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wandasaura · 3 months ago

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PAINTED ALL MY NIGHTS

summary — your mommy was mean, but your daddy could be downright cruel. it makes for an interesting night when they both decide to leave you wanting until you’re not sure how much more teasing you can take, and even then, they’re not going to give in easily

warning(s) — established relationship, daddy kink, mommy kink, mild pet play, dumbification, humiliation, degradation, praise, teasing, butt plugs, dry humping, shoe humping, inspection kink, oral, fingering, choking, crying, pussy spanking, mentions of chastity belts, begging, orgasm control/denial, edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms, squirting, oral fixation (brief), finger sucking, ¿arousal tasting?, mean mommy wanda, cruel daddy natty, aftercare, men/minors dni

A soft current of chilled air swept beneath the thick desk your body remained crammed beneath, adding goosebumps to the array of blemishes against your satin skin. How you’d managed to acquire a collage of bruises on your shins wasn’t quite a mystery, but like a canvas speckled with vibrant acrylic paints, the evidence of their existence was undeniable and honestly laughable. The summer heat was thick, falling over your quaint little town as if its intention was purely to suffocate those that resided near the shorelines of New Jersey, but even beneath an office desk, curled into a tight ball, head resting on plush thighs the color of warm sand, the low thrum of the air conditioner remained a steady presence keeping you cool. A hum, softer than a whisper stolen in a overstimulating crowd, slipped off your lips when manicured fingers the color of divine cherries embedded themselves within your undone hair, scratching tenderly at your scalp that had yearned for attention since you’d wiggled your way underneath the desk your girlfriend worked at. That was how you’d acquired so many faint yet assuredly purple bruises, crawling across wooden floorboards and banging your limbs on hard wooden corners just trying to be close to the women that you love.

Your eyes, a beautiful definition of color that had somehow become the lifeline your girlfriends hadn’t known they’d been missing until they met you, looked up, just barely able to steal a glance at the woman working at the desk you sat beneath. Her own eyes, a kaleidoscope of unreplicable blues and greens, were trained to the litany of emails that had collected since the night before when she’d sat in the same place for hours attempting to respond to them all. Perhaps you had been ignorant, but before your world had been remade into what it current is, you’d never given professional trainers much thought; had never dwelled on the profession long enough to consider how in demand they are amongst military units and police squads, but your girlfriend, the one who was just slightly older than the other, had made a name for herself out of that very profession, and each day that she wasn’t stolen from you by obligations to train the cities sharpest officers, she spent an unhealthy amount of hours answering emails that all demanded to know when she was free next, and how far she was willing to travel for her services.

“You okay down there, puppy?” The tone of her voice was low, and admittedly husky from minimal use throughout the endless day that had befallen you, but equally soft as it fell against your attention deprived heart and showered you in warmth that wasn’t nearly as cruel as the unwavering heat that plagued the streets of West View. A sweet blush fell over your cheeks, a strangled whine slipping off your lips as you rocked your hips against the wooden floorboards, searching for something more; something adamantly forbidden. “Use your words, please.”

With a displeased grunt, your brain foggy despite the little action your wanting body had seen since you’d woken up tangled within cold bed sheets, you pieced together a simple sentence, direct enough to convey your desperation, but just sweet enough that your workaholic girlfriend would forgive your bluntness easily. “Want you.” It was so simple, so telling, so pure, and yet it wouldn’t be enough to convince her and you knew that. Your Mommy was mean, that was an unchanging factor in your sexual endeavors, but your Daddy could be downright cruel if she felt like it.

Another hum filled the air, though hers was prominent, filled with simple dominance that made your belly coil in unattainable pleasure and fear. “Is that so?” She chided, not tearing her gaze away from her desktop screen for even a second to take in the sight of you curled up so sweetly in a ball by her feet. Had she looked down, taken just a simple glance at your disheveled state, she would’ve noticed the dark patch adorning the center of your cotton panties, she would’ve noticed the way your pebbled nipples poked through the thin tank top clinging to your torso in an effortlessly enticing manor, she would’ve noticed your desperation glazed eyes and arousal flush cheeks, but she didn’t, and you knew that it was purposeful. She was diminishing you to be nothing but her brainless pet, and as hard as you fought to stay coherent and clear-minded throughout her trickery, it was working too well.

You’d known the game she was wanting to play since she’d coaxed you into taking one of the fancier plugs that had been purchased for your puckered hole early that mid-morning. You’d been eager to play, wiggling your hips and pushing back on the fingers that gently worked you open at a pace so slow it rivaled drying paint, but she’d found restraint since the last time you’d played this game, and patience was ever so slowly ebbing away from your wanting body. A whine, high pitched and entirely petulant fell off of your lips when nothing was given to you in the aftermath of her taunt. You rooted harder against the light oak floorboards, bracing your palms mere inches in front of your body, hoping that the balanced pressure would provide you relief, but all you’d accomplished was alerting her of your sneaky actions, and so carelessly a shoe covered foot jutted out to become your undoing. A sob broke through your lips the second her shoe nestled itself between your trembling thighs, giving you a silent ultimatum that unfortunately, you weren’t desperate enough to take up just yet. The unspoken demand was simple; ride her shoe or stop whining, but humiliation was engraved in the degrading task, and your brain, a helpless pile of submissive mush, hadn’t been undone quite enough to take the bait.

Settling back against the floorboards like you’d been prior to your short-lived act of defiance, her shoe a bulky presence beneath your body giving just enough pleasure to not be forgotten about entirely, you dropped your flush cheek to her upper-shin once more, nipping at her unblemished skin in frustration. Her fingers were quick to reprimand you, nestling into your undone hair and pulling sharply, giving you no ounce of grace despite being the cause of your misbehaving.

Another hour passed after that without so much as a glance in your direction, and then another, and then another, until the sun was sinking beneath the shorelines of New Jersey being replaced by moonlight that glimmered against every reflective surface in the home office. Your girlfriend, the artist, was due home soon. She’d been called away to her gallery early, preparations for a mid-season showcase taking up most of her time nowadays, but you could always count on her comforting presence before the canvas of sunset could melt away entirely. You whined as you shifted against the floors, rocking your sopping cunt into your girlfriend's shoe incidentally, an electric pulse of pleasure shooting up your spine and tangling into the center of your belly where one off sparks had been shooting off at for hours. It hadn’t been intentional, your only intention had been to relieve your aching bones for a few simple seconds, but instead you found yourself tethered to the source of pleasure you found despite the humiliation that just barely crossed your mind, and again, your hips rocked, and again, pleasure shot through you like a bullet train.

If your girlfriend noticed how you humped her shoe and clung to her leg and whined and whimpered and twitched with pleasure, which she most definitely did, nothing was said. There was no demand to stop that followed your curious movements, no assurance that despite your disgusting act you were good, so good, no verbal humiliation regarding how disgustingly needy your brainless pussy was. There was nothing, and the lack of attention only brought forth a new wave of discomfort. You cried out helplessly, uncoordinated movements becoming sloppy and desperate, but the tears that spilled down your cheeks like tantalizing rivulets did nothing to interfere with her concentration. It was becoming equally too much and not enough, the game was becoming less fun, less enticing, but you wanted her, and you needed her, and you hoped that eventually, before your thoughts spiraled so deep into despair that only Wanda could pull you back up, that she would notice.

Miraculously, she did. When your grinding slowed, and your sobs intensified, and you weren’t sure if you were trembling as a result of found pleasure or desperation for her, she reached down, corralling you into her lap with gentle movements and tender touches. Your sodden panties dragged along the thin material of her biker shorts, and with a mind of their own, your hips searched for relief against her, grinding and humping and wiggling so intensely that the chair rocked in time with your movements. Your face found peace in the shallowest pit of her neck, lips sucking marks onto her smooth skin, tears dampening strands of hair that had become trapped between your body and hers.

“Such a good girl, I have. The best girl. The best puppy.” She cooed softly, her fingers holding tightly to your waist, guiding your movements with leisure, inching you closer and closer to an explosion of relief that would have you falling deep into a pit of paralyzing submission for hours. When her other hand, the one that had never been laid against your waist, dipped further down, gliding against your spine until it reached the swell of your ass, you realized just briefly that this had been the end goal the entire time. She wanted you pliable in her hands, she wanted you so desperate that despite your conflicting emotions you sought pleasure from her simple body. A sharp moan fell into the air when soft fingers pressed against the plug nestled between the globes of your ass. The plug, a heart shaped jewel the color of your favorite shade of pink, pressed into you firmly, not entirely dissimilar to how it had pressed into you when you sat flush against the floorboards, but there was an added spark now that her fingers were the one provoking such sensations. “No, you don’t get to cum. Just feel it, pretty puppy. Just enjoy how good Daddy’s making you feel.” She was quick to reaffirm that forbidden rule, and your tears were quick to start again, blubbering sobs and pleas falling off your lips and you ground your clothed core into hers, your clit catching on the waistband of her biker shorts each time she guided you higher.

“My my, what’s going on in here?” Another voice, a softer voice, broke through the heavy fog restricting your mind from fully recognizing what’s happening around you. You hadn’t heard the front door close, hadn’t heard her heels clanking against the floorboards as she discarded her blazer in the living room and set her thermos of coffee down on the kitchen island, you hadn’t heard her kick off her stilettos by the stairs before she padded her way up to Natasha’s office. You hadn’t heard any of it, but you heard her now, and you reached for her with determination, your face flush and damp with tears that your Daddy was far too proud to have been the result of.

“M-Mommy!” You sobbed weakly, sparks of pleasure still paralyzing you in place on Natasha’s lap, however with Wanda home now, with your Mommy present, you could only hope that relief would make its way to your pulsating clit quickly. She never could resist the sight of your tear stained face, even if Natasha found it delectable. Mommy was hard, she was firm and she was ruthless, but at the end of the day you were just her precious little baby eager for attention and she was more than happy to give you that. It was Daddy’s puppy that could endure the wrath of denial and endless teasing, but now, your brain lingered on the verge of two headspaces that clashed so violently it was as if two separate people resided within your desires and neither one was ready to relinquish control, and your overstimulated, underwhelmed body wasn’t quite sure where to settle in the aftermath of such an emotionally charged lead up to this moment. Everything was too much, but nothing was enough to state the desire burning holes into your judgment. Natasha had broken you. That had been the game all along, you were just too naive to realize until now. You’d played the part of a dumb puppy seamlessly, grinding on her shoe, on her lap, biting at her legs and at her neck… you’d been the perfect puppy for a few agonizing hours, but now you were ready to be Mommy’s baby; her spoiled little princess.

“Oh no, Mommy’s not going to save you now, little minx. You look so pretty making a mess on your Daddy’s lap.” Wanda’s laugh was your favorite sound. It was sweet and twinged with innocence, despite the hardships that had befallen her in life, but as if fell over you now, as it crashed against your shorelines it was harsh and unforgiving, cold and threateningly eerie. A sob rippled through your chest, and pathetically your head fell against Natasha’s shoulders, your hips fumbling to an abrupt stop as you gave up. It was too much, it was all too much. You needed your Mommy, you wanted your Daddy, you didn’t want to be the one pushing toward an orgasmic explosion of relief. You wanted it done to you, wanted to be their pretty little toy that they used however they pleased, and yet they weren’t giving you that satisfaction. “You need help, is that what this is about? Mommy’s little baby can’t do it on her own?”

You peeked out from Natasha’s shoulder, beautiful eyes that stole breath from healthy lungs glazed over so heavily that the gleam of moonlight slipping in through the curtains framing the window reflected off of them dazzlingly. You wanted your Mommy, and she had so cruelly refused to help you. A guttural sob slipped off your tongue, and defenselessly you surrendered to Natasha’s persistent touches, your hips twitching of their own volition when she pressed harshly against the base of the plug nestled deep within your puckered hole with addictive strawberry flavored lube. The tank top that clung to your torso was damp with sweat and tears, giving easy sight to your pebbled nipples that rubbed and brushed against Natasha’s chest teasingly. You’d been successfully undone, not a single coherent thought in your head, and yet it wasn’t enough for them, it would never be enough for them.

“Come here, my darling girl. Let Mommy take a look at what’s bothering you.” Your cheeks, already so tenderly flush that they felt hot to the touch, became alight with nervous energy as you wiggled out of Natasha’s grip and reached out firmly for Wanda, not willing to take her rejection again. It never came, thankfully, and within seconds you were nestled against your Mommy’s chest, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume and acrylic paints. She preferred oil, but she’d been working on one last canvas that had only felt right to be constructed with vibrant purples and oranges from her acrylic collection. It didn’t matter much to you. Wanda smelt like coming home after a strenuous day, and so intimately you snuggled closer, still sniffling and writhing for pleasure to consume you.

Her footsteps were soft, practically inaudible as she padded across the wooden floorboards and brought you to the bedroom that hadn’t been seen since you’d come to find Natasha when sunlight was still painting the endless sky a hue of admirable baby blue. Your back met the soft bed sheets when Wanda threw you down, her touch lost for merely a few seconds before thumbs, stained from spilled paint, pried your thighs open, leaving your sodden panties on full display for her to enjoy. A shy whine rippled through your chest as you attempted to close your legs, but all that came of your weak protests was a curt tutt and a firmer hold.

“My my, sweetheart. Your panties are awfully wet. Mommy can see your little clit just begging for attention right through them. I bet that feels so icky, huh?” She cooed tauntingly, her unmanicured finger falling between your open legs, her paint stained nail tracing the softest line across the expanse of your clothed pussy, merely smearing arousal across the already sodden fabric. A strangled whine caught in your dry throat, your desperate gleam not nearly enough to convince her to relieve you so early on. “Let me have a taste, hm? Let Mommy see what all the fuss is about.”

Her words alone hadn’t been enough to prepare you for the sensation of a warm tongue flicking curiously against your hardened bud, a mixture of saliva and arousal further dampening your panties as Wanda leaned down to firmly taste your glistening core, her strangled moans of enjoyment sparking sensations deep in your belly that had your eyes fluttered closed and your hips grinding up to find more; more pressure, more stimulation, just more. It was over as soon as it had begun, and a whimpered protest fell into the air as you blindly reached down to grab fistfuls of neatly tamed waves, trying desperately to pull her face back down to where you needed her most. She was unrelenting, smiling down at you so sickeningly sweetly that you yearned to kick her away and roll over in a huff of frustration, but temptation got the better of you, and desperately you rolled your hips against thin air, hoping to seduce her into giving into your desires.

“M-Mommy! It’s achey!” You babbled desperately, wiggling pathetically against the bedsheets that had seen many strenuous endeavors over the last few months. Just the thought of how many times you’d come apart beneath them on these beige gingham sheets left you desperate, and the thought of adding another orgasm to the collection of passed ones had you panting.

“Oh, I’m sure it is achey, sweetheart. Your little pussy’s so needy, Mommy might just have to lock her up, huh? She gets you in so much trouble, always crying for attention, always desperate to be full. I think it’s time we teach her how to act, hm?” Wanda continued to coo, all while her fingers rub soft patterns and shapes into the soaked fabric of your pastel pink panties, though the damp patch had turned them a hue so vibrant there’s not a single paint in Wanda’s collection that could match it accurately. You shook your head adamantly at the idea, a sob clawing up your throat at her proposed suggestion, and she laughed. “It’s not up to you what Mommy does, little girl. You’ll just take it like a good girl, won’t you? You’ll let Mommy do whatever she wants to you?”

You couldn’t help but nod, blubbering into your hands that had come to hide your face at some point between her lips on your clothed core and her fingers tracing minuscule details. You whined when she spread your legs further, painfully aware of how your clit throbbed and pulsated against the fabric of your panties, enough for her to take notice and flick her fingers against your sensitive bud in tune with its rhythmic beating. A open palm slap was the sensation that startled you, and a pathetic whimper filled the room as your eyes shot open and you witnessed Natasha standing beside Wanda, her eyes trained on your core, her palm glistening despite the barrier between your core and her hand.

“How many can this slutty puppy take before she comes from a spanking alone?” Her words are directed at Wanda, her attention split between your dazzling girlfriend and your glimmering core. Not an ounce of attention falls on you, from either her nor the artist also filling the space between your open legs. It’s humiliating, entirely dehumanizing, but it fuels your arousal further, and pathetically you grind upwards, hoping to come in contact with her palm once more, even if the touch is harsh and unforgiving. “Looks like the dumb pet wants to find out.”

The first spank is heavenly, a harsh blow aimed directly at your quivering opening that’s been void of stimulation all day, but the second is cruel, aimed straight at your unsuspecting clit that throbs and pulses in the aftermath of the blow and has you writhing from that intense mix of pain and pleasure. A strangled sob rips your throat apart, your eyes wide and pleading for relief do nothing to soften Natasha’s reserve, and again she strikes you between your legs, and again your core reacts before your brain can catch up to what’s happening. It’s by the sixth that you can feel it happening. Your legs are shaking, trembling, fighting to close but Wanda holds them open and leaves you vulnerable to the assault. Your chest is rising and falling so fast that your breath comes out in strained pants. Your eyes are shut, fingers holding fistfuls of bed sheets that do nothing to ease your panic. You’re close, so close, one last hit and you’re falling over the edge into bliss that’s been sought after for days. It doesn’t come. That’s exactly what you’d been dreading, the edging. The signs had been painted across Natasha’s face since she pulled you up into her lap and had reaffirmed that you weren’t allowed to cum, but now it’s fallen over top of you like a bucket of ice water and it’s too much. It’s too much and it’s not enough and you can’t control yourself when you sob and kick at them, wriggling around like bed like the plush sheets beneath your hands will be any comfort.

“Please please please please! No Daddy! No! No no no! Please! Please! P-Please! Been good! I-I’ve been good! Been a good girl! Pl-Please!” Your words are a barely coherent jumble of sobs, and you’re faintly aware of Wanda attempting to coax you back into place, but all that dwells on you is the constant denial of relief, of attention, of affection. It’s too much, and you’re so desperate, and you’ve been so good, and you know that you’ve been good. Why isn’t that enough? Why can’t it be enough? “Wanna cum! Please! Please Mommy! Please! Please I was good! I sat with Daddy and-and I kept the plug in and I-I was good! Mommy I was good! Please! No more teasing! No more! Please! I can’t! I can’t-”

You’re faintly aware of the bed dipping beneath the presence of another body, but only when Natasha’s firm hands cup your cheeks do you realize that she’s cuddled up beside you and her hands are tenderly brushing away rivulets of perspiration and tears from your face. She kisses you sweetly, slowly, savoring the sight of you so undone from their simple touches, but there’s an etch of concern entangled with her captivating features, enough to tell you that it’s ending, it’s finally ending.

“Do you need to safeword?” She asks tenderly, brushing strands of unruly hair away from your damp face. There’s no sight of disappointment, of underlying anger, just genuine care and concern, which has been all you wanted for hours.

You shake your frantically, soft cries slipping into the silence once again. The thought of losing them after enduring so much just to get that blissful reward of an orgasm has you scrambling to make sense of your feelings, but they’ve jumbled your brain, fried your independence. You’re at their mercy until you regain their bearings, all you can manage is a soft, frantically whispered. “J-Just want you. P-Please! I’ve been good!”

“You’ve been so good, malyshka. So so good. My best girl. Let Mommy help you now, hm? Let her make all the aches go away.” Natasha speaks to you tenderly, resigning from her role as cruel daddy for the night, content to simply lay by your side, a reassuring presence as you prepare to submit to your Mommy.

Wanda works your panties off softly, caressing your thighs as she brushes against them, taking in the sight of your cunt, bare of coarse hair and blemishes, looking absolutely delectable as it glimmers beneath soft ambient lighting and undiluted moonlight. Nobody had thought to turn the lights on when they entered, but the soft night light in the corner of the room provided more than necessary as she lowered her lips to your clit and didn’t hold back.

The first suckle at your overstimulated bud was euphoric, and your back arched high off the mattress as you scrambled to twist your fingers into her hair, desperate to keep her close to your core though she wouldn’t have pulled away regardless of your persistence. She laps at you with intensity, using her paint stained fingers to hold your lower lips apart and dig right into her meal without care for how harsh or animalistic she appears, her nose bumps your clit as her lips moved south, her tongue poking into your weeping entrance and attempting to drink the arousal that had pooled there after hours of being trapped beneath thin panties. When her fingers slip into you, two to be exact, you can’t control your whines and moans, and so profusely you beg for permission to fall off the edge of the cliff and drown yourself in orgasmic bliss that rivals the chill of ocean waves in summertime.

“Go ahead. Let go, baby girl. Make a mess on Mommy’s fingers. You can cum, it’s okay. You can let go now. You did such a good job, such a good job, my angel.” Natasha whispers into the darkness of the bedroom, her lips flush against your temple as she works you up more, her fingers pulling and twisting at your nipples still hidden beneath a sweat drenched tank-top. You feel disgusting, sticky and slick with sweat and tears, but it’s not enough to pull you away from this moment, and when her hand, the one that hadn’t been permanently glued to your breasts, found your throat, nor squeezing but applying just enough pressure that it reaffirmed her gentle dominance over you, you gave into the orgasm that had been begging to be unleashed.

You didn’t have time to come down from that first high before Wanda was doubling her efforts between your legs, her fingers jackhammering into your entrance as her tongue traced circles and flicked at your once deprived bud of nerves. You shrieked, whining so petulantly that Natasha cooed sweetly against your temple and continued her gentle movements against your tits, pulling your tank top up just enough to reveal them to the cool breeze that swept through the room, accompanied by the low thrum of the air conditioner.

“No more! N-no more!” You attempted to squirm away from the undeniable pleasure Wanda was provoking, but to no avail did you succeed, weakened from hours of crying and arousal. Natasha remained by your side as Wanda scratched at your thigh and hips with the fingers that weren’t knuckles deep inside of your cunt, leaving faint pink marks in the wake of her grip and touch.

“You wanted to cum, puppy. You wanted Mommy to make you cum, so now you’re going to take it, okay? Can you do that?” Natasha hummed softly, kissing you again, an easy method of distracting you though you didn’t protest, eagerly reciprocating the kiss and assuring that her own world was painted in vibrant colors for the few seconds that she allowed your tongue to tangle with hers. “Good girl. My good girl. You’re doing so well. So well for Mommy.” She coaxed you through the second orgasm that tore through your belly at an accelerated pace, just barely able to contain her surprise as your core released an onslaught of juices aimed straight at Wanda’s face. A cry of humiliation left you, but it was soothed quickly by the woman between your legs, her tongue soothing the ache in your clit before it was gone entirely.

“Shh, we’re all done. All done.” Wanda’s mouth shone brightly beneath the moonlight with your arousal, her chin dripping as she leaned above you, offering her fingers which you eagerly took into her mouth. The taste of your core was prominent, familiar as you’d been in this position a few hundred times over, but it brought peace to your hazy mind and you melted firmly into Natasha now. “You did so good for me, my little princess. So so good. Mommy’s so proud of you.” She kissed you softly, replacing her fingers with her tongue that tasted so prominently of your orgasm and arousal that you couldn’t help the whine of submission that filled the air.

“What can I get you, princess? How about some goldfish because I’m sure Natasha didn’t take a break for lunch like I told her to.” Wanda sent a pointed glare at Natasha, who bashfully shrunk into herself and shrugged half-heartedly. Lunch had most definitely slipped her mind, and she cursed beneath her breath when she realized you’d put up a fit if she tried to drag you downstairs for dinner.

“Mommy stay.” You whined, attempting to reach out and pull Wanda down onto your body, but Natasha had already seen that coming, and had tangled her fingers with yours.

“Mommy will be back so soon, pretty baby. She’s going to get you some fishies and a water, and she’s going to grab your favorite blanket from downstairs, and Daddy’s gonna wipe you down and get you dressed in some comfy pajamas. How does that sound?” Natasha easily directed Wanda to gather all of the things you’d undoubtably ask for in a few minutes when the haze of your submission lessened and your tired muscles became apparent. The Sokovian didn’t linger, instead she jumped straight into action, leaving one last kiss against your lips before she disappeared downstairs, hoping you had enough energy to get at least a couple of crackers into your body before you fell asleep.

You only agreed because you hadn’t really had a choice to begin with, but still Natasha worked with your fussy attitude and got you wiped down with a damp washcloth and redressed in pajamas that were really just stolen pieces of her and Wanda’s casual attire. When the Sokovian returned, your favorite cup in her hands filled to the brim with room temperature water, you were cuddled into Natasha’s chest, biting softly at her fingertips as she attempted to keep you awake, some animated movie playing on the tv screen above the dresser on the wall opposite the large bed you occupied. She smiled softly, throwing a protein bar at Natasha’s head, before she took you into her arms, cuddling you into her chest, wrapping you tightly in your favorite throw blanket.

You nuzzled into her chest, begrudgingly taking a sip of water when she held the straw up to your lips persistently. It soothed your scratchy throat instantaneously, subsequently allowing your previous hours of screaming and moaning to become a distant memory until tomorrow morning when you woke without a voice. The goldfish she did not get so lucky with, offering a small handful to you as you zoned into the sound of her heath beating rhythmically beneath your ear and focused on the kaleidoscope of colors morphing across the tv screen. You whined, wiggling away from her hand rather fussily, and she knew better than to agitate you farther, so rather than keep persisting, she ate them herself and pulled you in closer, her heart and soft whispering to Natasha lulling you to sleep in minutes.

“You really have to stop forgetting to eat lunch.” Wanda sighed amusedly, bringing up the age-old concern that had a near prominent spot in their conversation log. Natasa laughed sheepishly, one hand falling onto the small of your back as you turned further into Wanda’s chest, while the other reached to turn off the obnoxious film you strangely adored.

“It’s not my fault when this one decides to camp out beneath my desk.” She weakly defended, laying a tender kiss to the back of your head, your hair smelling faintly of the shampoo she kept in the upstairs shower.

“Oh sure, blame her because she’s not awake to defend herself.” Wanda retorted, rolling her eyes in exasperated fondness as she tangled her fingers into your still disheveled hair, hoping that when morning rolled around, you’d still be soft enough to request that she did your hair before she left for the gallery.

Natasha paused, a wrinkle of affection twinging her expression before she leaned forward and embraced Wanda in a tender kiss above your head. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Wanda hummed against her lips, letting her eyes flutter closed as she took in the simplicity of this moment with the both of you.

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months ago

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little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.

“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”

“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.

“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.

derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.

“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”

emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”

three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.

he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.

“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.

before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.

“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”

“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”

“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”

“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”

“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.

“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.

“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”

all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.

spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”

“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.

with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”

“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”

“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”

“i don’t like this conversation either.”

#erin writes #spencer reid #early seasons spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x pregnant!reader

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heartlilith · 9 months ago

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WHAT THE VENUS SIGNS REMIND ME OF

🩷Oddly specific things I think about when I hear ______ venus

Aries Venus: Summer, rubies, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, rollercoasters, fast cars, the color red, vampire fangs, Saturday nights, liquor stores and gas stations, fireworks, sour candy, cool bic lighters, “you’re mine”, Mario Kart, boys who wear nail polish, fuck it energy, oversized sweatshirts, middle finger emoji, cherries

Taurus Venus: Satin pillowcases, white candles, pearls, mirrors, hand holding, walking someone home at night, vinyls, red lipstick, full lips, fancy dinner dates, the wine and dine, old romantic movies, wallets and purses, hotels, French manicures, old money, “I won’t get on my knees for no man”

Gemini Venus: Driving around at night listening to music, reading to someone, comedy shows, mimosas, Samantha from Sex and the City, libraries, nerd kink, hot teachers/student kink, emerald green, laughter, swing sets, looking out of the window and just watching, untied shoelaces, dogs and puppies, dad jokes

Cancer Venus: Soft feather pillows, a bowl of warm soup, a bubble bath, tears and running mascara, babies and how babies laugh, poetry, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be”, hot tubs, hot coffee, teddy bears, heartbeats, soft hands & skin, lotion, bagels and cream cheese, doodling in your journal

Leo Venus: Lip gloss, mojitos, getting drunk at brunch, diamond tennis bracelets, drunk texts you regret sending later, the block button, lonely nights, shooting stars, blowing bubbles, piggy back rides, art museums, glittery eyeshadow, jumparoos, birthday parties

Virgo Venus: Taking a shower, Dove soap, smooth skin, symmetry, butterflies, the smell of books, getting a facial or going to the spa, chicken caesar salads, the good tasting water, chunky headphones, acoustic guitar, running errands, getting your eyebrows done, neat handwriting, neutral colors, sushi

Libra Venus: Blush, dimples, Y2K fashion, Hello Kitty, makeup skills, those little hand mirrors, princes and princesses, cupcakes, pedicures, Margaritas, taking pictures, art, castles, Disney movies, daisies, spin the bottle, cartwheels, soft hair, bubblegum, skincare, watermelon and pineapple

Scorpio Venus: Psychology, neck tattoos, “until death do us part”, Kings & Queens, snakes, sacred sex, chess, secrets, hickeys, the feeling after you stay up all night, the feeling of being at a concert, roses, knives, tequila shots, legs intertwined, dirty martinis, sparklers, Avril Lavigne, fantasy books, true crime and dark history

Sagittarius Venus: Clouds, rock climbing, rappers, Hip Hop and R&B, going on vacation, açaí bowls and fresh fruit, sun kissed/radiant skin, the color yellow, retreats, history, yoga and Pilates, spicy food, “it is what it is”, curly hair, the smell of weed, casinos, the last day of school, Las Vegas

Capricorn Venus: Leather, red wine, the cow pattern, cowgirl boots, the color brown, espresso, dark chocolate, briefcase of money like in the movies, the movie Scarface, whiskey on the rocks, bosses, owls, turtle necks, caramel, wearing suits, lingerie, business, New York City

Aquarius Venus: Lightbulbs, telescopes and microscopes, LED lights, hamsters, college parties, glitter, peace signs, 70s concerts, food trucks, skipping school, “fuck it”, diving in the pool, the beach at night, disco balls, getting detentions in school

Pisces Venus: Mermaids, kittens, cartoons and Disney princesses, champagne, Webkinz, little kid stories like Goldilocks, 3 Little Pigs, Hansel and Gretel, clear glittery lip gloss, holographic, snowmen and icicles, swimming in the pool, flower gardens, glow sticks , picnics, bumblebees, sand castles, elementary art class, 3D movies

Book a Reading 🩷

Masterlist 🩷

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astrology community #astro community #sagittarius #scorpio #leo #cancer #venus signs #venus #Leo venus #Aries venus #Taurus venus #Scorpio venus

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hazeltailofficial · 6 months ago

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Colorful summer manicure featuring all Holo Taco nail polishes! 💚💙

Holo Taco Long-Lasting Base Holo Taco Smoothing Base Holo Taco Nail Polish in Here For The Payday Holo Taco Nail Polish in Never Tide Down Holo Taco Glossy Taco

Music is Poolside Radio by Dyalla Swain

Colorful Summer Manicure 💚💙 #nails #nailpolish #holotaco #summervibes #glitternails #beauty #shorts

@hazeltailofficial / hazeltail on youtube / hazeltailofficial on tiktok / hazeltailofficial on ig

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priyablog · 2 years ago

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20 Best Places to Visit in India

Deeply traditional yet endlessly surprising, India is one of those destinations that ends up on every traveler's bucket list at some point. They might dream of going to Agra to see the Taj Mahal in all its glory, or exploring the royal palaces scattered throughout Rajasthan. Others find themselves attracted to the jaw-dropping landscapes in Darjeeling and Rishikesh, or the postcard-perfect beaches in Goa.

youtube

#The iconic India Gate #an arch gate made using sandstone #is a war memorial situated in the Rajpath area #Delhi. It was built to commemorate the Undivided British Army (also known as British India Army) soldiers who laid down their lives during #000 soldiers written on it. Surrounded by lush green and well-manicured gardens #India Gate is a favorite spot among Delhiites #who enjoy their summer evenings and Sunday picnics here with families and friends. Formerly known as All India War Memorial #it is one of the top tourist attractions to explore once you check in at the hotels in Delhi.#Want to know more? From its history and architecture to timings #entry fee #and lesser-known facts #nearest metro stations to reach by #here’s everything you should know about the Indian Gate in Delhi.#India Gate Information:#Location #Rajpath #New Delhi #Type #Memorial #Also Known as #All India War Memorial #Timings #Morning till evening; every day #Entry Fee #Free #Still and Video Cameras #Architect #Edwin Lutyens #Architectural Style #Triumphal Arch

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upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months ago

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Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[2.7K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #3

You didn’t have to wait seven whole days to see Steve again, and when you did, it wasn’t poolside.

This meant that between you both, there were a lot more clothes than normal, but you found out the hard way that that fact didn’t really make a difference to the effect he now had on you. There was a party at some rich kids house on the outskirts of town, someone called Sam that neither you nor Eddie knew all that well but Robin used to work with him at the Shake Shack and well-- if Robin was going somewhere, Steve followed, and if Steve was allowed through the door, that meant Eddie had a ticket in too.

If Eddie was there? High chance you were too.

It’s how you ended up in a neighbourhood that rivalled even Steve’s, each house sprawled out across green manicured lawns and the pools out the back were almost as large as the one you were learning in, a shiny red slide to boot. Three stories, arched windows, a winding driveway to a three door garage and when you entered behind Eddie, the crystal chandelier in the foyer was vibrating to the beat of the music.

Two guys you recognised from the trailer park grabbed Eddie as he pushed his way through the crowd, your fingers hooked in his as he dragged you behind him. They were ready with cash, bills rolled up and an eagerly impatient look in their already glassy eyes, so you waved the boy away and headed to the kitchen, a safe enough sanctuary as you skirted around the makeshift dance floor that had been created in the living room. It seemed that anyone over seventeen and anyone under thirty was at the party, the large space full to the brim with drunken strangers, people moving to the synths of INXS.

The pushed back furniture made it difficult to move around the gyrating bodies, Sam’s parent’s cream coloured carpet already stained and sticky with questionable substances. The lights had been switched off and someone had strung multicoloured Christmas lights around the curtain poles, around the second chandelier above the coffee table. There was a broken disco ball sitting in a wall sconce, pink and green and blue hitting off each mirrored tile, making everything glitter.

You saw Steve before you could make it to the kitchen, rainbows on his cheeks, a stripe of colours across his lips. He was talking to a girl - a pretty redhead who had a drink in one hand and Steve’s bicep in another. The sight of him made you feel as warm as a saturday morning, as if you were walking into water with his naked chest in front of you, his pink cheeks and sleep mussed hair just for your eyes only. It felt almost unfair to see him now, surrounded by others, touched by someone else. He looked just as pretty with a striped shirt on, his hair styled and curling around his ears and neck, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket as the other gripped a beer.

His gaze caught your own, a fleeting thing before recognition clicked at the sight of you and then Steve was moving, the redhead’s fingers catching at his sleeve before he was in front of you, her frown behind him.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Steve was smiling, eyes drinking in the corners like he was genuinely happy to bump into you. He craned his neck and spotted Eddie, raising his beer in greeting. “You want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah.” You smiled back, heart in your throat because Steve was placing a familiar hand on the small of your back in order to steer you into the kitchen and Eddie was grinning, a full beam that made your cheeks warm. “A drink sounds good.”

You let Steve pour you a vodka and lemonade, and he fumbled an ice tray he found in the back of the freezer, the fizz spilling over the rim of the glass as he handed it to you with a grin. You watched him lick the soda from his fingers, his eyes on yours as he smiled still, his cheeks a little pink and it felt like you were back in middle school and the pretty, popular boy was giving you too much attention.

You weren’t sure why, but you lapped it up happily.

Taking a gulp, you hummed, happy that your drink didn’t burn on the way down and Steve stayed close, his hand gone from the small of your back but his shoulder bumped yours and you could smell his cologne, leftover sunscreen and hairspray.

“You ready for lesson three tomorrow or are you planning on getting black out?” Steve asked with raised brows. “I gotta tell you now, legally, I’m not covered for drownings due to hangovers.”

You rolled your eyes, lips lifting into a smile you tried to suppress because you had absolutely no intention of getting messy drunk in the vicinity of Steve Harrington, with or without the threat of swimming the day after.

“It depends,” you joked anyway, “what does lesson three include?”

Steve smirked, leaning close, hair falling across his forehead and you could see the freckles over his nose, the glint of the chain he wore flashing under the collar of his t-shirt. “M’not sure I should tell you now.” He was all charm, a cheekiness you normally didn’t get to see up close. “You might stand me up.”

You scoffed, a dismissive sound that barely covered your embarrassment because you were sure that your eyes were wide enough to show off how flustered you were. You took another long sip, lemonade and bubbles coating your tongue and you watched Steve stare at the way you licked the vodka from your lips.

“I wouldn’t stand you up,” you murmured, barely heard over the thud of the music.

The boy beamed, ecstatic. “You wouldn’t?”

“Not unless you were planning something drastic, you know, like swimming.”

A laugh burst from Steve’s chest, his eyes shining with an amusement you were proud of producing. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, spreading his feet wide enough that you were able to stand between them. Not too close, not too suggestive, just close enough to each other that girls glared at you and no one tried to interrupt.

“Swimming? In a pool?” Steve cocked his head to the side, one hand nursing his beer, the other reaching out to poke at your side. You squirmed, amazed at how such a friendly touch seemed just as intimate as his hands on your bare back, keeping you afloat. He frowned at you, all faux confusion that made him look unbearably cute. “Who the fuck would think of that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to stop smiling. Come to think of it, your cheeks ached a little, your grin permanently etched onto your lips since you saw Steve, whether it was from being flustered or amused. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest light and you barely noticed anyone else in the room.

It’s why you jumped when two hands caught your shoulders, a diabolical cackle in your ear as you recognised the scent of smoke and old spice a little too late. Eddie smelled like childhood and home but now, standing in a strangers kitchen with Steve Harrington, you couldn’t have been less impressed with your friend’s appearance.

“Hey, there’s a good chance I can shift the last of this green if I hit up this party on Maple Street,” Eddie half yelled over the music, his arm draped over your shoulder in a too familiar way. You wanted to elbow him. “You comin’ with or—?”

He was glancing at Steve over your head, brows raised, suggestive and waiting on an answer from him rather than you. You swallowed hard, noticing how Steve had seemed just as disappointed as you at Eddie’s arrival but he shrugged, nonchalant. “I could walk you home later,” the beer in his hand glinted in the low light, his fingers tightening around it. He smiled, eyes soft, “I don’t mind.”

You wanted to say yes. Fuck, you wanted to say yes so bad and the word was costing your tongue, buzzing and excited, a fizzy candy explosion. But you took too long to look at the boy, tanned skin and messy hair, scruff on his jaw that he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, the freckles on his cheeks and neck that made you want to touch them.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed a boy, never mind one you really liked. And perhaps that wasn’t even on the cards, maybe Steve didn’t like you in that way at all - but the idea of being alone in the darkened room with strangers, people you didn’t know and people who wouldn’t care if you fell into each other - it suddenly seemed a little too much for one night.

“Um, it’s— it’s okay,” you told him regretfully. You hated the way his eyes seemed to lose a little warmth, his lips turning down before he righted himself. “I should probably just go with Eddie.”

“Pussy,” Eddie coughed, barely concealed and Steve stared at the ground, cheeks pink.

You really did elbow your friend then, the sharp point of your arm finding his rims and he kicked at the back of your heel, childlike in the way he scuffled to get you back in a way that really wasn’t subtle.

“Thank you, though,” you smiled at Steve, hopeful that he’d return the gesture. He did, although not as warm as before, not as confident as he’d been as he’d guided you to the kitchen with a wide hand on your back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, right?”

Steve sank the last of his drink, licking it from his lips before nodding. He was already back out of the kitchen and you tried not to look defeated. “Yeah, ‘course,” he told you. “See you in the morning.”

“Well,” Eddie watched Steve retreat, his hand slapping down on your slumped shoulder. “You fucked that, didn’t you?”

Steve was already in the pool when you arrived the next morning, still sleep mussed and frazzled from the way your alarm had blared too loud. Despite three weeks of early mornings, it was still a struggle to pull yourself from bed. But the promise of a warm day, pink-blue skies and Steve Harrington made it so much easier than you ever thought.

You paused at the loungers for longer than you needed, your toes curling at the thought of stripping off your shorts and shirt because the swimsuit underneath was newer and skimpier and cherry red. Steve was underwater, swimming effortlessly beneath the surface from the shallows to the depths you weren’t brave to venture to yet.

So you took the opportunity to pull off your t-shirt, a ratty old thing that used to be Eddie's and you cursed picking it up from your floor, hoping Steve wouldn’t get the wrong idea despite how many times you’d told him that Eddie was just your friend.

You let it fall to the sun warmed tiles just as Steve broke the surface, pushing his hair back with one hand as he grasped the edge of the pool with the other. He grinned when he saw you, a familiar and friendly thing that made your heart jump but his gaze darted to your chest, just for a second, just for a tiny moment, and you remembered to feel shy.

“New suit?” Steve asked, sounding casual, his brows raised as if it didn’t really matter what the answer was.

You wondered what he’d say if you told him you’d bought it with him in mind, what he’d say if he knew you’d stared at your half naked frame in your bedroom mirror for far too long, inspecting each curve, each bruise, all the old silver scars and stretch marks, stripes along your thighs that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. This suit dipped low in the back, as modest as it still was in the chest. Would he think your boobs were too small? Too big? Too flat? Uneven? Could he tell?

Would it matter?

It was a vibrant colour against your skin, the same red as the cherries you’d scooped in your smoothie before you’d left, a shade off of Steve’s lifeguard shorts. It seemed too bright now, too silly, but you nodded regardless and tried not to make a big deal out of it.

Steve leant on the pool edge, chin resting on his tanned forearms, water dripping from his wet hair, clinging to his too long lashes. He tilted his head, appraising, gaze gentle, never staring. “S’nice. Colour looks good on you.”

His words made it a lot easier for you to unbutton your shorts and slip the denim over your hips. Chin ducked, you couldn’t hold eye contact, not bold enough quite yet. But you let the shorts drop from your thighs, hitting the tiles and you kicked them under the sun lounger as you flicked off your sliders at the same time. The sun was already blazing, rising higher in the sky, turning the tangerine edges into a warm blue and the heat of it slipped over your skin like a blanket.

Feeling a little less naked than before, you walked to the shallows, Steve swimming the length of the pool to meet you. You stopped just shy of the stairs, lips pressed together and brow furrowed, contemplating. Steve stopped too, watchful as you considered your next move the boy positively beamed when you dropped down to sit at the edge of the water.

The surface lapped at Steve waist when he stood, not too deep but certainly not the gentle entrance you’d become accustomed to. You cringed as you slipped both feet into the cool water, hands curling around the edge of the pool until your knuckles burned.

“Yeah?” Steve coaxed, sounding impressed. Proud. “You’ve got it. You can just slide right in, you’ll touch the bottom.”

You knew you would. The logic was in front of you, just like the bottom of the pool was very much visible. Looking down, you could see Steve’s feet on the tiles, rippling into funny shapes and sizes, his bare legs, just as tanned as the rest of him and dusted with coarse hair. He was planted there firmly, no current or waves to knock him over, steady as ever.

He lay his hands on the top of the water, palms up. His gaze met your own, his smile warmer than the morning. “I’m right here.”

It was comforting, his words, his closeness, even if you didn’t take his hands, he kept them there, waiting. It was enough for you to lean forward, bum slipping off of the warm tiled edge and into the cool water. You gasped as always from the shock of the temperature difference, the water rippling around the tops of your ribs and it was enough to make your nipples pebble, glaringly obvious under the new, thinner material of your suit.

If Steve noticed, he didn’t dare look down.

He did take a step forward though, enough for his toes to touch yours and you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose, could see the chlorine water that still made his lashes cling together in spikes. It was intimate enough to make you wonder if something like this would’ve happened the night before if you’d stayed. If you had let Eddie and the boy shaped comfort blanket that he was go, if you’d hung back with Steve and shared secrets and drinks under the multicoloured lights, if you’d let him walk you home under the glow of street lamps.

If he would’ve kissed you at your front door.

But then the gate clanked noisily against the chain link fence and there was a splash big enough to soak your chest and the side of your face - Steve’s too - both screwed up in shock.

Eddie appeared from the water - the deeper, indigo coloured end - shaking his sopping curls like a wet, disobedient dog, his tattooed chest bare and much paler than Steve’s. He grinned through his curls, oblivious to whatever he’d just interrupted, his arms spread wide.

“What’s up, fuckers?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot

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mistydeyes · 1 year ago

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hiiiii I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!!!!!! Can you please do 141 with a model reader who does Chanel,Versace etc and she gets an invite to do Victoria’s Secret runway and they see her down the runway how would they react

she’s not any model shes and icon,sex symbol,brains,she is the moment

big inspo for me ( I want to become a model)

AHHH I LOVE THIS! anon i feel you tho, every time i look on pinterest i just want to be a model! thank you for requesting <3

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summary: The 141 has always had an odd connection of friends, allies, and connections. However, they can't deny that they don't enjoy your luxurious life as a model and the perks that come along with attending one of your shows.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

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A series of events in Milan allowed the 141 to cross paths with you. Staying in a lavish French penthouse was far from what they had expected on a mission dictated by Laswell but her connections with your retired INTERPOL mother had brought them the extravagance of your home and lifestyle. Laswell had to threaten to have their court marshaled if they delayed their arrival home any longer. You thought of that brief moment in summer fondly as you left Gaz a voicemail. "I have a runway in New York coming up, let me know if you'll be on leave," you spoke on the phone, examining your manicured nails, "accommodations and champagne are on me."

"This is nice," Price said, dropping his duffle onto the marbled tile of their hotel room. "Are you kidding, Cap?" Gaz said as he opened every door into the massive suite, "This is fucking amazing." When they got off the plane at JFK, they had not expected a private driver who brought them to the ornate hotel. The room itself had four separate bedrooms with two bathrooms filled with the best amenities. Soap had taken the opportunity to run over and open a bottle of champagne while Ghost pilfered the small shampoo and conditioner bottles. While the men explored the vast rooms and fought over the beds, there was a knock at the door. Price opened it to reveal a well-dressed bell-hop boy, holding a tray with an envelope. "Four tickets sent by one of the models," he spoke and Price handled the black envelope with embossed pink lettering. "Hell of invitation," he muttered before he looked at the runway time and shared the details with his team. "Wonder what she'll be wearing," Soap mused as he turned to take over one of the bathrooms.

Behind the stage, there was organized chaos with models running around in their silk robes in between the stations. The chatter roared as they chatted with the various hair stylists and makeup artists. "First VS show?" your makeup artist asked as she applied glitter delicately to your primed lids. "Yes, but not my first modeling gig," you smiled as you felt the pressure on your closed eyes, "Versace was beyond a mess compared to this." The artist laughed as she continued to prep your look. You could see mixes of pink and gold applied to your lips and the apples of your cheeks. "We think an olive green liner would look stunning on you," she said before holding a green eyeliner pencil in hand. You nodded in response as you shifted a bit in your robe. You gently closed your eyes again as you envisioned your latest outfit for the night.

Weeks prior you had visited the city to see your outfit for the night. A sage green bra and panty set decorated with pink and glittery flowers to resemble a meadow. Your wings were made of a delicate rose pink chiffon that was reminiscent of a fairy. "Do you like?" the designer asked as you walked around the stand and examined every stitch and detail. You smiled as you nodded happily, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips. "Any particular inspiration?" you questioned as you made sure to feel the weight of the wings. "The newest line of Victoria's Secret," she spoke dreamily, "the delicacy of nature."

With your makeup and hair done, you walked over to change and receive the final touches from the design team. The group walked rapidly around your figure, assuring every detail would shine when the lights hit your walk. "Have anyone special here tonight?" one of the designers asked as he cut a few loose stitches. "Just a few friends from Europe," you spoke, hoping you didn't sound too entitled. You wanted to talk more but your odd friendship with a small special forces group would definitely reach some tabloids. "You look perfect darling," another designer spoke and you nodded before beginning to walk in your heels. "You can mingle with the others. Your collection is after the classics set," she reminded. You took a deep breath and made some facetious conversation with the other women. They were in awe at your previous shows but you just simply talked as if each was a mediocre experience. "Alright ladies, walk begins in five," a voice called over the comms and you lined up accordingly. As you watched the excited group in front of you, you wondered what you would treat the 141 to for dinner. You were sure if someone knew this is what you thought of before a show, they would laugh.

"Move up, Y/N," the stage manager directed, pulling you out of your food-related musings, "almost time for you to go on." You moved forward, getting into the comfort of your model walk you had done so many times before. You took a deep breath as you heard the live music stream through the curtains and the ethereal light peek through. You looked down at your attire one last time before the model ahead of you returned and it was your turn to awe the show. "Go, go, go," you could hear the stage manager command as the bright lights and menagerie of faces met your gaze.

"I think this is her!" Gaz commented, leaning forward in his chair. "You've been saying that for the past four models," Ghost corrected before he turned to see who was coming out next. As the men directed their gaze to the stage, you confidently strutted onto the platform. They were glued to your figure, perfectly accentuated by the flirtatious lingerie set. The details were delicate and encapsulated your aura. "Fuck." Soap whispered under his breath as the glitter and flower additions to your ensemble shimmered underneath the light. Your wings bounced and looked like they flittered in the air as you made your way in front of the watching crowd. "She's a natural at this," Price commented as he watched the way you walked in a straight line with an air of elegance in each step. He also couldn't deny the way you shined on stage and how the cameras clicked in rapid succession. As you reached the end of the runway, you took an opportunity to look over at the seats you had picked for the 141. You gave a small wink before blowing a kiss in their direction.

Upon your exiting, there was a clamor amongst the group as to who the kiss was directed to. Primarily, Soap and Gaz were at odds thinking you made eye contact with them as you puckered your glossed lips. Price attempted to put a stop to them before Ghost spoke up. "I'm sure that was for me," he spoke quietly, leaving everyone to shelf the conversation and bring it up later over dinner.

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