you groan. “Can’t wait to make a complete fool of myself.”
“You won’t,” he insists. “You can hold onto me.”
“But you’ve never been ice skating either,” you point out. “How do you know you’re not gonna fall too?”
Wonwoo smiles. “Then we’ll fall together.”
You scoff playfully, but a grin also appears on your face.
Ice skating ends up being a disaster. Neither one of you can stop falling (it doesn’t help that you refuse to stop holding hands, so when one of you falls both of you go down), but you also can’t stop laughing - to the point where your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You haven’t had fun like this in ages.
You look over at your boyfriend. He is extraordinarily cute right now, his cheeks rosy from the cold air. Wonwoo catches you looking at him and leans over to plant a kiss on your cheek - he then immediately runs into the wall. You let out a giggle - he looks back at you sheepishly.
“Maybe you should pay attention to where you’re going,” you tease as you nudge him with your elbow.
“Hard to do so when my beautiful girlfriend is right next to me, distracting me.” His tone mirrors your playfulness, but the way he’s looking at you - you can tell he means it.
You roll your eyes, but a huge smile lights up your face as you wrap your arm around his, squeezing him tightly. 
On the drive back Wonwoo suggests you go to his place, to which you happily agree. Before you enter, he tells you to close your eyes.
“No peeking!” he insists.
“I won’t!” you swear, placing your hands over your eyes. 
You walk through the front door and wait in the entryway, resisting peeking as promised. You hear Wonwoo fiddling with things for a minute, and then you hear the opening notes of your favorite album - the sound emanating from his record player.
“Okay, you can look now,” he tells you as he once again is standing right next to you. You remove your hands, opening your eyes to the sight of Wonwoo’s dim apartment - illuminated only by the dozen of freshly-lit candles placed around the living room. In his hands are the biggest box of chocolates you’ve ever seen, and a cute fuzzy teddy bear that’s holding a heart with Be mine embroidered on it.
“Oh my god, you really went all out,” you remark, smiling from ear to ear as your heart practically flutters in your chest.
“Only the best for you, babe.”
He sets down the chocolates and the bear, stopping to help you out of your coat before drawing you into his embrace, kissing you softly and slowly. He then takes your hands in his, pulling you toward the hallway.
“There’s one more surprise,” he tells you.
Before you can ask him what more he could possibly surprise you with, you see the trail of rose petals down the hallway, leading into his bedroom.
“You did NOT,” you exclaim as you laugh, truly bewildered at the sight of it.
You follow the trail as he pulls you into his room, where even more petals lay on the bed, perfectly forming the shape of a heart.
“It’s so beautiful I almost don’t want to ruin it,” you proclaim.
Wonwoo raises his eyebrow at you.
“Hey, I said almost.”
Without a word he smiles, pulling you in so he can grab the hem of your sweater, gently pulling it over your head to reveal the lacy bra you had chosen to wear today.
“So pretty,” he remarks as he runs his hands over your breasts, before reaching around your back to undo the clasp. “But even prettier without.”
He tosses the bra aside, taking your tits in his hands. You begin to undo his shirt buttons, revealing his incredibly toned body that still turns you on so much every time you see it. His shirt gone, you move to his belt. You unbuckle it and pull it off, throwing it to the floor as you take the bulge in his pants in your palm. He lets out a soft groan as you caress him, his erection quickly growing. You go to unfasten his pants, the taut fabric giving way as you undo the zipper, his cock now bulging through his underwear, begging to escape. 
Wonwoo suddenly grabs you by the hips, twirling you around and pushing you onto the bed. 
“Get comfy, babe.”
As you recline into the soft pillows, he removes his pants and then begins to take off yours, pulling them off of you in one go. He gently pushes your inner thighs open and situates himself right in between your legs, the only barrier between his face and your cunt being the thin lacy underwear that do nothing to hide how wet you are right now. He softly kisses your clit a few times, then licks a stripe over the sheer fabric. You run your hand through his hair as he starts kissing your clit again, this time more intensely. You begin to squirm slightly against his face - silently begging for more. Wonwoo gazes up at you, giving you a little smirk as his lips hover right above you - so close that you feel breath against your core.
“Stop teasing meeee,” you whine.
You feel his finger slide under the fabric, pulling it aside to reveal your soaked center. You feel the sharpness of the cool air hitting you, followed by the warmth of Wonwoo’s mouth against your cunt. You mewl softly as his tongue traces against your folds, lapping up your juices but only making you wetter in the process. You continue to stroke his hair as he goes down on you, enjoying the view. You love the way his nose brushes against your clit as he alternates between sucking on the bud and fucking you with his tongue. 
Eventually you feel his fingers delicately graze your entrance - he inserts only one finger at first, but it still feels so good. 
“More,” you beg. “Please.”
Wonwoo slides a second finger into your cunt. He knows how to curve them perfectly, hitting you in just the right spot to drive you insane. He fucks you as he continues licking your clit - you become a moaning mess as your orgasm draws closer and closer. Your hips begin to buck involuntarily, grinding your cunt against his face - overwhelmed with pleasure. Wonwoo wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you down against the bed as he devours you. 
“Fuck, baby - I’m cumming,” you cry out. Your legs shake as the incredible sensation takes over your entire body, the white-hot flashes of pleasure flowing through you as your pussy throbs against your boyfriend’s tongue. 
As you come down, Wonwoo gives you soft little kitten licks. You sink into the pillows, your whole body relaxed in bliss. He kisses your stomach before crawling up, his body weight laying against you cozily as he presses his nose against yours. He kisses you, his lips and chin covered in your juices. You begin to make out, his tongue moving against yours, his bulge pressing against your core. You reach down, slipping your hand through the band of his underwear, and pull his cock out. You’ve fucked your boyfriend countless times by now, but every time you’re still in awe of his size. You wrap your hand around his thickness and stroke him a few times, causing precum to leak out. You guide his tip to your entrance - you moan as it easily slips in, his size stretching you out so perfectly. He slides his entire length into you, letting out a groan as he bottoms out. 
“Your pussy’s so perfect for me, babe,” he says in a low voice. He begins to fuck you, slowly pushing his cock in and out, letting your walls adjust to his size. 
“So good baby, fuck,” he says, practically growling. “Your pussy’s all mine.”
You moan as he picks up speed, thrusting his huge cock into you further and further. His lips meet yours again - your mouths and tongues dancing against each other as he fucks you, more passionately than ever before. 
“All mine, you’re all mine.”
“Oh my god,” you cry, tears forming in your eyes from the intense pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“I’m close baby - wanna cum in you,” he groans. 
“Please,” you beg. 
Wonwoo’s rhythm picks up speed - tears are fully running down your face as you let out cries of pleasure. You feel his cock pulsate against your walls as he releases, groaning as he thrusts into you, filling you up with his cum. 
As he comes down from his high, his warm body melts into yours - he’s squishing you, but you’ve never been more comfortable. His cock still inside you, he plays with your hair as he kisses you slowly. 
You lay there together for a while. Eventually, Wonwoo slowly pulls out of you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before he gets up to grab a warm towel. After he cleans you up he plops back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in, squeezing you so tightly it makes you giggle. 
You draw your head back just enough so you can look your boyfriend in the eyes. He’s so hot, so cute, gazing at you so lovingly - you truly don’t think you’ve ever been happier than you are in this moment. 
“I love you,” you tell him - for the first time. 
You didn’t plan on saying it, it just came out naturally. Because it’s true - you love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone. 
Wonwoo smiles, caressing you softly as he holds you warmly against him. 
“I love you too.”
[end] 
1K notes · View notes
mirohlayo · 2 months
Note
Hi could you write how F1 drivers would react to reader being really shy and blushing all the time?
Thank you!!
Hello !! This request is cute, so here's the cutest thing I've ever written (I think?)
F1 DRIVERS AND YOU
BEING REALLY SHY
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( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, george, verstappen & ricciardo )
warning : none just reader being shy and a blushing mess
note : f1 is coming back and i think i'm gonna scream because hell i can't wait
─ OSCAR PIASTRI
this boy is a bit like you and it's one of the reason you're genuinely yourself around him. he's humble and also shy, well he gets shy easily, but seeing you mirror his personality is probably one of his favorite thing in the world. sometimes it's you who make him all shy, then he became a blushing mess. and when it's not you then it's oscar, who absolutely melt at your shyness and the way you become red in a second. maybe you find it embarrassing but it's just precious to him. it's you, and it's perfect.
─ LANDO NORRIS
lando is such an extrovert and sassy boy. that's why it was uncommon for him to meet such a shy and timid person like you. but as the time goes on he started to completely fall in love with this side of you. he finds it adorable, the way you always blush because you're too shy to properly say something. it's so cute. he thinks the subtle tint of pink on your cheeks is the cutest thing he has ever seen. but he knows sometimes it's hard for you to get comfortable, so he often helps you when you need some help and reassurance.
─ CHARLES LECLERC
boy absolutely adores you. he's obsessed with the way you blush very fast, it's one of the things he adds on his list of favorite things he loves about you. sometimes, he would make fun of you, seeing you blushing and start to stay quiet because you're in your shy mood. but it's always in an affectionate way, he'll never make you feel sad or uncomfortable. he knows the limits. it's teasing but yet he can't help it, he'll never get tired of your cuteness.
─ CARLOS SAINZ
he didn't really know how to react at first. or how to act. he's not so comfortable with shy people. but he learned to love and appreciate you. you being yourself. now he would be lying if he said he doesn't like how your cheeks turn red so easily. it's new to him but he's so interested in you. he loves you the way you are. he likes to scan and examine you and your gestures, how you react. because then he learns about it and after he knows how to act so as not to rush you. he wants to take time to get to know the shy but adorable you.
─ LEWIS HAMILTON
the purest boy with the purest person ever. which is you. this man is so mature and he can definitely say you're the shyer person he knows. and that blushing is now something normal for you. you keep blushing all day, it became an obsession for lewis because damn he can't get enough of this cute picture of you. plus with your shy personality it's impossible for him to not adore you. and love you. every day he gets the chance to see you like that and he always asks for more, because he swears his heart beats faster when he's the one making you blush hard.
─ GEORGE RUSSEL
boy is so funny over this. i think he would more tease you than actually cherish you being all shy. but it's love teasing, he loves to keep pointing at your shyness and your blushing face because deep down his heart begs to see you like that. he tries to play it cool, but he would never tell you that he feels himself melt down a bit every time you're shy with him. like he's completely yours but you're still hesitant about things and he finds it adorable. because he'll always let you do anything with him. just ask him, you'll see.
─ MAX VERSTAPPEN
he's definitely not the best at it but he truly shows you how he cares about you being so shy. when you have trouble to talk or ask for something he's always here to help you. because ain't no way his precious girl goes through that kind of stress alone. also you have this habit of covering your face when you blush because you find it a bit embarrassing. but max always takes off your hands over your face when you're hiding because he thinks it's so cute and adorable, the pink color on your cheeks. definitely adorable.
─ DANIEL RICCIARDO
poor boy was so lost. his goofy extrovert person didn't know how to act with such a shy and timid person like you. like for real he didn't know how to not mess up everything. but as the time goes on he gets more and more comfortable. he puts so much effort into your relationship, he really doesn't want to lose you or push you to far. and then when you finally opened up to him, when your shyness fades away a bit, oh his heart didn't survives how he made you blush like crazy. it is the prettiest thing ever to him. and he'll also get a silly nickname for you. just to tease you yeah.
1K notes · View notes
eddiesxangel · 6 months
Note
If you ever felt like it, would you be cool writing reader and Eddie; their best friends and they both perv for each other but never show it and she was invited to DND and she needs to rush to the bathroom to literally rub one out and Eddie silently makes his way to see what you’re up to
Just Friends |Perv!EddieMunsonX Perv!bestie reader
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AN: I made it modern just to make it more pervy! hope you enjoy :) ps. If you see any typos no you didn’t 🤫
WC: 3.2k
It’s been almost a year since you and Eddie became friends, you’ve been inseparable since. You and Eddie first met when you were sleeping over at Nancy’s and Eddie was over for a DND session. You had literally run into Eddie, you smacked your face into his chest as you rounded the corner, in your pyjamas no less. You gave an awkward giggle and introduced yourself. You didn’t really recognize him, your lunch periods weren’t the same and he wasn’t in any of your classes. But fate swooped in, and due to that fated night everything changed. 
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Eddie was struck by you the second you crashed into his chest. He had seen you occasionally with Nancy in the halls but never could come up with a good excuse to approach you. He thought you were cute, like really fucking cute. So cute to the point that when you did actually touch him (by accident) he popped a boner the second your sparkling eyes looked into his for the first time. Lame, he knows. He couldn’t believe you had this visceral reaction over his body, but all he could think about was your lips, how they moved when you spoke his name and how you smiled at him. Eddie was absolutely screwed, and he had to do something about it he just didn’t know how. So when you finally approached him at Mike’s one day he seized his one opportunity. Turns out you were really fucking cool, on top of being really fucking cute. 
Eddie wanted to spend the most amount of time with you that he could. He was always asking to hang out one on one. His favourite would be when you would ask him over to your house. He loved being able to have access to all things you. The first time he was invited over he couldn’t believe his luck. In the midst of your hang out, you had to take a phone call in the hallway and you left him alone in your room. Eddie felt like a creep the first time but he had to know. He found your underwear drawer, it was filled with soft cotton and lace. His eyes almost popped out of his head when his hands found your red lacy thong. Pocketing it and slamming your drawer ship when he heard you giggle goodbye. 
The second time Eddie was left in your room you told him you were going to take a quick shower, leaving him to his own devices for a least ten minutes, he saw your book on your nightstand, it had a cutesy little cartoon cover, very girly, he was planning on mocking you when you got back in because who reads romance novels? He opened up to where your bookmark was, and his eyes bulged open when he saw what exactly it was you were reading
His strong hands gripped my bare hips as he pinned me down to the bed. His fingers travelled down to my soaked pussy, slowly and agonizingly circling my sensitive clit. I begged for more but he only laughed, "Only good girls get what they want" he whispered and I ground my hips up into him the best I could, but his hold was too much. "Please' I begged. "Please Sir I will do anything, I want your cock so bad, I promise I'll be a good girl." I cried. He was torturing me...
Eddie could not believe his eyes, he had no idea you were so dirty. His best friend had another side to her that he had yet to see, that he would literally sell his soul to see. Oh to hear you say those dirty words to him that he had just read. He popped a boner just thinking about it. He hadn't time to fix it so he grabbed your cow squishmallow to put on his lap when you re-entered the room in nothing but your pink bath towel. You were literally going to be the death of him. 
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You loved when Eddie would come over, but you also loved being in Eddie’s space. Being consumed by all things Eddie, the decor, the smell, the comfort of being surrounded by him. Eddie let you into his home anytime and all the time, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t home yet, you knew where the spare key was, he texted you he would be home in 40 minutes so you let yourself in and hung out until he got back. 
You walked into Eddie’s room and the urge to snoop was growing. You didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it. Stashed under his mess of clothing was Eddie's laptop. Your hands couldn’t move fast enough to the search history. Luckily for you, he was dumb enough to be logged into everything automatically. You didn’t care that this was wrong, yet you wanted to know if he had been talking to anyone. You hadn’t seen him romantically attached to anyone in the almost year you’ve been just friends. You're sure he would tell you. However, the jealousy gremlin was nipping at your ear; telling you to keep going. 
After being unsuccessful at finding any dirt you continued through the search of his laptop and found a particularly interesting bookmark. You knew this was so wrong and he probably would never forgive you if he found out but you had to know what Eddie was into. 
You clicked on the link and a porn website opened. The video was of a woman solo touching herself, and using very racy language about what she would do to the watcher. It was much different than what you consumed when you were to indulge yourself, but it was starting to turn you on as you examined the naked woman spread out in front of you. Thinking about Eddie and what he would be doing while watching this…in this bed you were sitting on, naked, touching himself to her sexy words. You thought about how big he would be, how those delicious fingers would grip himself. You often found yourself dazing out while staring at his thick ring-clad fingers. Especially when he would practice guitar, and how quickly he could move them without missing a note. Your mind drifted and you found yourself lying down in Eddie’s bed. 
Trailing your hands down underneath the waistband of your jeans, you brought a worn t-shirt that was thrown on the bed up to your nose, it smelled so strongly of Eddie. Your fingers teased your clit edging yourself as you pretended they were your best friends. You thought of how it would be to have him on top of you, how it would feel to have his cock slip past your entrance. You hummed his name quietly over and over until the slam of the screen door made you jump and you snapped out of your bliss. You quickly exited the screen and slid the laptop under the pile of clothes that rested atop the bed before Eddie entered his room. 
A bright smile struck his face when he saw you there sitting in his bed. He was oblivious to what you had been doing seconds earlier. Eddie's mind spun with the scenarios he imagined the both of you in, preferably naked. He never divulged these fantasies, of course, he couldn’t have you finding out about what a perv he was for you, or else you would never let him near you again. 
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Tonight Eddie invited you to watch in on Hellfire because you told him Nancy had a date and you had nothing to do this Friday night. You’d never attended before, you were always busy with Nancy. So when you showed up to game night you didn’t know what to expect. Eddie tried so many times to explain the game to you but you never really understood, there were too many rules and you’d always zone out as you watched his plump lips at work. Day dreaming of them on your lips, or on your neck, or on your pussy.
You walked up the the Wheeler household feeling a bit strange that you weren't here to see Nancy. You were let in by Mrs. Wheeler who was on her way out with Mr. Wheeler for a very rare date night.
"Hey guys" you greeted the group as you made your way down to the basement. 
“Hey, cutie" Eddie greeted back with the biggest smile on his face. 
It truly was a mystery to the others how the both of you weren't picking up one another's signals. You saw Mike roll his eyes after Eddie spoke but you took it like he didn't was his annoying sister's friend here to ruin their ritual. Little moments between you two were clear as day to any onlooker but to the both of you, you were oblivious. Too blind to see the signs because you’ve convinced yourselves that the other one would never share the same feelings. 
You had settled in sitting on the couch behind the DND table so you could give them space without crowding around. Eddie was directly facing you so you could see everything but still do your own thing.
As the night progressed you’d been so turned on by Eddie’s performance. The passion that filled him, the way he deepened his voice, the gaze in his eyes as he described the frightening scenes that played out for the club members. Everything that you lusted for from Eddie was heightened by 100 tonight. Eddie had such a hold over you that he didn't even know about. 
You crossed your legs trying to focus on the tiktoks you tried distracting yourself with however they were not helping because it had been a bunch of thirst traps and sexy excerpts from romance novels. Yes, you were on Booktok and no you were not ashamed of being an avid smut reader. 
Since the distractions were not working and the throbbing between your legs was becoming unbearable you needed to excuse yourself, and quickly. You barely mumbled that you needed the washroom before sprinting to the main floor to find some peace in the powder room. 
You shut the door so quickly you may have accidentally slammed it which altered Eddie's even more. He was worried about you. You'd been squirming on the couch looking very uncomfortable, and then you ran out of there like a bat out of hell. He knew he needed to see if you were okay, maybe you had gotten your period or something? 
Eddie walked up the steps and called out your name but there was no answer. As he rounded the corner he noticed the light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He walked closer and heard your muffled voice but couldn't make out the words. As he approached the door he almost knocked but froze halfway when he heard your voice loud and clear.
"Eddie please" you moaned. Eddie couldn't believe his ears because there was no way this was happening...until you did it again.
"Fuck me please, Eddie right there!" you gasped. Your clit had been throbbing the whole time you’d been downstairs you couldn’t help but relieve it. You were silently watching the secret video you had taken of Eddie while he was commanding the game. It has turned you on so much, and watching it back was even better. Eddie didn’t know what to do. But he had to think quickly because his time was limited. He hesitantly knocked on the door and cleared his throat before he spoke. “ uhhh are you alright right in there?” he stuttered out his words. The knock on the door scared you. You let out a small scream as you ripped your hands away from yourself and up to your chest feeling your heart pounding. How much had Eddie heard? How much does he know you don’t think you’re being that loud? Where are you? Oh shit, maybe you were? 
“Uhhh I’m-I’m fine Ed’s” you managed to stutter. Oh my god, you were mortified. The handle of the door giggled like Eddie was trying to come in. “Come on sweetheart open the door I really need to come in,” he continued on jiggling the door until you unlocked it. Eddie needed to seize this moment. He was never going to have another opportunity like this.
“Eddie I-” You didn’t finish your sentence because Eddie had cut you off with a kiss as he cupped your face while backing you into the opposite wall. “You’re such a little pervert. I know what you think about now when you want to touch yourself, do you think about me and what my fingers can do to you huh?” Eddie broke away from the kiss and started kissing down your neck. All of this was so sudden. You had no idea that this was going to happen when you had left the basement. “I’m not a pervert!” You defend yourself. “No baby? So if I took your hand and sniffed these fingers I wouldn’t smell your pussy all over them?” he cocked his brow. “And I didn’t hear you moan my name twice just now?” He hummed. You had never heard Eddie speak like this, not even in your wildest dreams did you think he had such a filthy mouth. “You want me, baby? I heard you and your dirty words through the door. Do you want Eddie to make you feel good? Can’t get off without me? That's it huh?” Eddie’s cockiness was only making you wetter. “Fuck Eddie I need you I have needed you for so long. Please touch me.” You gasped as his plump lips sucked the delicate skin of your neck.
“Could have just asked baby, I would give you the world” His hand grazed up your leg to the open zipper of your jeans until his calloused fingers found the waistband of your baby pink panties. Your breath hitched as he found his way into your pants, brushing over the short hair of your mound to your slick wet slit. “Oh oh oh baby,” he chuckled darkly “you’ve been hiding this from me? I don’t think you deserve me to touch you, you’ve been very naughty. Tell me, baby, you always get this wet for me? What other dirty things do you do when I’m not around?” Your mind was numb with pleasure as Eddie slowly made contact with your pussy lips. He was being so mean like he was punishing you, grazing everywhere but your clit. “Fuck. Eddie please” you beg girding your hips up into his fingers to get some relief.
“I don’t think so sweetheart” you’ve been a very bad girl. “Have I? You try to spit back. “I recall you stealing my favourite pair of panties. Don’t play innocent Munson. I found them in your room yesterday.” You chide.
Eddie kissed you to shut you up. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth as you moaned in pleasure. Your slippery slick coated Eddie’s fingers as they prodded their way up into your tight hole. “Oh, Eddie!” You sighed. “Fuck say my name again” he growled.
“Eddie!” You moaned throwing your head against the wall. His fingers were so thick. He really knows how to work his fingers. “That’s it scream my name” his cocky smirk hasn’t left his face. All disregarding everyone downstairs, you didn’t try and keep quiet. Eddie watched your chest heave as your breasts raised and fell. His free hand scaled up your shirt over your bra. His hands explored your breasts and he pulled down the cup to free you. His hands worked your nipple and your clit. The way his fingers felt exploring your body only made the feeling in your core build and build. Eddie dipped his head to take your perked nipple in his mouth. You arched your back into him and his warm tongue latched onto you. A soft “Eddie baby” slipped from your lips as you were washed away with the feeling of everything Eddie. You were getting so close so fast, you had already warmed yourself up and Eddie was here to take all of the credit. Not that you’re complaining but the coil in your core was being wound up so tightly you need for it to snap. “I'm so close! please don’t stop.” 
“Oh, so you are a good girl who knows her manners, go on then, on cum for me baby” 
Eddie kissed the sweet spot on your neck while playing with your nipple with one hand and your pussy with the other. Your senses were on overdrive and you were bumming from his words. Your body shook and your release dripped down Eddie’s fingers. A few seconds later after you come down from your high you realize that he was having all the fun and you haven’t touched him yet. You graze your hand down his stomach, to the button of his black jeans. You quickly moved your fingers to unbutton and unzip his pants. You slide down the bathroom wall and get on your knees in front of Eddie. He gathered your hair in his hands and you pulled out his cock. “You’re complaining about me hiding from you when you’ve been holding out on me this whole time?” You don't hesitate. You start making out with the base of his cock moving your way up to the tip. You coddle his balls in one hand and use the other to tease the tip of his red cock. “Fuck” Eddie sucks in a breath. You continue to worship his cock. How could you not? It was so pretty, long and thick, and slightly curved to the right. Hearing Eddie whimpering above you was music to your ears. You loved the feel of the weight of him on your tongue. You swirled your tongue on his tip taking in the taste of his precum before sliding down his length to the hilt. His pubs tickled your nose but you ignored that as you hummed onto his cock. You bobbed your head up and down. It was messy and it was loud. 
“Baby fuck fuck fuck if you keep going like that I’m-” Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before he came down your throat. The hot thick liquid ran hot down your throat. “Shit I’m sorry I’m sorry” he panted as you continued to suck him dry. Humming in satisfaction. Eddie finally loosened the grip of your hair as you pulled back and opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show him you’d swallowed it all. Eddie’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t expected you to be so filthy, just for him. He pulled you back up by your hair to stick his tongue down your throat. A giggle left your mouth and he pulled away. 
“We are so doing that again” he breathed. 
A pounding on the bathroom door made you both jump. 
“We get it you guys are disgusting! Let's get back to the game please!” The sound of Lucas’s angry voice came from the other side of the door. You could practically hear his eye-roll. Eddie and you burst out laughing “Come on baby, the Dungeon Master needs to finish up and then I will be seeing you later for more” Eddie left you in the bathroom, flushed and more than satisfied. You couldn’t wait for him to finish that sexy little game. 
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wandasaura · 1 month
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SONG IN THE CAR
summary — wanda just wants to check that you’re not lying, but you can only keep yourself together for so long before you beg natasha to fuck you in the car
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, subspace, public play, inspection kink, butt plugs, packing, strap-on usage, mentions of edging, mentions of spanking, doggy style, car sex, semi-public sex, degradation, praise, dumbification, mentions of free use, finger sucking, oral fixation, men/minors dni
authors note — i’m not even going to apologize for what this turned into because once i started i just kept adding the most unhinged things. as always, this doesn’t need to be read with the yail series but it might make more sense if it is. the ending is a wee bit rushed but i wanted to get this out for you, so i hope you enjoy!
you are in love
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
A strangled whine falls off the tip of your tongue when Wanda trails her fingers across the small of your back. The interior of the store is cold, the electric hum of an air conditioning unit almost as loud as the music that plays through speakers hidden within different vents around the clothing store. You can’t even fathom what business Wanda and Natasha have being in a shop that’s blasting brain melting pop tracks, but they dragged you inside at the first sight of the large LED letters out front. 
You’ve lost sight of Natasha, the Russian made a dramatic show of escaping toward the back wall merely seconds after Wanda dragged you over to look at a rack of denim shorts. The store was geared more toward a generation around your age, the elements of both boho aesthetic and minimalism felt almost too trendy to be authentic, but if you weren’t so… overwhelmed, to put it sweetly, you would’ve vocalized just how much you liked the style of clothes that sat folded precisely on the shelves surrounding you. 
Wanda’s hand lingered on the small of your back for longer than an appropriate second. Despite the cold store that threatened to erase all memories of the sweltering heat outside, the Sokovian’s hands were the perfect cross between just barely warm and unacceptably frigid. The longer they sat on the exposed skin of your back – the baby tee Natasha had picked out for you to wear hugging your ribs tightly and subsequently allowing both her and Wanda access to your sensitive spine – the harder it became to not envision them falling lower and lower until they found a place between your thighs for the second time that day. 
You weren’t looking at Wanda, intentionally avoiding her strong stare and focusing intensely on the white shelves that adorned the walls. You didn’t need to glance at her to feel the devilish smirk that rested across the very lips that had wrapped around your clit and left you needy only a handful of hours earlier to know that it was there and obnoxious. Natasha had kissed her in the car and claimed smugly that Wanda’s tongue still tasted of you, but neither had offered any assistance in relieving the sticky situation between your thighs. 
 When Wanda’s question went unanswered a second time, the question being if you liked anything in particular around the store, a perfectly sculpted brow rose in your direction and the attention you’d been putting on the racks of clothing became a fascination of the past. A slender finger cradled your jaw, cold against your flushed skin but not icy enough to flinch away from instinctively. The subtle gesture had forced your eyes away from the t-shirts and baby-tees you’d been meticulously staring at, and rather onto a set of twinkling green eyes. Wanda’s lips were still curved upward into a smirk, but they twinged with something dangerous as she set her gaze on your dilated pupils and permanently pink cheeks. 
“Mommy asked you a question, milaya. What’s got you so distracted?” Wanda pouts, her lips teasing and thin as they purse in an attempt to ward off a sickening grin of mischief that she wore mere seconds beforehand. She knows exactly what’s distracting you, she’d been the one to suggest this little game when Natasha decided she wanted to go shopping, but still she feigns innocence as you come undone in a disgusting public mall. 
Despite having an answer on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find the courage to share it with Wanda. There shouldn’t be any reason for you to vocalize your feelings when she’s already aware, despite her trying to break you down time and time again. Instead, you settle for something simple, and certain enough to wind her up a good deal. “Nothing.” The word doesn’t roll off your tongue as easily as you would’ve liked. It’s choppy and cuts like a dagger, but it sits lightly in the air between both of your warm bodies as Wanda takes the time to process what you’ve just said. Or rather, how you’ve just blatantly lied to her. 
“Oh, nothing’s distracting you, baby?” Wanda coos, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side as her eyes threaten to unravel the web of lies you're spinning. You don’t even have a chance to answer before she’s gripping your jaw, the pad of her thumb pressing into the hollow of your cheek while her pointer fingers sentence the other side of your face to the same fate. Her grip is tight, controlling, but not harsh enough to actually hurt. She’s mastered the art of grabbing you in a way that stuns you into submissive silence, and though you’re in public where anyone can see, she doesn’t seem to mind holding all the cards in her one-handed grip.  “So if Mommy put her hand in those pretty panties you’ve got on, she wouldn’t find a sticky mess?” 
There are two choices here, you can either deny the accusation and save a sliver of your dignity that’s waning fast as the day progresses, or you can agree with her accusation and hope that your honesty satisfies her need to be right in this moment; either choice will lead to her hand in your panties, you’re not dumb enough to believe that she’ll drop the act when you’re already this far in, but there’s still defiance burning in your belly that deceives you enough to believe you’ll walk away with the upperhand. Hastily, not thinking much of the consequences, your head shakes from side to side in the negative. You’ve decided to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that your panties are absolutely drenched by no fault of your own, it’s entirely her fault and she knows that. The movement is little, restrained to small jerks due to the hand on your jaw, but Wanda feels it, and she quirks an eyebrow. “I need words.” She tightens her grip, forces your lips to pucker and your cheeks to ache from how her fingers sit flush against your teeth. 
“N-No.” It takes all of your strength to answer her, and even still all of your mustered up courage leaves a fierce blush sinking into the apples of your cheeks and across the tips of your ears, but a fire lights in Wanda’s eyes at your prolonged battle to remain coherent. You���ve been fighting her on decisions all day, trying to keep your head above the surface and your thoughts clear, but there’s only so much clarity in a moment like this. Nobody can blame you for falling beneath the thumb of the hottest lawyer in the world when you’re quite literally putty in her hands. 
“Oh, well then I guess you won’t mind if I check for myself, will you, detka?” You’d discussed this new kink a week ago. You’d agreed to what she called inspections with no hesitancy, though a healthy bit of embarrassment at the prospect of her being able to feel your sopping cunt whenever she pleased, but you’d agreed and even anticipated the moment she decided to put your agreement to good use. You hadn’t expected her to be so bold as to cash in on your agreement in one of the most densely populated shopping malls in the state of New Jersey, but there was no getting around it now. Still, your eyes fluttered away from hers, anxiously scrounging the small boutique style store for other customers or cameras.
Your eyes only found two figures, and one was distinctly Natasha who had styled her red hair in dutch braids before you left the house. For a second, you wondered if this had been the plan all along; to get you into a store where nobody else dared to shop because of the steep prices and violate you into submission, though you wouldn’t technically call Wanda’s premistion a violation, but… still. The only employee that stood on the floor was a smaller woman with silky chestnut hair, and she occupied a space next to Natasha against the far back wall as the two engaged in a conversation that looked to be revolving around a red bikini top your girlfriend held up to her chest. It complemented her hair nicely, would do absolute wonders for her boobs, but she had no real interest in the article if the pinch between her brows was evidence enough. 
Despite the reassurances you found, you met Wanda’s gaze again and choked out a strangled whisper, “Somebody’s going to see.” The blush on your cheeks was sheerly a factor of your mortification, but Wanda seemed to crave to deepen the sharp color on your face as the hand not gripping your face began its ascent toward your core. The flowy white skirt Natasha had picked out for you allowed her access without a fuss, and when her fingers tickled the sensitive interior of your thighs, you couldn’t help but instinctively part your legs for Wanda’s quest. 
“Shh,” The Sokovian shushed you sweetly, her hand loosening its grip on your jaw but never falling away fully. Her eyes searched yours, practically looking through you as she assured that you were okay to continue, anticipating the moment the safeword fell off your lips and all of her movements stopped. You’d never stop adoring her caution in moments like these. “Let Mommy do the thinking, sweetheart. Little girls don’t need to be worrying about anything other than their Mommy.” Her words fell onto you thickly, and a pout pulled at your lips as they sunk in. That submissive headspace all three of you adored was creeping up on you slowly, and her infantilizing words merely accelerated the process as you blinked at her slowly. 
The hand on your thigh brushed across your mound tauntingly slow, and for a second, you’d forgotten that you weren’t going to receive anything from her touch when it finally came. There would be no pleasure to spiral through your core when her fingers found a home beneath the drenched material of your panties. All that would come from her touch was embarrassment and more frustration. You gasped when Wanda’s ring trailed down the warm skin of your cunt, tracing a path downward until it fell onto your clit almost perfectly. Your hips startled at the cold sensation, but Wanda merely shushed you as the tips of her fingers sought out the source of your arousal. She hummed inquisitively, the pad of her finger pressing against your sopping entrance for merely a moment before it was gone and she was trailing strings of your wetness back up to your clit. 
“You’re so wet, utenok. No wonder you’re having such a hard time listening to Mommy. I bet it’s so hard to think when your pretty little pussy is just crying for attention.” Wanda mused mockingly, the pads of her fingers circling your clit that throbbed and ached for actual relief, but the pleasure never came. As quickly as her hand had dipped into your underwear and sought out your intimacy, they’d fallen away and resettled on your hips. The sticky thinness of your arousal smeared against your exposed skin kissed beautifully from the summer sun, and you knew she had every intention of making you walk through the mall with a patch of glimmering dampness adorning your body that you’d never have the courage to explain if someone questioned it. A deep blush settled across your cheeks, but Wanda wasn’t finished yet. Before you could reach out to her and tangle your fingers into the softness of her t-shirt, she was spinning you around and forcing your back against her chest. “Mommy’s not finished yet. Be a good girl and stay quiet while she checks something.” 
You’d almost had the chance to question her intentions before the words were stolen from between your bitten lips and the softest gasp of pleasure fell from you instead. Wanda’s fingers, still glistening with your arousal, had found a home beneath your skirt and against the base of the plug nestled deep within your ass. You’d only started trying the plugs out a couple weeks ago, but in that span of less than fourteen days they’d become something you adored and hated equally. The deep pleasure that came from constantly feeling full was insatiable and you craved it whenever Natasha pulled it out too soon, but you’ve grown to hate how every soft step shifted it against you perfectly, and especially how no matter which position you attempted to sit in it presses deeper and deeper into you without remorse. Wanda’s fingers circle the crimson red jewel framed between the globes of your ass, cheeks still pink from a spanking you’d received yesterday. The touch is soft, gentle, caring even, but when you think she’s about to pull away and end her little experiment, she taps harshly on the center plug twice, sending sparks of pleasure through your body and into your already fuzzy head. 
“So full for Mommy. Those panties are absolutely ruied, moya lyubov’.” Wanda pulls her hand out of your panties, spinning you back around in her arms and cradling you close to her chest as you shake and try to comprehend the fact that for right now, that simple touch was all you’d be getting. You’d think she almost felt an ounce of sympathy for your desperate form if she wasn’t wearing such a cocky smirk. “You’re being such a good girl, detka. Maybe we should keep you like this, huh? All full and eager to be fucked. Daddy could just bend you over anywhere and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?” Wanda preened into your ear, her words thick with lust and traces of an accent you’ve begun to memorize. You’re not sure whether to nod your head and agree, because it’s true, you’d let Natasha fuck you anywhere she wanted to right now, you’re not oblivious to the fact that she’s packing your favorite strap beneath those denim shorts adorning her toned legs, or to shake your head and beg for her to not let that happen. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive in this state for another couple hours, let alone for however long they deem acceptable. “Huh, answer Mommy, baby. Do you want Mommy to keep you like this forever? Want to be ready to use whenever Mommy and Daddy feel the need to take you?” 
“I-I want you, Mommy.” You pleaded, shaking your head frantically at the suggestion that rolls off of Wanda’s lips like its been imprinted onto the tip of her tongue for decades. The Sokovian smirks, drawing you in closer to her chest and letting her forehead rest against yours, her deep sage eyes peering into your soul with how intensely she stares down at you. 
“You have me, baby.” She soothed your downturned lips with a gentle kiss, her touch soft and smooth yet harboring a lingerance of artificial strawberry chapstick if you thought about her taste long enough. The embrace was fleeting, entirely too short, but it had your head spinning when she pulled away and greeted Natasha who you hadn’t even noticed had come up beside you. “Come on,” Wanda patted your ass deliberately, jostling the plug just softly enough to have you hyper aware of its presence but not earning pleasure. “we still have a couple of stores to hit.” 
“I was thinking we stop by that store you like, ducky. We can see if they have any of those little pins you were talking about?” Natasha places a firm hand on your back, her eyes kind but tinted with lust that has settled deep within her stare permanently since Wanda wiggled the plug between your cheeks. There’s a hint of knowingness in her smile, an indication that she knows perfectly well what had just happened between you and her wife. 
The proposition of spending another handful of hours surrounded by incompetent strangers with no regard for others and continuous sounds that blended into static chatter didn’t sound appealing, but unless you called red, they weren’t taking you home. Reluctantly, you took Natasha’s hand, allowing the lawyer to lead you out of the boutique and toward a store much more your style. Wanda’s hand stayed firm on the small of your back as Natasha took the lead, but your focus had fallen beneath the waves as you surrendered to them entirely. 
-
A desperate whine slipped past your lips as Wanda pulled you into her chest, toned arms still warm from the sun wrapping tightly around your torso and keeping you still. The dressing room was saturated in gold plated decor and embellishments, illuminated by a chandelier framed with dazzling crystals worth more than your entire college education. Natasha had dragged the both of you into the high-end designer store with the hopes of them having their new summer collection, and much to your annoyance, they did. The bold colored suits were a powerful statement, she’d look absolutely delectable in them, but that was exactly what you were worried about. The thought of her in a suit so expensive and sleek sent tingles through your belly that couldn’t just be ignored, especially not with your already existing desperation. Wanda wasn’t blind to your frustration, and she smirked wickedly down at you the second Natasha had slipped behind the heavy fitting room door. 
“Shh, Mommy just wants to check.” She whispered against the shell of your ear, a cold hand trailing up the inside of your thigh that is absolutely drenched with arousal. Your eyes burn into hers as you both become controlled by lust, already blown pupils somehow finding additional blackness to manipulate until the color in Wanda’s eyes is entirely vacant. Your bottom lip is bitten and quivering as you feel her fingers start to massage your slick coated folds, a shaky breath at the back of your throat desperate to be unleashed. “Oh, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did Mommy do this to you?” 
You nod shortly at her question, aware of how close the tips of her cold fingers are coming to your clit every time she strokes the length of your folds, but each time they never brush against your stiff and throbbing nerve, merely coming close enough to tease before they’re gone. She circles your entrance repetitively, pressing against it only to pull away seconds later and trail her fingers back down toward the plug, but she never fully grazes that either. She’s content to keep playing with your body like a toy in the middle of the fitting room, her lewd actions have entirely drowned out the sounds of Natasha throwing different articles of clothes around in the dressing room just a few feet behind you, your focus entirely on her and the sensations she’s provoking cautiously. 
“Oh she did? Mommy did this? What a little slut, getting so worked up and Mommy’s not even touching you fully. You’re so easy, dorogaya” Wanda continues to tease condescendingly, giving you not a single second of relief as she digs her fingers harder into your cunt on the last swipe across your panties before she’s hooking her fingers into the waistband and tugging them down. 
Your eyes go wide as you look up at her fully, your shoulders tensing as she keeps tugging the soiled garment down your thighs. “W-What are you doing?” Your skirt is short, it’s flowy and it’s thin but that was Natasha’s entire goal when she dressed you that morning. You know that despite the length every intimate part of your body is covered, but you weren’t prepared to challenge the wind once you stepped outside again. 
“Color?” Wanda stops her movements, her voice soft and kind as she keeps her eyes on you. Everything before this point had been a discussion that you’d had time to prepare yourself for, but this was unplanned and admittedly terrifying, and yet your belly clenched at the prospect of her undressing you in a public space and forcing you to walk around with no barrier to catch your arousal. 
“G-Green.” You mumbled back at her once you’d taken a second to collect your thoughts and swallow your shock. Wanda nodded curtly before she slipped right back into her role, eyes hard and jaw clenched as she continued pulling your panties down before tapping your thigh in a silent demand for you to step out of them. 
“Then stop talking and let Mommy do what she wants.”  Her voice was hard, leaving no space for you to argue, but you weren’t going to. You stepped out of your panties with a gentle wince, feeling their dampness against your shins before the sensation was gone entirely and Wanda was holding them up to the light to inspect. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation, watching her fingers swipe across the soaked material before she hummed and folded them up, shoving them into her back pocket like they were just a piece of paper she’d found on the ground. “Good girl.” 
You bristled beneath her praise, but your attention drifted away from her when you heard the door unlock and Natasha’s soft footsteps came stepping out slowly. There was no question about whether she had heard the entire exchange, but you had no time to pay attention to her cheeks flush with need as you drank in the sight of her in a hundred thousand dollar suit. If your eyes weren’t already blown wide with lust, they certainly were now as you gawked at her defined biceps and breasts, the suit drowning some of her more prominent features but highly accentuating others. A rippled whine fell off your tongue as your eyes memorized the sight, but so badly you wanted to rip it off her body and drag her home to appreciate her fully. 
“P-Please.” You just barely got the plea off of your lips as Wanda sparked up a conversation with her wife, commenting on the fit of the suit before she began her shower of compliments and praise. You’d gone ignored, or maybe they just hadn’t heard you, whatever the reason for their silence toward you, it only frustrated you further. “Daddy please!” You tried again, eyes wet and pleading as you held onto the little attention Natasha was providing you as her eyes danced away from Wanda’s and found yours beneath the bright LED lights. 
“Shh.” Wanda scolded, a finger coming up to sit on your lips as she turned her head to glare at you. It wasn’t intentional, but your lips had done it anyway. The second her finger, still soft from your arousal, brushed against your lips, you’d let your tongue poke out and lick at her finger, able to identify the traces of you that clung to her skin despite how she’d wiped her fingers clean on your outer thigh. Your lips wrapped around the digit, suckling and biting sweetly as the blanket over your mind became thicker and warmer. Wanda didn’t stop you, merely returned her attention to Natasha before the Russian nodded and disappeared back into the fitting room, hopefully changing back into her own clothes. “Mommy needs that back, little one.” Wanda said softly, gently easing her finger from between your lips when it became apparent that you weren’t going to relinquish it yourself. A pitiful whine came falling off the tip of your tongue when she pulled it away, but she merely smiled sweetly and kissed the top of your head. “Come on, Daddy’s gonna check out and then we’re going to go home.” 
You shook your head, absolutely appalled at the suggestion that you’d have to wait until you arrived home to get what you wanted. The mall wasn’t far, but an hour was a long time for someone who had been teased and dragged along relentlessly since the sun had first kissed the gravel paths that weaved and winded through Westview. 
“No?” Wanda furrowed her brows, looking down at you with nothing but softness in her still black and lust filled stare. She’d dropped the condescending tone, abandoned the fleeting touches and teasing, but the only thing that would fully cure the arousal in her eyes was getting a taste of your sweet pussy. 
The words felt heavy on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t last another hour without release, and so they found their way off of your lips before you could panic about the implications of your request, “Fuck me now.” 
Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but that look of shock that claimed her strong features had quickly become something sinister as she stepped closer to you, invading your personal space and allowed you the slightest tinge of her perfume as her chest came flush with yours and she let a single finger tilt your head upward to meet her heavy stare. “Yeah? You want your Daddy to put that strap to use and treat you like a filthy little slut where anyone can hear you crying out in pleasure? You want an audience, moya utenok?” 
A whimper filled the dressing room as your thighs pressed together, your lack of panties leaving the rush of arousal to drip nowhere by your thighs as you writhed beneath Wanda. A soft nod came next, and Wanda smirked proudly, mimicking your gesture before she stepped away entirely and turned her attention back to Natasha who had only just left the dressing room with the suit thrown over her forearm. 
“Hurry up, moya lyubov’. The little slut wants her Daddy to fuck her and who am I to say no to that?” Wanda taunted, grabbing your hand and leading you back out into the store, letting Natasha check out in peace as she occupied you with whispered promises of how the Russian was going to absolutely ruin you where anyone was around to watch. 
-
The only saving grace about Natasha’s car were the tinted windows that blocked out the eyes of anyone who dared to even get close to the Stingray. The seat was drenched in your arousal, thighs spread wide as you occupied almost the entire strip of leather. She’d need to clean the seats thoroughly when you got home, but for right now, neither of you cared. Your hands sunk into the cushioned row of seats as you pressed your ass out further, back arched and muscles strained as you dropped your forehead onto the window and watched with slitted eyes as your breath fogged up the glass. Wanda watched from the passenger seat, green eyes trained on your desperate form that reflected off the rearview mirror pointed downward. Natasha was pressed up against the door, shorts unzipped and hanging loosely over her hip bones as the strap stood at full attention, no longer confined beneath the stiff denim. 
Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, ass and thighs already red from various hits and spanks that the Russian had laid upon your ivory skin. She’d yet to touch you, but each hit that rocked the plug in your ass sent you reeling closer and closer to ultimate pleasure. All you could make out was white spots as they danced along your vision and intercepted the view of strangers and cars wrecking havoc in the parking lot around you. Even when a middle aged man and his wife had gotten close to the car, shopping bags in each of their hands that you could only assume was a pending return, you hadn’t focused much on what they could see from the outside. Your focus was entirely on Natasha, and yet the lawyer hadn’t done anything since bending you over. 
“D-Daddy please! I need you so bad! Please!” You cried out in desperation, back arching further as your nipples grazed the seats, your ass grinding against the strap that she refused to shove into you just yet. What she was waiting for, you didn’t know, but every agonizing second that passed was becoming longer and longer as you waited for relief to wash over you fully. Only she could get you to that point, and yet no matter how much you pleaded with her she didn’t cave. “P-Please!” A strangled cry slipped past your lips when her hand found your ass and her thumb pressed firmly on the jeweled plug nestled between your cheeks. 
“Shh.” The Russian coos. It’s the first sound that’s come to fill the car that wasn’t your own since she had aggressively shoved you into the backseat, and you greedily drink in the unspoken promise that what you want is coming soon. You have no time to prepare yourself for the intrusion of her strap as it slips between your folds and finds a home within your cunt in seconds, but you gasp so sweetly that Natasha doesn’t stop to give you a moment to adjust to the wide girth that’s splitting you open. You’ve wanted this for hours, she’s in no mood to drag your pleasure out any further, having already tested her own patience as she waited for Wanda’s silent permission to begin. You’d been oblivious to the curt nod that was given by the Sokovian, but as much as the game was in Natasha’s hands now, Wanda still held all the cards. “Do you feel that, malyshka? Feel Daddy’s cock splitting you open? Filling this slutty little pussy where anyone can see if they come close enough. I bet you’re so full. This pretty little plug has been driving you crazy all day, hasn’t it? Mommy picked out such a pretty color for you.” As the words drive you farther and farther into pleasure and submission, Natasha’s thumb presses against the plug and sends your mind spiraling downward into a sea of static energy. There’s a thick ringing in your ears that forces your mind to go blank, your hips that had been stuttering against her quick thrusts stilling as you surrendered your body to her control, willing to take whatever she gave you in this very moment. 
Natasha’s thrusts only grow faster as your moans and whines become softer and sweeter, desperation not only evident in the way your arousal soaks your thighs and the seats, but in the pitch of your moans as they fill the car and ricochet off the windows. You don’t have it in you to feel embarrassed by how loud you’re being, your only focus is taking the pleasure and not letting it slip away again. A broken cry leaves your lips as Natasha’s hand finds your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub as she winds you tighter and tighter. Her own thrusts are becoming choppy and quick, groans of pleasure harmonizing with yours until the entire car is just an explicit symphony of intimacy. Wanda’s eyes haven’t left you once, but you can’t see her with the way you’re bent and arched over. Natasha can, and she curses beautiful in Russian as she gives you the green light to let go. 
“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Cum on Daddy’s strap.” She encourages gently, her thrusts growing harsher as she chases her own pleasure and orgasms with a delicate moan, though it's quickly drowned out by your own sobs and cries of bliss as you writhe beneath her heavy hands and let the coil snap in your belly. Your body shakes in the aftermath, arms giving out on you as you crash against the leather seats and subsequently pull your cunt off of her strap, the glistening material catching rays of sunlight before she quickly tucks it back into her shorts and zips them up. “You did so good for us, malyshka. So so good.” Natasha kisses the bottom of your spine, her fingers working on the plug in your ass simultaneously. Wanda maneuvered herself in the passenger seat, her hand reaching out to just barely brush against your upper back as well. “Relax for me, angel. Let Daddy take this plug out and then we’ll go home.” She talks you through the process, but nothing prepares you for how empty you feel when the metal is no longer flush against your walls keeping you full. A strangled whimper falls off your lips before it’s gently drowned out by shushing and shuffling. Natasha, unwilling to let you go through aftercare in a crowded parking lot all twisted up, opens the door and steps out of the car, nodding for Wanda to occupy a seat in the back beside you. “Mommy’s gonna sit back here with you, and Daddy’s gonna take us home. Just let go, honey. It’s all okay.” 
It doesn’t take longer than five minutes for Wanda to be sat beside you, your body curled up into her chest and void of a seatbelt. Typically she’d scold you for such a behavior, but all she does now is hold you tighter and kiss your head, promising that you’ll be home soon and there will be plenty of cuddles and kisses all wrapped up beneath the heavy blankets on the bed.
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prettygiri222 · 4 months
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Summary: At your boyfriend Onyankopon's backyard pool, what could happen?
Onyankopon x Black Fem Reader SMUT
“girl I wanna handle you, put my hands up on you, baby…” you softly sang while scrolling through your boyfriend Onyankopon’s phone. you were in your own little world, lightly swaying in the water of his backyard pool as you queued up music. you were wearing a sparkly pink bikini that left very little to the imagination, Onya feared that during any little movement, your tits would spill out.
you and Onya hadn’t gone very far in your relationship, the most you’ve done so far was heated make-out sessions. you were a shy little thing when Onya first met you so he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable. he opted to smoke a blunt to calm his nerves tonight, he asked if you wanted a hit but you said no. 
instead of feeling relaxed, he became hyper-aware of your second lips slipping out of your bikini. he was trying his best to be respectful and not look but it was so hard, especially when you bent over to shake your ass, making waves in the water when your favourite songs came on.
you were taking sneak peeks at Onya as he smoked on the other side of the pool not wanting you to get a “second hand” high. but the herbal scent still wafted close. your man was so fine, he had a freshly done taper fade that exposed his chiselled jaw. his chest tattoo was on full display and his neck was decorated with a gold chain that held your initials in cursive with a little heart. the reflection of light off of the pool gave his dark skin a glowing hue. 
you could feel yourself grow wetter in the pool, your fluid tainting your boyfriend's pool. you looked back down at the phone to distract yourself. but you couldn't help but want to relieve the feeling.
Onya watched you with the gaze of a hunter stalking its prey. he wanted to know what you tasted like, you always filled his nostrils with the sweet scent of cocoa butter. he imagined that you would taste no different. 
“when you gon let me eat you out babygirl?” Onya’s husky voice echoed in the empty backyard. your eyes widened in shock at his blunt statement but the words went straight to your core. Onya shocked himself as well, he was thinking about it but he he wasn’t going to say it. you slowly turned around to look at your boyfriend seeing him put out the end of his blunt, he said it so he was gonna stand on it.
“Onya! what are you…” you stopped mid-sentence making eye contact with his red eyes. he was manspreading on the edge of the pool, his wet trunks sticking to his skin exposing his boner but he wasn’t ashamed. he followed your eyes smiling when he found what you were looking at. he jumped into the pool and slowly made his way over to you, holding eye contact till he got too close and you broke it. you looked to the side nervously, your lower stomach was doing flips.
“you ain’t hear what I said?” his usual deep voice sounded hoarse as he whispered in your ear. he pulled back to look at you, loving the way you were turning into putty without him even touching you. you guys were so close but so far, you backed into the wall when Onya came close but he had you trapped now. he let his question hang in the air waiting for your answer.
“I did” you whispered, still avoiding eye contact. he didn’t even have to touch you and you were already losing it. you wanted him so bad, but you were speechless. the tension was so thick it was suffocating.
“you gon let me have a taste?” he asked. you nodded your head, biting your lip. finally, given the green light he’s been looking for, Onya pounced on you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. he took your ass in his palms, groping you as he pulled you closer. you gasped into the kiss and he used the opportunity to slither his tongue into your mouth. you closed your eyes and wrapped your hands around his neck pulling him in deeper, feeling your tongues mould together.
the spicy taste of the weed was present in his mouth but there was an underlying sweetness of the honey candy he was always sucking. without breaking the kiss Onya grabbed you by the thighs and pulled you onto the ledge of the pool, situating him in between your legs as he stood tall in the pool. he took the chance to grind into you, feeling you melt into the kiss. 
your boyfriend's tongue gently sucked on yours swallowing up your moans, it wasn't long till you were out of breath. he felt you pulling back but he grabbed you by the back of the neck so you couldn’t break this kiss. his other hand moved to play with the strings of your bikini at your hips, slowly untying them. 
only when he started feeling you gasp for breath he pulled back, breaking the string of saliva between your lips. you looked up at him with blown-out pupils and the view went straight to his dick, your soft lips swollen, your perky nipples from the cool air, your brown skin glistening and the invisible locs that framed your sculpted face. you were perfect in his eyes.
Onya bit his big plump lips as he peeled your bikini off, he was salivating at the thought of finally seeing lil ma. but before he could reveal her you grabbed onto his strong arms and closed your legs.
“wait Onya!” he rolled his eyes but waited for you to speak. “we’re outside, what if one of your neighbours sees us?” you didn’t really care about his neighbours if you were being honest, you just wanted a second to breathe. you’ve never had a guy go down on you so you didn’t know what to expect and you were a little nervous.
Onya didn’t say anything as he got out of the pool beside you and walked over to the towels on the lawn chairs. you looked at his back in worry, did you make him mad? you watched silently as he walked back over to you with an intense burning in his eyes. he wrapped the towel over your wet body before picking you and your discarded bikini up.
you wrapped your legs around his waist shivering at the feeling of the cold night air against your exposed core and his hard-on rubbing against your stomach. he kicked open the glass door and hastily made his way across the living room and into his bedroom. he dropped you softly onto the bed, briefly exposing your lower half before you fixed the towel.
“is this better?” he looked deep into your eyes trying to sense any discomfort. you shuffled under the intensity of his gaze. Onyankopon was always such a gentleman, no matter how heated things got he never went further if you didn’t want to. but you were getting a bit frustrated, it’s not that you never wanted things to go further you just didn’t know how to initiate things. 
“I need to hear you say yes baby,” he asked, sensing your hesitation. despite his demeanour, Onya was slowly losing it, he wanted you, no, he needed you. he was desperate to get a taste of you at this point if you said no he could see himself getting on his knees to beg.
“I want you, Onya,” you affirmed, holding his gaze. your boyfriend didn’t waste any more time. he dropped to his knees on the floor and grabbed you by the ankles to pull you toward the end of his king size bed. he was moving like a starved man, he made quick work of the towel and your bra leaving you exposed. but he couldn’t help but stare at you in awe, his beautiful girlfriend bare before him.
“stop staring, it’s embarrassing.” you lightly kicked his shoulder to get him out of his trance. he was staring at your naked body for so long you were starting to feel a little self-conscious. his gaze was intense, you could see the yearning in his deep brown eyes.
“you’re so beautiful, I can't help it.” he smiled up at you before he got to work. Onya grabbed the underneath of your thighs and pushed them up so they were out of the way. exposing your glistening two toned lips. 
“shit, you ever touch yourself down here?” Onya hissed looking at your tiny hole. his dick jumped at the sight but he didn't think he would be able to fuck it tonight. it would be a tight fit. he would have to stretch you out and get you used to something smaller first, like his fingers.
“when I think about you,” you airly confessed. you looked up at the ceiling thinking of the countless nights after Onya dropped you home after hours of steamy makeout sessions that led to nothing. where his hands would ghost over your zipper unaware of your throbbing core desperate for his touch. how the thick material of his jeans prevented you from feeling his dick.
when you got home you would busy yourself playing with your little bud. imagining how Onya would fuck you, how he'd fill you up so well. on the days your dripping cunt miserably clenched around nothing, you would shove a finger or two to fulfil your fantasy of your boyfriend pounding into you. 
“so you've been holding out on me?” Onya kept a steady hold on your plush thighs while he spread your lips with his right. he was able to witness the clear fluid gushing out of you. he dragged his forefinger around your hole collecting the liquid before pushing his middle finger past your tight muscle. “that's not very nice.”
“Onyaaa” you squealed out gripping the sheets.
“your fucking leaking babygirl” after giving you time to adjust he slowly inserted his ring finger. he loved the way your pink hole readily sucked him in, contrasting against your brown lips. “you a squirter? or you cream?”
“don't know” Onyankopon’s well-manicured fingers were prodding at spots your small fingers couldn’t reach. it had you twisting and turning in the sheets not knowing if you wanted to run away from the onslaught of pleasure or invite more. 
“guess we'll both find out,” Onya loved how sensitive you were. when he pulled his fingers out your hips chased after. you let out airy moans and high-pitched mewls when he nudged your delicate spots. 
Onyakopon looked up at you relishing in your beauty. your eyes were locked on him now but he could tell you were out of it. your brows were burrowing as you concentrated on the budding sensation on your lower abdomen.
you could feel him spreading you, he was doing a scissoring motion inside you. before you felt him slip a third finger into your dripping wet cunt. this felt way better than when you touched yourself alone.
now able to move his wrists more freely, Onyankopon started to curl his fingers against the roof of your core. goading out more of your translucent sap when he pushed in and out. the sounds of your wetness were mixing in with your moans.
his fingers were drenched. he was drooling just looking at it, he needed to have a taste. this time when he pulled out he removed his hands completely but it was replaced with a warm, wet feeling. you knew immediately that it was his tongue.
“mhmm,” your boyfriend let out a guttural moan at the taste of you. you were like a cold sweet lemonade after a long day of hard work in the sun, delicious. after he delivered a few kitten licks to your slit lapping up your slick he knew he was addicted and craved more.
“i'ma get it wet like a jacuzzi, and sex with me so amazing” rihanna’s song softly rang through the house from the speaker your boyfriend left playing outside due to his haste. but boy was it an understatement.
“ohmygod, Onya!” your hands found themselves on his head when he started suckling at your clit. you were grinding against his open mouth turning into putty from the mind-numbing pleasure. 
“don’t stop, please!” you cried out even though he showed no signs of slowing or stopping. he licked from your hole to slit, sometimes dipping his wet muscle in to tongue-fuck you. the way you clenched around it was enough to tell him you were close.
“wasn't planning on it, just hold on for me ok baby?” Onya didn’t give you any time to process what he said before he inserted his fingers back into your soaking pussy. his lips still attached to your swollen nub giving you the best of both worlds. the onslaught of pleasure quickly had your legs begin to shake. 
your hands locked into his short kinks grabbing at what you could. “m close, so close Onya” you were fiercely grinding into his face now. Onya loved it, you were using his face to get off like a fucking toy. your eyes were screwed shut as you focused on reaching your peak. you were so close you could taste it. “mhm mhm”
“can I cum Onya? pretty please?” Onyankopon thought it was cute that you thought you needed his permission to cum. even in your desperation, you were being such a good girl for him. so who was he to deny his sweet princess?
“uh huh” Onya didn’t bother to remove his lips to reply, busying himself with your clit while his fingers plunged into your throbbing cunt. the little vibration was enough to send you over the edge. and you plummeted hard.
“Onyaaa” you squealed out as the pleasure flooded your body. leaving your limbs trembling in its wake. “fuck fuck!” Onyankopon removed his mouth from your pulsating clit but focused on riding you through your orgasm with his fingers.
“shit, you do both” Onya ogled at his hands. when he pulled his fingers out they were covered in a creamy white paste. but still, a colourless liquid gushing out from your gaping hole. your empty whole was quivering at the loss of his fingers. your body let out little hiccups in attempt to calm itself.
“Onya…” you opened your eyes to see your boyfriend stuffing his fingers into his mouth. despite your previous orgasm, you felt yourself get wet again watching him lick and suck at the fingers he had shoved in you just a moment ago. 
“I can't help myself, you just taste so good.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
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Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING
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Pairing: Gojo x reader (fem!pronouns)
Word Count: 1,2k
Synopsis: Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...
Warnings: this is fluffness overload so be prepared, (y/n) has a really bubbly and Mitsuri-like personality, let me know what you thiiiiink and enjoy your holidays🤍
Your heart jumps up and down in joy, feet carrying you down the hallway at lightspeed. Finally he’s back. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? Definitely too long.
“Satoru!”, you cry out.
There he stands, his arms already wide open while wearing the casual sly grin you adore so much. You can’t contain yourself any longer, your giggles filling his very own heart with nothing but joy.
Satoru doesn’t remember exactly how it all started. After some random mission, he saw a little figure of your favourite animal standing innocently in a show window. He didn’t think much of it, bought it only because it reminded him of you. But oh, you were so joyful back then.
“Are you kidding me?”, you breathed out, glossy eyes staring at the pretty ugly figure so heartfelt that Satoru couldn’t help but shamelessly stare at you.
“It reminded me of you since I know it’s your favourite animal, so yeah…You like it?”
“Like it?”
You grabbed his hands with so much passion that he almost fell backwards, jumping up and down in delight.
“I love it, Satoru! This is probably the nicest thing someone ever did for me!”
It was inevitable from there on. The urge to see your heartfelt joy after every mission became an obsession, forcing him to look into every window, into every shop on the haunt for something you might like. To be honest it made everything more bearable. The loss of his best friend, the people around him dying, all the things that keep him up at night seem to disappear when he’s looking for souvenirs to bring you.
And this.
You almost knock him over by the way you let yourself fall into his arms, hands intertwined behind his back just the way he likes it. Oh, your smell is so intoxicating, as well as your gorgeous appearance sends warm shivers down his spine. How is it even possible that you seem to get more and more breath-taking every time he sees you?
“I was so worried about you! Why didn’t you answer your calls?”, you mumble against the fabric of his uniform, instantly greeted by the singing smell of curses.
“Oh y’know, I had to do a little work from now and then. Like killing off some demons and saving a whole town from getting wiped out. So sorry I didn’t call you back”, he teases you gently.
“That didn’t stop me from getting something for you, though…”
Your eyes widen in sheer excitement, head darting towards him instantly.
“No, you didn’t”, you mutter, lips already forming the most adorable smile.
“Heck yeah I did.”
“I told you over and over that you don’t need to do that, Satoru!”
“Do you like them?”
You bite your lip in a miserable attempt to suppress the wide grin that creeps up your face, cheeks turning the shade of pink that makes Satoru lose his mind.  You are so breath-taking, so pure that it warms his heart.
“Of course I do”, you mumble into your hand.
“There you go.”
He hands you a small box, the brush of his tender touch against your hand sending electricity right through your body. With trembling fingers, you open the light blue ribbon wrapped around it, exposing a simple yet stunning necklace. You desperately try to hold back tears, so moved that you are utterly speechless.
This necklace isn’t this simple. No, engraved into it in Satoru’s iconic handwriting, it says “every thought, you”.
“You can’t be serious about this, Satoru. I really don’t deserve this.”
“You deserve this and even more, (y/n). Do you like it?”
“You ask me if I like it?”, you repeat breathless.
Your finger brushes over the engraving carefully, feeling every curve and every stroke of his elegant hand writing. This must have been expensive – way too expensive for a simple souvenir. But oh how much you love it already, you’ll keep this close to your heart day in and day out.
“I love it. Thank you so much.”
There’s no time to waste. With a swift motion you lunge yourself at him all over again, burying your face against his broad chest. You truly don’t deserve his kindness, his affection. What an outstanding man he is, so tender that it makes you tear up.
“I’d do anything to make you smile”, he mutters into your hair, hands stroking your back ever so gently.
Smile…Oh, you almost forgot!
“Would you…Would you mind coming to my dorm for a second? There’s something I want to give you as well.”
You wipe your tears away unladylike, your hand grabbing his before he’s even able to answer your question.
“Something you want to give to me? Remember when I told you you don’t have to buy me anything?”
“Remember when I told you the same?”, you remark with a slight grin, literally dragging him into your room.
In fact, you stumbled upon this cute figure of a white cat the other day. There was no way you’d leave without buying it, not when it reminded you so much of him.
You swing your drawer open without thinking twice, grabbing the cute little cat with your face glowing in proud.
“Okay, now that’s adorable”, Satoru laughs gently.
Somehow, his eyes get stuck on your drawer though. It looks messy, almost flooding over with all the pieced cramped into it. But no, that isn’t some random rubbish. That figure that stands in the middle of it, it looks so familiar. As well as all those letters, the sweets, the postcards…
It dawns to him, heart skipping a beat. These are all the souvenirs he brought you over the last few years.
“Don’t tell me you kept everything I gave you.”
Oh, please tell him you did.
“Huh?”
Your innocent eyes dart towards the drawer behind you, your cheeks instantly heating up all over again.
“Oh…of course I kept them! Why would I ever throw them away?”
“You even kept the packages of the sweets from last months…”
His heart almost overspills with love. You have to be an angel, too pure and kind for this world. Just one look into your tender eyes is enough to sweep him off his feet, the little cat he holds in his hand sending him over the edge.
“I just love to get reminded of you I guess.”
“And I love you, (y/n). You have to be the most precious human being I’ve ever met.”
The way your eyes widen and your mouth shoots open is priceless. You look so utterly surprised that he can’t help but chuckle while wrapping his strong arms around you all over again.
“Y-you, loving me?”, you stutter.
“Well, I was hoping you’d love me too-“
“I do”, you interrupt him immediately.
“I love you more than any souvenir!”, you babble out.
“That’s what a man needs to hear”, he laughs softly.
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @chilichopsticks
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too-deviant · 1 month
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jackie and wilson.
previous | next series masterlist
summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.
pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
word count: 4.1k
content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour 
notes:  speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge
the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00
PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild 
All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well. 
Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours. 
Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 
The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it. 
After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss. 
Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster. 
You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty. 
Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”
You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse. 
The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp. 
Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got. 
Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery. 
It was cute. 
Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley. 
Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over. 
The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan. 
He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.
His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name. 
He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow. 
You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.” 
He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”
Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.” 
Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”
“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.” 
He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion. 
“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.” 
“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.” 
You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”
“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly. 
“And that?” 
“The Amphitheatre.”
You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did. 
You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”
That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”
You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”
Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face! 
You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered. 
During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp. 
(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)
Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill. 
Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day. 
But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go. 
When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked. 
“Hey, now we can match. How cute.” 
He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”
“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response. 
But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes. 
Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet. 
The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable. 
But you really needed to pee. 
After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door. 
“That’s not your bathroom.”
You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke. 
Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”
“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”
“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”
“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”
“Yes.”
“But…it’s cold out there.”
“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”
You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!” 
He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up. 
“Be quick.” 
Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed. 
You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan. 
“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”
“And then what happened?”
“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”
You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence. 
When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”
“I’m showing you around today.”
“You showed me around yesterday.”
His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”
“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”
“Archery.” 
Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour. 
“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.” 
Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.” 
You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t. 
He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”
You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater. 
You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”
“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”
You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “
Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”
He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”
You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be. 
“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).
You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off. 
It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close. 
“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”
“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” 
You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion. 
“So, where are you from?”
He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe. 
You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”
Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!
Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything. 
“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”
You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.” 
He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse. 
“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”
A chuckle, “What?”
But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?” 
You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.” 
“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”
You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on. 
“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”
Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”
Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”
You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation. 
You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”
You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow. 
“What’d you do to him?”
You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”
He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”
You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.
852 notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 7 months
Text
Bite Marks & Bruises (Roman Godfrey x Reader)
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WARNINGS: NON-CON, stalking, period sex + consumption, blood, compulsion
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​
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summary: Roman Godfrey is spoiled and arrogant and rude...and he gets whatever he wants.
~
Your life was over the first moment you stepped into The Godfrey Mansion.
The dark, gothic, and imposing structure was a staple in Hemlock Grove for as long as you could remember, countless stories being passed around at sleepovers about all manner of horrors and mysteries that probably took place in the home. Tales of shadowy figures and howling wolves and low moaning wails like whispers on the wind. None of it was true, of course, lies made up by overimaginative girls with too much time on their hands, driven to pass around falsities out of an unquenched desire to see what the infamous house was really like.
As you got older, such stories became silly to you, aware that it was just a home like any other owned by some rich woman like any other. All of its intrigue lay in its exclusivity, its secretiveness, and with maturity came the lessening desire to see inside some fancy old home. Even as you walked the halls with its inhabitants—Shelley and Roman Godfrey—the Godfrey mansion was just something you thought about less and less.
Until about six months after you graduated.
…and Olivia Godfrey was offering you substantial compensation to tutor her daughter.
It wasn’t an answer that required a lot of thought on your end. After all, you would be relaxing in a beautiful mansion and helping some seventeen-year-old with her homework while getting paid for it. With no desire—and no money—to jet off to college anytime soon, it seemed like an obvious choice. Those silly stories that you and your friends would tell each other under the cover of darkness behind closed bedroom doors were the farthest thing from your mind.
It was cold the first day you walked to The Godfrey Mansion.
It was the middle of November in Pennsylvania—air biting, leaves crunchy, and breeze gentle. Olivia Godfrey greeted you with a smile, her dark hair looking like midnight against her fair skin. The mother of two didn’t look a day over thirty, and you remembered staring at her, feeling so hypnotized by her beauty and wondering how she was old enough to have two children of graduating age. Her thin statuesque frame swayed gently with her every step, hands gingerly flailing about as she gave you the grand tour.
“All of her tutoring will take place up in her room,” she told you, tone rich and poised. “Shelley is so very particular about her space…and I’m trusting you.”
That last comment was said slowly, and she turned to face you as she said it, hands clasped together as her umber eyes connected with yours. Silence followed, and you didn’t need to be a genius to know what she was getting at. You recalled how the kids at school would treat Shelley, how they would simultaneously fear and torment her. Her daughter was protective of her space, she was protective of her daughter, and she was allowing you access to both.
“I understand,” you eventually forced out, nodding.
It was quick, but her cold visage transformed almost instantly, that ever-polite smile on her pink lips. In no time, Olivia Godfrey had turned back around and was continuing to lead you through the mansion. She droned on about the different rooms, making a point to comment on your chances of getting lost should you need to use the bathroom or something.
“Shelley must get all of her rest as growing teens do, so you won’t be staying all hours of the night, but you will be welcome to join us for dinner should you ever choose to.”
You didn’t know if you’d ever take her up on the offer, but you welcomed the polite invite, nonetheless.
You’d been tutoring Shelley for four days when you finally came face to face with him. Roman Godfrey—tall and spoiled and possessing the kind of face every girl you knew would gush over. You’d been in the same graduating class, but you were sure that you’d never talked to Roman once, not until you were in his house and eating his food, at least. You recalled walking to and from school most days, your gaze catching sight of that bright red convertible.
Since graduating, you didn’t see it as much.
After reuniting in his dining room…you saw it all the time.
“Sweetheart, you remember Y/N, don’t you?” Olivia’s articulate speech filled the air as soon as her son stepped through the threshold. “I believe she graduated with you last year.”
She continued after looking to you for confirmation, smiling at her son when you nodded.
“She’s been tutoring Shelley, and she finally took me up on my offer to join us for dinner.”
The dark-haired teenager didn’t say a word at first, slowly making his way to the table. You had never known Roman to look…bad, always dressed immaculate even while wearing the simplest of things. Shelley—a much more outgoing individual than you’d initially believed—had smiled at her brother with his approach. Their mother had started up an entirely different conversation, one you tried to be involved in, but you felt trapped by Roman’s gaze instead.
If you thought Olivia Godfrey was hypnotizing and entrancing in every way, then Roman Godfrey was absolutely paralyzing.
It was hard to look away from him, trying everything in your power to but failing every time. His dark hair was neat and pushed away from his face, perfect and put together even within the privacy of his home. His green eyes didn’t look so green, and you wondered if it was the lighting in the dining room…or something else entirely. When he finally made himself comfortable next to Shelley and diagonal from you, only then did you find the strength to lower your gaze to your food.
Dinner was a talkative affair, Olivia dominating the conversation with the occasional commentary from her son. She pulled you into the dialogue here and there, but with an oppressing gaze weighing down on you, you felt…restricted. It was purely all in your head, you knew that, but you couldn’t fight the thought that Roman was watching your every move—judging you.
You really could not get out of the house fast enough when dinner was over, hoping that your sudden skittishness was not noticeable. Roman’s gaze was something you felt on you even as you insisted you’d make it home just fine. Olivia didn’t fight you too much on it, and you were grateful, and the darkness that met you was somehow less terrifying than vibrant green eyes. It wasn’t until the next day when you realized that Roman wasn’t judging you, at all.
What he was doing was much worse.
“I really don’t mind walking.”
You told him this as he sat in your driveway, that familiar fancy red car taking up residence in it. The sun was out, and he was wearing shades and a thick jacket that made him appear bigger than he actually was. His jaw slowly moved, some gum in his mouth you presumed, and after a moment or two, he slowly turned his head to stare directly at you. Your eyes briefly glanced at his tapping finger against the wheel.
“You’re tutoring Shelley. Why would I make you walk all the way to our house when it’s not like I have anything better to do, anyway?”
He said it so flippantly, almost like this whole ordeal annoyed him, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that his mother made him park in your driveway. However, Roman never struck you as the kind of guy to do something he didn’t want to do, so his attitude only served to confuse you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew they were fixated on you.
You could feel the heat of them despite the cold air that surrounded you.
After some time of your short impasse, a slow smirk danced along his lips.
“I could always make you…”
His voice was low, and there was something mirthful in his tone, like the idea of dragging you and forcing you into his fancy car was an entertaining one. Something in you told you that he would despite what you wanted to believe, and something else told you that he’d enjoy it very much. With that thought and a sigh, you finally conceded and made your way to his passenger side.
His eyes remained on you the whole way there.
The ride was quiet, the walk from his car to the door even quieter.
Olivia’s voice rang through the house, inquiring as to if that was him coming through the door. The sound of his voice was answer enough, and you looked away from him when he slowly took off his shades.
“…and Y/N.”
Something about the sound of your name coming from his lips unnerved you. It didn’t exactly roll off of his tongue, something mocking in the way he said it, and you stared straight ahead as you walked down the hall in search of Shelley. You didn’t dare look back, afraid of what might be gaining on you.
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Roman was the kind of guy that was impossible to ignore. Not only because he was just that imposing, but also because he simply wouldn’t let you. You’d gone to school with him for years, and it wasn’t until you both graduated did you learn that he was needy and constant in his want for attention. He was disturbingly honest, vulnerable to his desire to say the first thing on his mind no matter how inappropriate.
…and he was determined to get what he wanted once he decided he wanted it.
“So what? You didn’t want to fuck off out of this town and go to college or something?”
He asked you one day as you relaxed—as best as you could within his presence, anyway—in the passenger seat of his car. He wasn’t wearing his shades, and you almost missed them when you looked over to meet his green gaze. It was so intense, and there were moments where you were sure that Roman could see right through you.
“Don’t know what I would go for,” you replied, the cold air whipping against your face.
You could feel him looking at you as you stared through the windshield, and you got the feeling that he wanted you to elaborate on that. Even if you did know how to talk to Roman, you still wouldn’t. He made you uncomfortable in ways you couldn’t even explain, and the worst thing you did was allow him to know that.
There always seemed to be some sick pleasure in his eyes, the green of them glinting with something unknown to you. He watched you like a cat would a mouse, a wolf would a deer, a predator fully amusing itself with the prey it had in its line of reach. Only, Roman wasn’t some predator. He was some guy, you reminded yourself, and you were simply some girl.
At worst, you likened Roman to that of an asshole with too much free time on his hands.
The only person spared from that was his sister.
“You’re good with her,” he commented, turning his car off as it sat in your driveway.
Your hand was on the handle, seconds away from exiting the vehicle when he spoke. His voice had startled you, used to the silence of his unwavering gaze as he watched you exit his car and go into the house. You watched him place a cigarette between his lips, the flame from his lighter brightening his face in the night. The smell of smoke followed soon after.
“Shelley,” he explained, exhaling. “You’re good with her. She likes you.”
You glanced away, squirming in your seat when presented with an actual conversation you could have with the rich boy.
“I like her too. She’s very sweet…and…even funny, sometimes.”
You shrugged when he looked at you, pulling another drag, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you started to feel. You looked away, gaze falling to your purse at your feet, preparing to grab it and wish him a good night when he spoke again.
“My mother thinks I stare at you too much.”
His words shocked you, and your eyes widened when you looked at him again. He wasn’t looking at you, now, smoking and partaking in his cigarette. Your own lips parted, unsure of how to respond to that, and he took another drag, loudly exhaling. Roman had a habit of saying anything that was on his mind, so that wasn’t what shocked you. You were shocked because it wasn’t all in your head…
…and that someone else had noticed too.
“She’s right,” he breathed, gazing at you, now, and you swallowed.
His eyes were taken with the action, lowering and resting on your neck for a few seconds too long. It was late and dark, save for the half moon in the sky, but something in his gaze seemed to shift as he stared at your throat, eyes tracing the very top of your chest before they met yours again.
You swore they weren’t as green, now.
“I do stare,” he murmured, looking away and taking another pull—a final pull—of the cigarette between his fingers. “You’re pretty…and I sometimes wonder if you were this pretty in school.”
You didn’t know if you liked where this conversation was going, straightening and looking away.
“School was only six months ago,” you mumbled, finally speaking after some time. “I can’t possibly look that different.”
Roman chuckled then, and it was a genuine sound, and so you didn’t know if he was laughing at you or himself.
“You’re right,” he relented. “I was probably just too busy fucking cheerleaders and paying already rich girls for sex.”
You grimaced, reaching for your purse, now when he stopped you. You were alarmed by the feel of his hand on your wrist, and when you looked up at him from your leaned over position, it seemed that Roman was somewhat startled by his own actions. Like he’d always entertained the thought but never imagined he’d go through with it. He quickly let you go like you’d burned him, and you slowly sat up as he cleared his throat.
“Shelley’s gonna be hanging out with our uncle tomorrow…” he looked away. “They’re close like that, but… That doesn’t mean I still can’t pick you up.”
He said a whole lot without saying much, and you felt your stomach twist. Roman was used to telling a girl he wanted her and then…well…having her. You’d seen it many times, the way they flocked to him and preened at the opportunity to fuck Roman Godfrey, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive…because he was.
…and he knew it.
Roman scared you. Everything about him seemed designed with the key purpose of repelling you. He was too observant, too sure of himself, too…creepy. These weren’t things you could overlook, and instead of helping him, you were sure that his looks didn’t help your feelings. Roman didn’t look real at times—genetically altered even—and it only made you think there was something…inhuman about him.
Something that told you he wasn’t like you…and you should be wary.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly replied, and you didn’t stick around to look at his face.
You held your purse to you as you got out of his car, and you reluctantly looked at him, your sympathetic gaze meeting his even one.
“I’m just here to tutor Shelley…and…we should probably keep it that way.”
You kept your rejection soft, and you turned away from him before he could reply. You ignored the feel of his gaze boring into your back, wrapping your arms around yourself as some half assed protection against the cold. You couldn’t get in your house fast enough, and you swore that you’d been leaning against the door for at least half an hour, waiting to hear him finally drive off.
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The first night Roman raped you, it was raining.
Storming, to be more specific. It was odd because it was winter, and Pennsylvania was known for its summer storms. It was why you were even at the mansion so late, Roman refusing to drive in the violent downpour and you unable to walk. Olivia seemed to care neither here nor there about the whole thing, almost annoyingly cavalier about your plight.
“Oh, darling, you know how unpredictable a bit of rain can be,” she’d said, a glass of wine in her hand. “There’s no shortage of guest rooms. Find one for the night. I’m sure Roman can be of some help in that department.”
You hadn’t missed her crooked smile, an almost wicked sight as she softly chuckled to herself. She clearly found her son’s attraction to you amusing, harmless even, while you found it uncomfortable at best. Shelley was the one to help you get sorted for the night, visible eye soft and smile even softer as she pointed out where the towels and such would be.
You hadn’t realized you’d forgotten the problem of clothes until you stepped out of the shower to find some on the counter.
You froze at the sight, sure that you hadn’t heard a soul come in. At least…no one who wanted to be heard, and you grimaced before putting them on. Walking the corridors of The Godfrey Mansion with clothes in hand felt weird, and when you made it to your chosen guest bedroom of the night, you still didn’t relax.
Nothing about the mansion was calming, and the raging storm outside only made it worse. You laid in bed for a long time, wide awake and staring at the ceiling, just waiting for your heart to stop racing and your mind to grow quiet. It felt like forever, but it happened, and when it did, you finally felt your lashes flutter.
Sleep was finally yours.
…and then you woke up.
The sharp stabbing pain had you sitting up in bed, hand pressed to your stomach at the ache you felt deep within it. The familiar ache, and you felt your heart sink, wondering how your night could possibly get any worse. You didn’t need to look at the bed to know that you’d left something behind, only searching for your purse, positive you had an extra pad or tampon or something.
Relief filled your heart, and product in hand, you made your way into the hall in search of the bathroom. So focused on your pain and finding the bathroom, you didn’t mind the dark corridor, at all. Any other night, and you might have been hypervigilant with fear, but as it were, you could only focus on stopping any more ruin of the pajamas you’d been given.
It was a noise from behind you that gave you pause, and as you turned around, all those childhood stories about the fearful Godfrey Mansion came to mind. Every manifestation of what goes bump in the night filled your mind, but as you stared into the darkness, darkness was all you were met with. Telling yourself that an old mansion was bound to creak and groan, you turned away.
…and straight into Roman.
His very presence forced a shriek from your lips, and in your panic, your hands pressed to his chest. His bare chest. You didn’t register it, at first, so focused on trying to calm your heart and relax again. Your hands were empty, your saving grace of the night on the floor, and when you took a step back to pick it up, Roman took one forward.
You paused at the action.
“Roman-.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
The question came out somewhat harsh, and you squinted at him in the darkness. It threw you off for several reasons, but mostly because you didn’t understand what he meant. As best as you could make it out in the darkness, his face seemed contorted, pinched actually—eyes narrowed, lips pursed, and gaze riddled with accusations.
“…what? Roman, what are you-.”
Your words died in the air when he forced himself closer, a strange look on his face as he eyed you. You watched his nostrils flare, another step forward from Roman, and you finally took another back. He was so close, too close, and when you blinked, you remembered that you didn’t have time to try and understand Roman tonight. Ignoring him, you reached down, and as soon as your hand was around what you so desperately needed, another hand was coming down on your wrist.
You reacted harshly, flinching and crying out, and you registered that Roman’s grip was actually…painful.
You were both standing now, Roman still holding onto you, and his nose brushed against yours as he leaned in. His hair, normally so neat and perfectly in place, was kissing his forehead. The dark strands were going every which way, and when his lips parted, a soft exhale escaping in time with a flutter of his lashes, only then did you say his name again.
As if waking up from a dream, you watched his eyes focus in on your face, really focus, and it took him some time to let you go.
Your wrist ached, his phantom touch lingering, and you held it to you protectively. You felt that you could really see into Roman’s eyes, now, and the mansion lit up from a brief flash of lightning. His own eyes glinted, and you recalled that the last time you and Roman were this close, he was trying to spend time with you outside of his sister’s tutoring.
…and you’d turned him down.
When he took a step back, he finally spoke again.
“Looking for the bathroom?”
You wondered how he knew that, but you surmised that it was a good guess. After all, it was the middle of the night, and you were roaming the corridors with a tampon in hand. At your nod, he slowly smiled at you, something mocking in it as he reached out to rest a hand on your shoulder.
“It’s over here,” he told you. “You’ll get lost without me.”
His voice was smooth, tone almost gentle, and it was like that awkward and startling moment had never even happened. His touch was light on your arm as he guided you through the darkness, and as uncomfortable as Roman made you, in your predicament, you didn’t have much choice but to follow his lead. The muffled sound of rain was all that surrounded you, and when Roman finally reached what looked like the bathroom, you relaxed.
“They say sex helps with that…”
You paused, looking at the rich boy, and his visage was serious.
“The cramps,” he continued with a raise of his brows as if you didn’t know what he was getting at.
“So, I’ve heard,” you said after some time, unsure of how to even respond to that.
When you walked into the bathroom, you were shocked by the feel of Roman ripping the tampon out of your hand. The light from the bathroom lit up the hallway behind him, the darkness on the edge of the doorway making him look…ominous. His gaze was unreadable, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
“You’re not funny,” you told him, reaching for it, but he only held it out of reach. “Roman…”
You stumbled back when he crossed the threshold, blocking the doorway completely, and irritated and in pain, you were losing your patience for his game. He could be such a child sometimes, demanding attention at the worst moment possible, and you grabbed the tampon with a quickness. Only, Roman held onto it too, and he pushed at your hand, forcing you back in the process.
His green irises glinted under the light.
“Roman…”
You words died in the air when his hand slid to wrap around your wrist like earlier, and you felt your heart…drop.
The way he stared at you, something about it was terrifying, and his eyes started to appear almost unfocused. His hand tightened, and you winced, and you were just about to say his name again when the sound of the door clicking shut reached your ears. You blinked, looking behind him, unaware that he’d forced you both so far into the bathroom with enough room to kick the door shut. Like the first day you came face to face with him again, you felt paralyzed, trapped under the crushing weight of his gaze, and you could feel your heart speed up.
His hold on your arm prevented you from moving when he kissed you.
You were in shock, feeling wholly out of control that you just stood there, unable to quite feel his lips on yours. You felt crowded by him, forced to hold still lest you provoke something impulsive, and you didn’t even register just how painful his hold on your wrist became. You only blinked when the stabbing pain deep in the pit of your stomach reminded you of your plight.
Pulling away, you pushed at his chest.
“Roman, what the hell?”
Your lower back painfully met the sink, and you simultaneously tried to lean away and push him away too. His other hand snaked around your neck, your head harshly pressing against the mirror, and you whined in frustration. His lithe frame found a home between your kicking legs, and your panic seized you when he kissed you again.
Fighting against Roman felt like a lost cause—he was stronger than he looked.
The kiss felt hungry, like he was trying to devour you, and you whined again as he pressed you against the sink more. The hand on your wrist kept your arm outstretched, and he let out a sound in between the kiss that sounded somewhat like a hiss. His breathing was heavy too, and when he finally let your neck go, there was no sense of relief.
You pushed at him as he pulled at your pants, and they were barely to your knees when Roman suddenly dropped. One hand on your leg kept you from moving, the other preoccupied with getting the other out of the borrowed pajamas. Horror and confusion were battling within you, and all you could manage to do was hit at the wall when he dipped his head between your thighs.
Horrifying and bloody circumstances aside, you didn’t want this.
You cried out his name, throat tightening, and your free leg banged against the sink cabinet. One of his hands had a death grip on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin so harshly you knew it would bruise. He kept it pushed away, practically flat against the counter, the stretch burning in a way that made you wince. However, the feel of his tongue between your legs made for a confusing reaction.
Your head was spinning at the feel of his tongue sliding along your bloody folds, lips completely covering your mound as he sucked at you. Your eyes rolled, and it was hard to focus on the true nature of what was going on. Your toes curled under his ministrations, and your nails scraped against the wall and counter top.
“Roman, stop,” you choked out, heart beating wildly in your chest.
You finally pushed at his chest, whining in both pain and pleasure when he refused to move, only lapping at you harder. Your stomach was tightening for more reasons than one, now, and despite the cold season and cold mansion, you felt so hot. Too hot.
Roman hooked his arm under your thigh, yanking you down further, and you were in too much of an awkward and painful position to properly fight back. When your nails dug into his face, his other arm wrapped around your free leg, forcing that one where he wanted it to be too. You couldn’t even grapple with the full circumstances of Roman with his face between your legs during that time of the month, reaching out at the wall and counter in panic when he fell back, taking you with him.
Unable to move, you were forced to sit on his face, hands pushing against the wall behind him as a means to get free. That tightening in your gut was accompanied with a pleasant burn, now, and  your breath hitched, lashes fluttering at that tightening coil, shrinking more and more until it had no choice but to release, making you gasp when it did.
The moan you let out was unlike anything you’d heard from yourself, shocked at the strain in your voice. You couldn’t breathe fast enough, sucking in air with a swimming vision. In Roman’s greedy consumption of you, his hold loosened, and you didn’t hesitate to push yourself off of him. You were still shaking, the remnants of your orgasm gripping you, and your eyes were wide as you looked at Roman. He laid on the floor with parted lips, slowly blinking in wonder as he ran his hands through his hair.
The entire bottom half of his face was covered in your blood.
You felt frozen, unsure of how to even process what had just happened. You were so confused and disturbed and scared, staring at Roman like he was something not of this world, and when you finally shifted, that’s when he seemed to remember your presence, green eyes landing on you with a quickness that made you freeze up, as if trying to make yourself as small as possible.
Your scream rang throughout the bathroom when he lunged for you.
Roman’s bloody face was all you could focus on as he hovered over you, pushing his cock into you over and over again. Every time his hips met yours, your chest arched up against his, back curving and eyes rolling. Roman was so silent that you would’ve swore he was possessed, but there was an awareness in his green gaze that told you he was anything but.
His hands held yours down, dark brown hair hanging into his forehead. On the off chance that he smiled, it was a bloody one, and it scared you more than anything. The bathroom floor was cool against your naked back, and through the haze of Roman’s assault, you realized—with reluctance—that the feel of his cock driving in and out of you was indeed helping with your cramps.
The inside of your thighs were a bloody mess, much like his face, and as disgusting as it was, it was the least of your worries. Roman was a lot of things, annoyingly arrogant above all else, but you never pegged him for a rapist. A freak, maybe, yes, but a rapist? No. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in the bathroom, and so focused on the feel of him plunging into you, you couldn’t even pinpoint when the storm had ended.
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You cried out, tears spilling over as you pressed your hands against the hood of his car. You kept trying to push yourself up, but Roman’s determined hands kept shoving you back down. The moon was hidden by the clouds, no visible light shining down on his assault, a hand of his twisted at the nape of your neck.
You pressed your nails against his vehicle, and that was when he yanked you back, lips at your ear.
“Don’t scratch the fucking paint,” Roman spat, sounding very mad by the mere thought, and you insulted him several times over behind closed lips.
You’d tried to quit after that horrific stormy night in which Roman raped you on the bathroom floor. You’d given Olivia Godfrey every excuse in the book and tried to gently let Shelley down many times over, but the single matriarch simply wouldn’t hear it. She rolled her eyes in that coquettish way she tended to do, a soft smirk on her pink lips. Or she’d simply laugh you off, a sharp ‘nonsense’ soon to follow.
“Am I not paying you enough? Do you want more?”
“It’s not about the money,” you’d replied.
No amount of money in the world could possibly make up for the sick deviant that was her son.
After he came inside of you, breathless and satisfied, he’d dragged you crying and kicking all the way to his room. Any fight from you was immediately squashed down, and you didn’t know if Roman had snorted a few lines of coke or what, but no one was more shocked than you when he pushed you onto his bed, determined to continue what he’d started in the bathroom.
You’d been a dazed and abused mess when you snuck out in the early hours of the morning, half dressed and still bleeding. It hadn’t been Roman that came for you, but Olivia instead, talks of obligations and Shelley. No amount of refusal had deterred her, and you got the strangest feeling that the older woman fully knew the extent of just how her son felt about you.
You felt trapped.
By kind and sweet Shelley who broke your heart to leave, by Olivia who wanted to spoil her son with his new plaything of choice, and most of all by Roman who decided he had to have something once he wanted it. The last time you’d tried to quit, Olivia merely waved you off with a soft laugh, and when you turned around, none other than Roman had been at the end of the corridor, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
It was how you found yourself in his car, no choice but to let him drive you home. You hadn’t uttered a word to him since that night, and as you very well knew… Roman hated to be ignored. He was going to command your attention one way or another, and you hadn’t even heard him open his door after you, following close behind until his hands were on you and pushing you down onto his car.
Your forehead grazed the vehicle as he plunged his cock into you, stretching you out in your driveway for anyone to see. The embarrassment of such a thought was what kept you quiet, tears kissing your cheeks as you were forced to take his thrusts. His jeans were pulled down just enough to give him room to fuck you as he wanted, your own pants down around your ankles while he rutted into you.
When Roman came, he pressed his face into your hair, breathing you in with deep inhales. You could feel his heartbeat against your back, and you sniffed, shakily reaching up to wipe your face. Roman remained where he was for a few moments too long, just basking in the feel of you wrapped around him, and after some time, he let out a low chuckle.
It was a disturbing sound.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about this pussy since that night…” he breathed, finally pulling away.
You felt him right himself, and he was rough in doing the same to you, pulling your pants up. Once done, he rested his hands on your hips, remaining close and leaning in.
“Quit trying to quit,” he harshly said. “My sister really likes you, and if you hurt her feelings, I’ll make you choke on it.”
You stumbled back when he finally pulled away to make his way to the driver’s seat. You wrapped your arms around yourself, struggling to swallow as you accepted the truth in his words. You believed him wholeheartedly, and you trembled from more than just the cold as you watched him speed away in that fancy red car.
You knew that you wouldn’t be getting much sleep, and you hated how right you were when you were staring at your ceiling hours later. Like the day after that night, you’d scrubbed yourself until you felt raw, but even still, you could feel his hands on you. Those long fingers that were more reminiscent of spider legs than limbs.
Roman Godfrey was equally rotten inside as he was beautiful.
You discovered just how rotten only a week later when he was holding you down for the umpteenth time, a wicked smile on his lips just before leaning down. The sharp pain where your shoulder and neck met made you jerk beneath him, and beneath the cover of darkness, you just knew that the strong smell that hit your nose was blood.
You didn’t think it was possible for Roman to horrify you any more.
…but he did, and you screamed, and he only held you tighter. He was resting comfortably between your parted legs, fitting snuggly inside of you as he made a pulling sensation with his mouth. You squirmed beneath him, fighting and pushing back as much as you could, but he wasn’t deterred. You could feel his hips jerk, a gasp escaping you as he thrust into you to the hilt.
Your hands clawed at his bedding, the sound of tearing fabric reaching your ears above the low moans that left Roman. When he got his fill, you were a sobbing mess, reaching up to clutch your neck as he curved his hips into yours. You could feel some of your blood drip onto you from his mouth, and when his bloody lips met yours, you gagged.
Your disbelief was forced to be suspended with the unfortunate truth that was right in front of you. You didn’t really care about what was possible or not in that moment, only wanting to get away from him. Roman seemed entertained with your struggle, fighting with your hands as he fucked you, a tight grip on your wrist. The other hand danced down your body, light touches and skin grazes along the way.
“Look at me,” he murmured, drunk off the taste of you. “Look at me.”
His bloody hand on your face forced you to do just that, and his calm voice stopped you from shaking. Even in the dark, it was like his green irises were all you could see, and the color was so calming—so soothing—that when he told you to relax…you did.
You felt so at ease as he slowly thrust into you, pulling out until only the tip of him remained before pushing all the way back in again. The feel made you sighed, and Roman sighed too, a soft hum escaping him. Deep in the back of your mind, you were still terrified of the dark-haired boy, but despite that, you just felt so calm.
“Good,” he softly purred. “Good girl.”
One of his hands rested on the headboard above you, the other pressed into the pillow beside your head. You were so relaxed that all you could do was stare up at him as he surged over you again and again, retreating with every pull of his hips and driving forward with every thrust. Relaxed, you were more able to focus on the sound of his cock sinking into you, the squelching noise reaching your ears as your body fought to cling to him and keep him from leaving each and every time.
Dazedly, you reached up to touch your neck again, the smell of blood strong, and as you lifted your hand to look at it, Roman leaned down to cover your fingers with his mouth. The hum that met your ears was one of appreciation, and when you came for the first time that night, you were met with another.
“You’ve had enough?” he wondered, hand pressed into your stomach as he drove his hips against yours. “…or you want more from daddy?”
His voice was low and gruff, strained with emotion as he basked in the tight and warm feel of you. It didn’t really matter what your answer would be for Roman had already decided to fuck you well into the night as he wished. When you came for a final time, his hands were leaving bruises into your hips, and you were ripping his sheets apart.
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The woods of Hemlock Grove seemed extra thick and hazardous tonight, as if it was their sole purpose to slow you down and trap you for him.
Bite marks and bruises littered your skin for months before you finally cracked. Months of walking into The Godfrey Mansion with fear, tutoring Shelley and distracted the entire time by thoughts of Roman. Wondering when he’d come to collect you, what corner he might pop out of, when you might feel the brush of his touch along your shoulder. You didn’t stay for dinner anymore, unable to sit across from Roman and have him stare you down as he reminisced on the feel of you coming around him, bleeding and broken.
Olivia Godfrey pretended not to notice Roman shadowing you like a ghost, like a grim reaper come to collect what he felt he was owed. She smiled that coy smile and waved around those waifish arms, all the while nursing a cigarette or a drink, fully aware of what her spoiled son got up to under the cover of darkness when no one could see your abuse at his hands.
Your last period had been your last straw, shuddering at the memory of Roman keeping you prisoner on top of him as he ate you out so long that it started to grow painful at some point. When he finally sank into you—in more ways than one—you couldn’t even try to enjoy it, too overstimulated to the point where you kept trying to get away.
Roman was sound asleep when you ran.
…but he was wide awake in time to run after you.
You truly didn’t even know where you were going, so set on just getting away from the terrifying boy that you just let your feet carry you. The biting air cut at your skin, and the leaves crunched beneath you. It was only moments ago when his voice had rang through the trees, your name bouncing off of the trunks as he desperately called for you.
“I can smell you!”
That fact did not deter you, sure that you could escape him. Every whip of a branch cut into you, and you knew the blood that you felt was the very same blood he smelled. The steep inclines and downward slopes of Hemlock Grove slowed you down, tiring you out, and your chest hurt from your harsh sobs. You had just pulled yourself up a small hill when you fell to the ground.
You were not alone.
“Y/N,” Roman snarled, a guttural edge to his voice that made you cry harder. “Get back here!”
He screamed it so passionately and loudly that it actually made you wince, and your vision was blurred from your tears as you clawed at the ground, fighting to get away from him. His fingers dug into your pants, preventing you from moving as much as you wanted, and despite the fact that you knew no one would come, you screamed for help when he crawled up your body.
He slammed your head into the ground, impulsively, and you saw stars in your vision. He succeeded in what he wanted, halting your movements for a time as you fought to collect yourself. In that time, Roman had already covered your frame, chest completely pressed down on your back. His hand closed around your throat, pulling your head back some.
“Don’t be stupid,” he roughly told you, lips at your ear. “Don’t be fucking stupid.”
You clawed at the dirt and leaves as his other hand reached beneath you, sliding into your pants with ease and cupping you. He made a noise of appreciation at the feel, and as Roman told you that you’d never escape him, he sank his teeth into your neck.
In your despair, you accepted this truth.
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slytherinshua · 4 months
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ANTON BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS
genre. fluff. a lil f2l. warnings. none. pairing. anton x fem!reader. wc. 1.2k. request. no. a/n. anton delusions to start the new year off on the right foot <3
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boyfriend anton who is the most attentive person you’ve ever met
maybe it’s because he always waits and listens before speaking and that has taught him to pick up on everything, but he never misses anything
if you shiver from the cold, he notices
if you tense up in uncomfort, he notices
if you’re eyeing that one ring on the jewellery stand in the store, he notices 
he loves to take walks with you, but since it’s gotten colder outside, you often get a lot colder than him
he gets into the habit of giving you his scarf or his coat or his gloves
sometimes he offers to hold your hands to warm them up, gently rubbing them to warm them up when they’re freezing from the outside cold
he’ll give you his beanies to keep your ears warm
and when he notices that your cheeks are dusted pink from the cold, he’ll kiss all over your face to try to warm it up
when he’s listening to you talk, he’ll subconsciously mirror your gestures
he’s quirking his eyebrow when you are, fiddling with his thumbs to match your pace, leaning away from you at the same speed that you’re leaning forward
there’s always a balance, and anton always makes sure to keep the perfect harmony between you two
when he’s away on schedules, he’ll always take pictures of his food to let you know he’s eaten
and he makes sure he’s in the frame of the photo too after you said you wanted to see his face as well
even if he doesn’t look the best or takes it from a weird angle, you were his best friend before you were his girlfriend, so he never feels awkward about it
the comfortableness that you have with your best friend was still a very prominent feeling in your relationship
you were always making fun of each other and giggling and sending the ugliest selfies— it made you feel at home
the only difference was that during those fits of giggles, instead of hiding how much he loves your laughter and your smile, he could tell you openly and shower your face with kisses just to remind you how much he loves you
instead of looking back at the selfies he sent you when you miss him, you could just ask for more
you always felt completely yourself around anton, but once you started dating him, you felt even more comfortable
you don’t really have “date nights” with anton
there’s nothing fancy or overly romantic with you two
you’re more comfortable with just hanging out with him like usual
sometimes you do dress up because you want to look pretty for him, of course, but there is never any pressure to
dates with anton are always low stress
your original fancy dinner date got cancelled last minute, you weren’t feeling up for it or anton was tired from work? it’s no problem— you’ll just get mcdonald’s instead and spend the night cuddling while watching old movies
anton always sends you snippets of songs he’s working on, even if he’s not really supposed to
what harm could happen if you heard a single melody line?
plus, he values your feedback more than anything, and your suggestions work their way into the songs even when you don’t realize it
he always takes your advice on everything, because, well, you’re the person he trusts the most in the world
there’s never a reason you need to lie or hide something from him, and because of that, he trusted you every time
he knows everything about you, and he remembers everything as well
it was easy for him to choose gifts for you once you became his girlfriend
he starts buying something for you whenever he buys something for himself just because you’re always on his mind
or when he passes something cute in the store, his brain just goes
“oh, y/n would like that”
and suddenly he’s at the register already paying for it
he remembers every time you mentioned something in the past to him as just your best friend, so he knows your taste better than anyone else
with how attentive he is, he even knows what your new interest is before you tell him
you’re suddenly hyper focused on capsule wardrobes, specifically ones for couples so that you can match with every piece of clothing you own? 
sure, that’s some interesting information that he definitely didn’t already pick up 2 weeks ago
he’s already pulling out the matching clothes before you can get a second sentence in, and you happily spend the next few months matching with anton without even trying
the same thing happens when you decide to try to make your own sourdough bread as a new hobby
anton saw you reading blogs about bread a little too often to just be mindlessly scrolling through your phone
so he picks up a bread book at the store the next day, naturally
he’s always one to indulge in whatever you’re interested in
even if it doesn’t end up being something he also enjoys, he can still buy you things for it because he loves to see you happy
anton is shy
sometimes a little too shy, especially in front of other people
when it’s just you, he can say he loves you pretty easily, and even kiss you without feeling too embarrassed
but he absolutely cannot handle pda
even holding your hand around the other boys or people he knows will make him blush uncontrollably 
the teasing makes it worse, especially it’ll be the only thing eunseok and sungchan talk about for the next week
when he can, he’ll show you affection in more subtle ways
one of his favourites is making little playlists for you
sometimes they’re long, sometimes they’re just 5 songs
but each of them comes with a little note from him in the description, saying how much he loves you or how the songs remind him of you
there are times when you won’t see each other for a while, but listening to the playlists he sends you makes the time away from him more bearable
when you sent him your first response playlist, he almost cried
you had filled it with the most loverboy coded songs— and some of the lyrics had him questioning how you could pick such detailed songs?
because they all hit him so hard, as if the songs were written about you and him
your favourites from those playlists soon found their way into a joint playlist— one you made on anton’s birthday
the boys always tease him about listening to it too much, but it’s not like he can just stop 
he’s addicted to it
not only were the songs good, but they’re the songs that he shared with you
and he likes knowing that he could share something like that with just you made him feel so warm and fuzzy inside
there’s something so special about the love that you have for anton
the more you think back, the more you realize that there was never any other boy in your brain other than him
he had always been your best friend and your secret crush
and now that you could call him your boyfriend, you want to keep it like that for as long as possible
luckily, anton feels the exact same way
his life feels unimaginable without you right beside him
↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr, @chiiyuuvv,, @evalevaeva
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Lesson 4: "Do Black People Blush?" Bringing brown complexions to life
Inspired by this ask
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So, do Black people blush?
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We are human beans 🤣! Blood rushes through our veins! This isn't just a nonblack misconception either; I know plenty of Black people who think we don't blush. Stop saying that shit. It's not true! If you thought this at any point, I'm glad you learned, TAKE THIS L IN SILENCE! I am sparing you the indignity of saying this out loud, ever! 🙏🏾
Jokes aside, the actual issue usually lies with the depiction or description. Depending on our skin tone, most of us aren’t going to turn ‘bright pink’ with a blush (if you write that in your y/n or roleplaying fics, that’s an easy way to negate a good amount of your potential Black audience). Think of a cherry coke- how you still see the tint of red in it, but it’s still brown? Like that.
One way to dodge this in writing is to say “flushed”, or “ears/cheeks became hot”. This is describing the physical action of blushing, without having to describe the color of someone’s face. If you’re really nervous about not writing us correctly via blushing… there you go!
Colorism
Okay. So this is something I’ll likely do its own lesson on, because there’s no way I could encapsulate it into one little blurb and I’m not going to try! After asking the internet an admittedly confusing question 😅, one thing I was able to reaffirm is that people have different opinions on what ‘dark’/’darker’ skin tones mean. People recognize that different cultural upbringings and contexts will change what that means! And that’s good- that an important part of the larger conversation!
However, I want everyone to understand that you don’t have to be Black to be dark/’darker’ skinned- you can be Black and very pale! We discussed that in the last lesson! There’s no ‘singular point of brown-ness’ that designates a Black person as ‘Black’- there’s an entire sociological conversation behind that!
My point is, this isn’t a ‘oh Black people OVERALL aren’t depicted blushing properly’- because there are ‘lighter’ skinned Black people that wouldn’t suffer as much from this particular issue.
Blushes and Undertones
Three Links for Tips on Medium to Deep Skintones
Different complexions are going to require different colors, there's not a 'one fits all' option. However! What we want to do for deeper brown complexions is to focus on BOLDER, not lighter! Putting light pink or a white person’s ‘nude’ on our skin will often make us look ashy and undercolored. And we don’t like looking ashy.
"It looks like they're ashy!"
What do we mean when we say this about a piece? Well, worse case scenario, it looks like this:
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This was NOT one of KD’s better days, and he was thoroughly mocked for this. He got more than enough money for lotion! Anyway, when we say that your art looks ‘ashy’, it means that it feels like the skin of your Black character is gray, or dead. Like a corpse. We don’t look like that unless things are dire.
In fan and professional art, you can sometimes find people user a grey undertone for deeper shades of brown on Black people: NO! We are NOT grey! We are not pitch! Many skin shades of brown can be found based in the oranges and the reds. Based on lighting and depth of complexion, you might even have to go into the blues and purple to capture the brown you’re seeking.
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I’m begging us to stop desaturating the browns we use. We can see the difference. It’s usually one of those ‘White Man Painted Brown’ techniques I discussed before; an attempt to ‘make a character Black’ without really committing to it because the brown skin tone ‘doesn’t look good’ to the artist. Brown is beautiful! Commit to brown! Commit to the full design!
Put in the work to create the brown you need!
While this is a traditional art piece (follow Ellie Mandy Art, a Black creator), I want you to notice how she incorporated many colors to create the deep brown for her piece.
-8:05 for the list of paints
-8:05-17:29 for the process
She used black, yes, but it was nowhere near the base color. She incorporated blues and reds and other browns to capture that depth. It wasn’t ‘toss in a bunch of black or grey to get the brown darker’. (SKIP TO THE END TO SEE HOW GOOD THIS PIECE IS, BTW. I felt like I was in the presence of a master watching her do this, fr. We gotta pay artists more.)
I want to use this model as an example to show that while we might get very dark, we're still not 'pitch black'. You can see the flat of the black of their clothes versus their deep complexion. They're not the same!
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Even if your character's complexion is very deep brown into black, you still need to incorporate ‘life’ into them (if that makes sense). And you know what? Even if you want to describe your characters as having ‘black’ skin, that’s fine, but there are still other ways to do it- obsidian, the night sky, velvet. Find a way to romanticize our skin (there’s an entire conversation about how ‘black’ is used in a negative connotation in language and storytelling, and we’re ALSO going to have that conversation later!)
A Real Simple Way (i.e. how I do it)
I tried, but I cannot find my skin tones palette link anymore. I’m sorry! But, it’s been essential to my character design. If you don’t ever buy anything else, I would HIGHLY suggest investing in a skin tones palette for your art program.
Everyone say hello to Philia, my OC! I’m used to drawing her, so I’m going to use her as an example. Now remember, I am still an amateur! But this is how I do it!
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Admittedly, I do the one on the left when I'm feeling lazy, but more often I'll take the time to do the one on the right. Now here’s the thing- I’m not actually blending the red into the brown. This is on a whole different layer. What I’m actually doing is adding to and fading the color until it’s at a color that I feel is natural. There's definitely an easier, smarter way to do this, but that’s what I like to do- I like to see the stages slowly until I’m comfortable.
You have to mess around and practice; see what looks good and what doesn't. Go into the reds, the oranges, the pinks and observe how it looks- I may go through multiple before I settle on one. It’s really just a matter of getting used to drawing Black skin tones and how they look in different lighting. This one's not perfect for sure.
Resources
Here are some really good posts and Youtube videos on how both to paint skin, and to add blush tones. And remember, as per my usual, the best way to learn how the draw and paint Black people is to follow and learn from Black artists! Another good idea might be looking into Black makeup and Black SFX makeup artists. As people that work with skin on a regular basis, they would be a good place to study what colors can and should be used on different skin colors as a whole.
ami0amii
Likelihood Art
Tiara Anderson
Proko
Sinix
Ross Draws
In summary, focus on bolder colors, be willing to test until you get what you need, and practice! All you can do to get better is to practice! And as always: it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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