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bunicate · 1 year ago

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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ BY YOUR SIDE . pierro x fem reader

warning ꒱ྀི incest. ddlg dynamics. daddy kink [ papa + dada ] . size kink. creampie. reader kinda being a litl brat / repost / unedited as always :p / wc ꒱ 2.5k / 18+ / ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

there’s the faintest, most desperate echo of a mewl that can be heard from outside the biggest room reserved for no one other than the first harbinger himself.

fourteen days he was away from you. fourteen days without your touch. fourteen days he was unable to see you. fourteen days without inhaling your scent. fourteen long, bitter, cold days pierro spent missing you and still, finally graced with your presence, he’s as composed as ever.

he leans until his back hits his chair, and he relaxes. with his half-empty wine glass discarded on a nearby tray, he eases himself down from his budding desire with deep and steady inhales and exhales. his eyes are clouded over with lust.

the level of patience pierro possessed was carefully crafted throughout the many years he’s been alive. his resilience has never been more clear than it is right now, as his daughter, whom he loves so dearly, clamored over him half-naked.

he found your struggle to be quite a show. chin resting on calloused fingers, he occasionally rubs the scruff of his stark white beard. It’s become habitual for you to crawl and seat yourself on his thick thighs. pouty and close to tears, your fingers claw at his polished suit to steady yourself.

he’s always been the one to take the lead, but he’s forfeited that control momentarily, allowing you to use him to your heart's content.

your chest bares from the looseness of your clothes, and his facade slips only slightly. your hips swivel clumsily, and his erect cock bounces off the plumpness of your butt. he releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

you raise your bottom higher, placing his cock right against your wet slit that stained the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft. his body tenses at the contact, his eyes zeroing in on the pretty sheen that coated his remarkable length.

“hnnn.”

a strangled moans escape when it skims over the surface of your twitchy button—a gentle caress with enough pressure to make your back arch.

it was difficult prepping yourself for the first time, but you refused his help. you were like him in so many ways. you’re a creature constantly chasing perfection. one attempt after the other until you’d be rewarded with what your efforts promised, but pierro just didn’t want to see you hurt.

“take it easy, little one.”

his hand cups the softness of your ass, lightly squeezing it. you shake your head. brows pulled together and lips trembling as the drag of your cunt wets him further.

he expected you to behave like this.

a recent conflict pulled him away longer than he expected, and he knows that in his absence, you were unsatisfied. your fingers are not nearly as thick and long as his to ease that ruminating ache between your legs, but he was here now to finally take over, and you wouldn’t let him.

holding your chin, he tilts your head up. you see the concern sewn into his mature features.

“I'm not going anywhere; you don’t need to rush.” it’s a very simple affirmation, but it did nothing to relieve your troubles.

‘liar’ you want to retort, but you choose to remain silent. the truth is, he couldn’t promise that. you knew he’d leave again, and each time you were never sure if he’d return. how you managed to have such little faith in a man who’s lived nearly half a millennia and witnessed such catastrophes was unheard of.

to others, he’s feared—untouchable, unscathed, a force to be reckoned with, but somehow a much smaller and weaker girl— his girl worries for him dearly. It's humorous, but he could never, in good faith, hold it against you. It's been too long since he’s felt the delicate touch of another and to be looked after with such care. he’d readily take as much as he could.

you put your hand on his shoulder, and the other grabs his cock by the thickest part as it comes to life in your palm. it’s warm and beads pre-cum that slowly drips, following the path of his most protruding vein. there’s a feeling that shoots through your body, and it’s all too familiar as you watch the milky drops descend.

you have to bite back another broken moan.

hovering over his dick, you cushion it right against your entrance, swaying from the slight loss of balance. finding your footing, you try once again to tuck him between your walls, but the leakiness of your cunt makes the head of his cock slip. your frustration was an understatement.

pierro watched you closely as you moved sloppily. stuck in a mulish state, you’d rather fumble instead of asking for his help.

“you’re going to hurt yourself, love,” he remarks. while aroused by the brief contact of skin, pierro remained humbled at your show of defiance.

you make a noise, brushing off his concern and rolling your shoulders to straighten up.

“don't care, ‘need to have you inside of me.”

you huff your chest every time his smooth tip rubs your slippery opening. tracing it against the silky folds of your cunt, they separate as you struggle to insert him. you begin to brace yourself. it only takes a few more shaky attempts until his cock finally penetrates with a swift and brutal plunge.

“hmmph—!”

you can’t stop twitching around him when he’s buried so deep. your head hangs back, and your bit lip is barely enough to keep the hiss at bay. no amount of rubbing against his thigh could ever prepare you for that piercing stretch that churned your insides. the stretch that forces your legs further apart and makes your eyes tighten in desperation.

your stomach flexes, and anxiety wrecks you. you breathe audibly, finding it in yourself to remain calm, but archons — you were a few thrusts from already cumming.

“do you need papa to help you ?”

his voice stirs you from concentration, and it borders on breaking.

pierro would be a liar if he said watching you take him didn’t bring a sense of triumph. riding him was no easy task. even after countless nights and all sorts of positions, his girth still proved to be a challenge, one that would take a lifetime for you to master, and that was one of the few things he could actually promise you, time.

but you ignore him and the concern in his tone. you’re a big girl, you don’t need his help. you’ll have all of him inside of you even without the wonderful burn of his fingers to help loosen your gummy walls.

you inhale slowly hoping that it will somehow allow the tension to subside and it does. it takes a minute, maybe two until the pressure feels comfortable. you’re still not quite all the way down, there’s another few centimeters left until he’s fully sheathed inside your walls. you’ve been resting your weight on your toes that dangled close to the floor and you know you should in fact take your time, but your body refuses to cooperate.

it's a wet plop from your thighs and ass meeting his groin when you force him in.

“h-hah—!“

pierro’s cock sharply hits your precious cervix and your eyes reel back into your skull. your daddy pats your leg encouragingly. even now he could barely fathom how such a small pussy could be so accommodating.

“there you go.”

inevitably, the praise still made your chest feel heavy. “that’s it, sweet girl.” that baritone voice made blood rush to your cheeks. lightheaded is what you felt. all the fire you once possessed turned into a lovesick, numbing feeling that left you unable to retain any air. especially when he adjusted his hips and his veiny cock bumped your cervix once more.

“ah— f-fuck!” you whine.

the hand on your thigh squeezes your softness as a warning.

“language.”

you're winded up so tight, afraid that if you moved an inch, you’d cum. the tears that brimmed your waterline fall.

“s-sorry papa.” you sniffle, “but it’s so deep, n’ I feel it stretching inside me.”

“does it hurt?" he hums. “would you like to stop?”

you shake your head profusely.

“no! please, I don’t wanna stop, not yet.”

unwilling to be separated from him, you lean on his chest. it’s warm and reminds you that you couldn’t be anywhere safer. slowly, you begin to ride his cock. a messy rhythm that did enough to please you.

his dick presses against your insides as your hips rotate in sloppy circles. your clit brushes against his skin with every move, pulling you closer to the end you missed so desperately.

you speed up, chasing that feeling selfishly until it grows and becomes too powerful to control.

“daddy . . .” you try to halt your hips, but you can’t stop the desperation. you settle for slowing down even more, but it only seems to drag the pleasure out further.

“I might make a mess” you mumble. you tuck yourself closer to his chest again to escape the burning flush of embarrassment.

pierro knows your body better than you do and even before your own realization, he was able to quickly assess your expression and feel how your cunt pulses around him. he understands what’s happening before you do.

“just focus on me. focus on papa.”

you nod.

it takes a moment to get the courage to move faster, but his cock nestling in your cunt couldn’t placate you. your humps pick up, and your thinking crumbles to know people stood less than 10 feet away, walking past the room. knowing they could possibly be hearing the moist noises of your cunt while you fucked him sloppily. the nervousness wasn't present; instead, a sweltering, mind-breaking urge grew. one that turns your stomach into knots and makes your your knees dig into his hips

“let it out, my dear.”

your legs lock around him, and a disgruntled groan leaves his lips as your pussy clenches.

“daddy. ” your nails scratch him, but he doesn’t flinch nor shy away. his hardened skin from years of ruthless battles could surely withstand the dig of his daughter's nails.

with a petulant whine and submissive arch of your back, your pillowy breasts block his vision while you seize around him. clenching and unclenching, arousal streams down his massive cock and sprays his front in spurts. your hand comes to rub at your clit to ride out the addicting high.

pierro could only watch in awe. how quick and easily you came to make his shaft throb to the beat of dull and erratic twinges.

“pretty girl, you’re going to make this old man faint.”

he presses a kiss on your nipple, holding you while your cunt continues to milk him. he hasn’t yet reached his own high and still he makes no effort to rush your come down. he’s far from a selfish lover, but that was something that came naturally as it’s his job as your father to make sure you are pleased in all aspects.

pierro’s cock remained snuggled inside of you. he pressed light kisses on your skin, as your breathing slows. before you can lose yourself in it, the scratch of his beard makes you pull away. turning up your nose, you make a noise of disapproval.

“you need to shave, daddy.”

he rubs his chin to feel his beard himself. it has been a while since he’s given it a trim. “you don’t like it?”

you take a second to think, staring at the thick gray covering the lower half of his face. “that depends. can I shave it for you?”

his eyes widen a bit, and his head turns away. “that’s . . . dangerous.”

you frown. “then no, I don’t like it.”

pierro laughs, and he rubs the sides of his face against your soft cheek, the hair of his beard uncomfortably prickling your face.

“w-what, what are you doing?” the scratches against your face mushed you two closer. his nose and lips poking you until your lips clumsily collide.

“papa, stop!” giggling, you push him away, but he holds you still. the kiss is uncoordinated at first because of your laughs, but he doesn’t mind it. one peck and then another until your lips are interlocked, moving at a slow pace that manages to steal your breath.

he groans when you move closer, and he guides your hips, hoping to drag more moans out for the rest of the night. feeling his cock throb, you remember he didn’t finish, but it didn’t take long to transition from the playful atmosphere to what it was once prior. the arousal was now thick in the air, weighing you down into submission.

your father picks you up with ease and fucks you like a toy. rough hands resting on your hips drag you up and down on his cock. the schlick schlick of his cum-coated length, plunging so deeply until it kisses your womb.

“cum inside me, d-dada, use me. use me to make you cum.”

“keep talking like that, baby; daddy is so close.” your pussy puffs from his slams. how something so small can manage to swallow his sheer size amazes him. balls slap against your ass, his grip on your body is tight, digging into you, and such a display of strength it was.

“y’r so deep. . my cunny was made for you.” the words are uttered in pauses from the force of his motioning hips. your tits point towards the ceiling—your nipples, perked and moist from his eager mouth, bounce, and the sight makes any remaining coherent thought disperse.

“you’re going to take every last drop of my seed.” it’s not a question but a demand, and like you were taught, you pleasantly comply.

“yes, daddy.” the veins in his arm are pretty and decorative. you look at his flexing muscles the way you’d look at a painting. eyes, absorbing the details that marked his brown skin. sweat trailing down his massive frame.

you want to kiss him, but your wrists are bound by his hand. maybe they’ll bruise later, but it’s not a concern of yours, you only want to see the man above reach his completion.

“make it so full with your cum until it leaks out of my little pussy,” you say barely a whisper, but the effect on him is still the same.

a gruff growl tumbles from his mouth, and his grip grows tighter.

“I'm gonna give it to you. daddy is going to fucking breed you, darling.” he uses your body to pump his cock, losing himself to the massaging of your tight walls.

his cock swells inside your creamy pussy, and then a stream of cum jets out. milky ribbons plugging you to the brim until it spills from the sides.

“ah–thaaat’s it. that’s my little girl .” he grunts. squeezing you tightly, the sound of his mess squelching in the now warm room could be heard. countless nights have ended with him buried in you, and still, your cunt managed to make him feel like a young man.

he rests his head back and swallows audibly to catch himself. you watch him in amusement at his sudden breathlessness.

“just give. . . *whew* papa a minute,” he sighs.

#will edit dis tmrw #૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #tw:incest #pierro x reader smut #pierro x you #pierro x reader #pierro smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #female reader

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keigosdear · 2 months ago

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fem!reader, no physical descriptions. soft, fingering, allusions to future sex. very short <3

divider by @/cafekitsune

no thoughts just lazy make out sessions with keigo where one of hands finds it’s way in between your legs.

maybe it’s after a long patrol he wants to get off his mind, maybe it’s just a lazy sunday, but no matter the context, you don’t complain one bit.

you’re laying back on the bed in a tank top and some panties, keigo is on top of you, holding himself up with one arm and letting the other trail all over your body slowly and with no destination in mind.

he smiles a little against your lips when the hand he slips under your tank top gently grazes your skin and makes you giggle slightly. he’s sure to pull the top over your chest and without missing a beat, his hand is immediately all over the pillowy mounds.

he inhales your gasps as he thumbs at and pinches your nipples, devours your rising lust by trailing his hand down your body until it reaches your panties. you wrap your arms around his neck and lean up just as much as he’ll let you to keep him as close as possible.

slowly, his fingers begin teasing your covered pussy with the slightest amount of pressure. with a whine from you, he decides to slip his hand beneath the band and play with your clit.

slow, gentle circles from his semi-rough fingertips make it clear to you that his end goal isn’t to make you cum, but rather to make you feel good.

and god, are you feeling good.

he happily swallows any noises that spill from your lips with his kisses, languid and sloppy but full of love.

it feels like only seconds have passed until you’re wet enough for him to slip two fingers past your slit. you suck in a breath as he scissors them inside of you.

he smiles against your lips when he feels you clench around them, parting briefly to coo at you and remind you to relax a bit.

he doesn’t move fast, doesn’t immediately aim for the one spot that’ll drive you crazy, but the atmosphere you’ve both built mixed with how lazily he explores your inner walls has you whining and rolling your hips into his palm anyway.

“someone’s desperate,” he teases, nudging his nose against yours.

“keigo, please,” you beg, needing more than what he’s been offering.

he hums, pretends to think about it for a moment, before he’s angling his fingers just right and cranking up the dial of his thrusts from zero to one hundred.

it rips a high pitched cry of his name out of you, and you hear him snicker. “k-keigo!”

you grip his wrist hard enough for his hand to start tingling, but he feels your walls flutter more frequently and focuses solely on getting you off.

your moans only spur him on, so he kisses the sensitive spots on your neck and makes use of his thumb by rubbing your clit with just enough pressure to get you creaming around his digits.

your back arches as you cum. he slows his fingers a bit as he works you through it, before stopping completely. he readjusts and uses his free hand to pull your panties off completely.

he whistles at the sight of your slick folds and pulls his fingers out, meeting your eyes as he licks them clean. you turn your head and cover your face, but he makes a disapproving noise. “keep your eyes on me, sweets. I’m not done with you just yet.”

he lays down on his stomach and pulls your thighs over his shoulders. “I still need to clean you up, after all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed :3

#keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader smut #hawks smut #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader

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ohnoitstbskyen · 11 months ago

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So, considering what's going on with Riot right now, do you think Arcane Season 2 got caught up in all of this restructuring?

Yes and no. Arcane season 2 is part of the reason for the restructuring.

As I understand it, internally at Riot, after Arcane was a huge (and more importantly: prestigious!) success, the decision was made to basically hand the entirety of the game's lore and story over to the Entertainment division within Riot. These are the people in large part responsible for projects like Arcane, K/DA, Heartsteel, that animated series China got, all that sort of thing.

The writers at Riot were basically told to flat out stop producing new content and lore for the game - that's why there's BEEN no new story content for League for over a year - because everything was going to be consolidated under the Entertainment division from now on. This is why Riot started talking about "One Runeterra" and "Arcane is going to be canon" and so on.

The success of Arcane convinced executives that what League of Legends needs is a singular cohesive brand with its most successful public property leading the charge, Arcane is going to be the gateway drug, the hook on the end of the line that brings new players and new paying customers into the exciting world of the League of Legends multimedia IP universe!

Nevermind that Arcane's story and worldbuilding is fundamentally incompatible with >checks notes< the overwhelming majority of Runeterra as it exists and enormous compromises would have to be made to either the world of Runeterra or Arcane itself to make it work. Arcane is the big shiny prestigious mainstream Emmy-award winning project that every executive wants to put their name next to, and like companies Pivoting To Video in 2015 because Facebook showed them inflated viewership stats, Riot Games is Pivoting To Arcane. It's better than them pivoting to crypto and NFTs, at least, although I know for a fact that high ranking people at Riot tried to make that happen too.

Now, the primary cause for all of these games industry layoffs is that interest rates aren't zero anymore. Borrowing money isn't free, the curve of constant growth has ever so slightly slowed, taking on debt is becoming a little tiny bit more risky than it was previously, and corporations are responding to this with massive rounds of layoffs and constriction to show "financial responsibility" and prove to shareholders that they are prioritizing core growth strategies and blah blah blah etc. They're also trying to kneecap the growing labor movement in the games industry and exert downwards pressure on wages, but the interest rates seem to have been the main thing.

In Riot's particular case, a secondary reason is they want to pivot the focus of the company to support their One Runeterra pipe dream, so a lot of the people who got fired at Riot are writers, artists, creative leads and sometimes extremely senior and successful staff who are now surplus to requirements. This is also why Riot shut down Riot Forge in the same round of layoffs - can't have a bunch of talented indie devs going off making video games that don't adhere to the new One Runeterra policy. What if someone played Mageseeker and got confused how there can be mages all over Demacia but somehow there are no mages in Arcane's Piltover and Zaun. That's a plot hole! People write snarky articles about that sort of thing. It turns off new consumers! What if Cinema Sins makes a video making fun of it?!?

So yeah. A bunch of cocaine-addled fame hungry executive vultures at Riot are absolutely gagging on their own d*cks to put their name next to Arcane related projects, and since they were going to be screwing hundreds of people out of their careers, healthcare, and in some cases their fucking visa status anyway, it seems to have presented a nice opportunity to clear the board for their latest Visionary Scheme for the company IP.

That is as I understand the situation, anyway. I'm a bitter old man and most of what I hear is second hand and anonymous gossip through my social networks, take what I say with a grain of salt, but I've followed this company for (oh god) twelve years now and I have developed a tragically keen understanding of how its executive class operates.

#league of legends #riot games #arcane #arcane season 2 #runeterra #games industry #layoffs

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g1rld1ary · 10 months ago

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you never disappointed me - part two

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; percy and beckendorf's plan to set you up with luke is in motion, but you're extremely resistant to any advances (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3462

➻ warnings: swearing, ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos

➻ thank u so much for all the love on part 1 I am such a happy gal!!!!! also, have my first day at uni tomorrow (so pls wish me luck) and sorry if updates slow down!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It turned out that getting you to go out with Luke was harder than he’d originally anticipated. Eager for the whole ordeal to be over and for him to be 50 dollars richer, he’d hopped down from his spot on a fallen log and hurried to meet you by the volleyball courts when your match ended. You, unaware of Luke’s agenda, were fanning your face to combat some of the sweat that had accumulated, quickly tightening the messy ponytail you’d tied. Luke watched you in your own world, unbothered by anybody watching you, unlike the rest of your siblings. Sucking in a quick breath for confidence he approached you.

“Hey there, girly,” He smiled, “How’re you doing?” You looked up at him, inquisitive for a moment but ultimately unimpressed.

“Sweating like a pig actually, and yourself?” You were barely looking at him, skulling an impressive amount of your water bottle quickly. He stared at you, not expecting to be dismissed so easily. He recovered smoothly, not prepared to give up so soon.

“You really know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?”

“My mission in life,” You shot him a cloying smile, now giving him your full attention, unable to help being slightly interested by his boldness. “But obviously I’ve struck your fancy, so you see it worked. The world makes sense again.” You‘d figured out his motives now and had no interest, so began the walk back to your cabin. He followed, much to your dismay. Couldn’t men ever take the hint?

“So I’ll pick you up Friday then?”

“Oh right, Friday, uh huh.” You kept your eyes ahead, dodging a few younger kids as Luke trailed after you, annoyingly optimistic still.

“The night I take you places you’ve never been before,” He said, and you looked at him in disbelief. The ego on this kid!

“Right, like the makeout clearing in the forest? Do you even know my name, Castellan?” Luke could tell that you were mocking him, but he still had high hopes.

“I know a lot more than you think.” He smiled then, a lopsided thing that would have been somewhat charming if you’d actually bothered to look. Instead you were already walking away, calling out a “Doubtful. Very doubtful,” over your shoulder as you picked up into a run, presumably to go tell Clarisse about the bizarre experience you just had. Luke watched you go, dumbstruck in the middle of camp.

Percy and Beckendorf watched the exchange from the porch of the Hephaestus cabin, the latter putting his head in his hands dramatically.

“We’re screwed,” He groaned and Percy winced slightly.

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, dude. Luke has faced a lot worse than a teenage girl.”

When you sat at dinner that night, desperately avoiding the eye contact Luke seemed desperate on initiating, you almost told Silena about your bizarre day. You’d opened your mouth to start the story when you realised that she’d only be encouraged by Luke’s antics, pressuring you into going out with him for her own benefit and quickly shut it. She’d noticed your odd behaviour and searched for meaning in your face. Panicking for something to replace the conversation, you zeroed in on the necklace sitting nicely on top of her camp one.

“Where’d you get the pearls?” You asked, already dreading the answer. Silena only confirmed your fears, claiming them as your grandmother’s with a coy smile.

“So what? You’ve just been hiding them the last three years?” You were always closest with your grandmother, and you were sure she wouldn’t leave her favourite pearls for Silena over you.

“Daddy found them in a drawer just before summer.” Silena shrugged as if you weren’t sitting across from her, cheeks a blotchy red in your upset. “Besides, they look good on me.” Your hands itched to hit her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, knowing exactly how much she was pissing you off.

“Trust me, they don’t,” You spat, quietly glad when Silena stalked off in a huff, amongst the first to leave the meal. You didn’t know how much longer you could argue with her before starting to cry, which you really didn’t want to do in front of the whole camp. You thought you were safe for the rest of the meal when Drew began speaking instead.

“You could try being nice sometimes, you know, people wouldn’t know what to think.” You rolled your eyes aggressively.

“You forget, I don’t care what people think,” You replied, taking in a spoonful of food.

“Yes you do. Everyone does. You know, with a new look you could have some serious potential.” You ignored her last statement.

“No, I don’t,” You emphasised, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be.” You knew that wouldn’t impact Drew in the slightest, but you hoped it might resonate with some of your younger siblings — encourage them to nurture their internal beauty rather than accept the vain stereotype Aphrodite children were forced into. You pushed yourself out of the bench you were sitting on, needing a break from your insufferable siblings. As you dumped your dishes where they needed to be you saw Luke beginning to follow you and turned to make dead eye contact. Knowing you’d only scream at him (or worse) you gave him a dangerous look, accompanied with an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Not enough for anyone else to know you’d even acknowledged him, but enough to tell Luke to back off. He was smarter than you thought, as he held up his hands in a show of surrender, redirecting his action to innocently collect up his own dishes.

You may not have had any interest in knowing the boy, but you did appreciate that he knew when to back off. Or so you thought.

You were proven not-so-free from Luke Castellan the very next morning. It was the Aphrodite cabin’s day to check all the storerooms, and you’d volunteered to do the one which held all the weapons and armour near the sword fighting arena. You knew none of your siblings would come near if they could help it, mostly against weapons and the violence that surrounded the area, so you’d get a whole morning alone. It was peaceful attending to the chore, and you were allowed to use some of your Aphrodite eye for beauty. Of course, stacks of swords and assorted weapons could only be made so pretty, but you enjoyed organising them into neat rows, making it look as nice as possible — not that you would admit that to Silena or you’d be in her vanity chair receiving an unwelcome makeover in seconds.

You were just admiring your own sword, which you’d taken the time to polish while you were taking care of the others, when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t react, assuming it was just some camper coming for a weapon, until he spoke.

“Nice sword, vintage hilt?” You tensed as Luke’s voice infiltrated your peace.

“Are you following me?” You disregarded his statement, an unimpressed frown present on your lips.

“I was training in the arena and needed to polish my sword. I saw you come in a while ago and not leave, I came to say hi,” He explained, and you raised an eyebrow. You weren’t friends, why would he come for a chat?

“Hi.” You promptly turned back to your task, shoving the cloth into the intricate designs of the hilt.

“Not a big talker, huh?” He persisted.

“Depends on the topic. My sword doesn’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy.” That wasn’t strictly true — the sword was a gift from your mother, with gold twisting around a blood red ruby in the centre of the hilt. After you’d made it clear that you weren’t going to just sit around during your time at camp she gifted you the sword, her way of saying that if you were going to fight, you should at least look good doing it. You’d had several conversations with Clarisse gushing over the intricacy of it, and profusely thanked Aphrodite for the gift in your offerings. You didn’t quite care to share this with Luke, being a relative stranger.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He asked, and you were somewhat taken aback by the earnest tone of his voice.

“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?” You couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that crept into your sentence.

“Most people are.” He gestured subtly towards his scar — gnarled and twisted against his otherwise tanned skin. You put a hand on your hip, resigned to conversation now.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Ok, maybe you’re not afraid of me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.” You were pretty sure Luke was going for smooth or charming, but you thought in this moment he was entirely lame. The wink didn’t help his case.

“Am I that transparent? I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” You put on your best Drew impression, nasally and whiny, before handing him the cloth he needed to polish his own sword and turning to leave. There, quickly approaching the door, was Ethan. Seeing you he put on a disgusting smirk and blocked the doorway, effectively caging you into the storeroom.

“Gods, what is it, asshole day?” You asked, not caring that both boys could very clearly hear you. “Do you mind?” You gestured to his blocking the exit. He simply looked down at you, clearly doing his best to appear sexy (and failing miserably).

“Not at all.” His stupid smirk was going to kill you, and not in the good way. You scoffed, giving him a last chance to get the fuck out of your way. Then, sparing a fraction of a glance back to Luke pretending to mind his own business, you slammed the hilt of your sword into his foot, wishing it was the blade instead. You watched him crumble to the ground, holding his foot with both hands.

“You bitch!” He yelled, voice cracking pathetically in the middle. You forced your smile to stay contained.

“Oops,” You feigned innocence, one hands covering your mouth strategically. “You might need some ambrosia for that…” With that you side-stepped him, eager to leave the situation. If you’d have looked back, you would have seen the gleeful, disbelieving smile on Luke’s face, probably the biggest one he’d worn in a while. Although he didn’t get the date he’d entered for, he was beginning to think you were a little more interesting than you let on.

“Did you just cripple Ethan?” Silena shrieked as you entered your cabin to grab your things. “He’s a model, you can’t do that! Has it escaped your notice that you’re completely psychotic?” You pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly.

“Guess your long walks on the beach are gonna have to wait,” You sighed dramatically, leaving Silena to wallow in her pity alone. It wasn’t like it was really your fault — if Ethan had learned how to respond to words or learn the meaning of ‘move’ he wouldn’t have gotten himself into that situation in the first place.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Luke were having a similarly emotional conversation after Luke had — very reluctantly — helped Ethan over to the infirmary to get his foot checked out.

“When I shell out fifty, I expect results.” Luke sighed, could this boy get any whinier?

“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to hurt him.

“Watching that bitch obliterate my foot doesn’t count as a date. If you don’t get any, I don’t get any, so let’s get some,” Ethan said, running a hand through his ridiculously styled hair. Luke couldn’t believe his nerve. First of all, obliterated? He would be left with a bruise for a few days, if anything. Secondly, this whole things was Ethan’s idea, Luke had never given any indication wanting to ‘get some’, especially not with someone so clearly resisting his advances. Just as Ethan left, giving the Apollo girl treating him a douchebag smile, Luke hardened his resolve.

“I just upped my price,” He said, loving the way Ethan’s eyes widened like a cartoon character. “A hundred bucks a date, in advance.”

“Forget it,” Ethan grumbled, moving to leave again.

“Forget her sister then.” The two boys stared at each other, one significantly more amused than the other. Luke knew he had the upper hand in the dynamic, something he revelled in. Then, after the intimidation tactic clearly wasn’t having any effect, Ethan reached for his wallet, Luke admiring the crisp fifty he was handed.

“You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Castellan.” Luke just watched him go, confident tilt of his head conveying his outlook on the situation.

Luke had taken his usual spot overseeing combat training, but his usual thoughts were long gone. Instead, he was entirely preoccupied with you. He didn’t know how to get you to go out with him when you could barely entertain a conversation, and he twirled his cigarette between his fingers as he pondered.

Percy and Beckendorf saw his internal conflicts, slowly moving closer to him under the guise of a very chaotic fight between the two. Finally Luke gave them attention, knowing Percy’s skills would never have him running all over the place like that. He raised an eyebrow, a sign for them to get on with whatever they were angling at.

“We know what you’re trying to do, for Beauregard,” Percy said, and Luke appeared almost startled.

“And we want to help,” Added Beckendorf helpfully, shying away when Luke’s eyes bore into his.

“And why would you do that?”

“Beckendorf here has a major crush on Silena—”

“Gods, what is it with this girl? Does she sweat nectar?” Beckendorf opened his mouth to protest when Percy spoke over him, knowing it would be more beneficial to let Luke lead.

“Look, I think we can both tell that Charlie’s love is pure, well-intentioned, better than, say, Ethan White?” Luke sighed, catching on.

“I’m in this for the cash, that’s it. Who Ethan wants to bang is of no interest to me.”

“There will be no banging!” Beckendorf cried as Percy pushed him behind. He was no use in a delicate situation like this.

“Ok, Luke, it’s just that we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing. We set it up so Beckendorf can get the girl — Ethan’s just a pawn.” Luke paid closer attention suddenly, intrigued by the chess match he’d been pulled into.

“So you two are gonna help me win her over?”

“We’ll do research, find out what she likes. We can be your guys on the inside.”

“In a strictly non-mission type of way,” Beckendorf added helpfully, nervous of the legends he’d heard about Luke’s failed quest. Luke chose to simply ignore that comment, and Percy filled the silence before he could get angry about it.

“Let’s just start here: the Apollo cabin is throwing a party on Friday night, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“I’ll think about it,” Was all Luke said, a clear signal the conversation was over. Percy and Beckendorf returned to fighting, slightly more regulated now they had gotten what they’d wanted, and Luke brought the cigarette back up to his lips, new thoughts clouding his mind.

Meanwhile, Ethan had found Silena where she was known to hang out by the rocks near the lake. He was hovering next to her, providing snatches of shade as he performed pose after pose, claiming he had a modelling job lined up when he left for the year.

“So which do you like better?” He asked, moving his hands fractionally to the left of his chin.

“The second,” Silena giggled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s more… pensive.”

“Damn,” Ethan kicked the sand softly. “I was going for thoughtful. So, you going to the Apollo party on Friday?”

“Maybe.” She produced her best coy smile, looking up at him from behind her lashes.

“Good, ‘cause you know I’ll only bother if you’re there.” Silena smiled, getting up from her spot on the rock.

“Bye.” Her voice was airy in the way she knew drove boys mad. She walked away leaving Ethan wanting more, her specialty. You scoffed, catching the end of the exchange. You and Silena made momentary eye contact, tension thick between the two of you.

As Beckendorf approached Silena, fishing for more information about you, Ethan had caught you in his sights and wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“You sister is so cute,” His voice infiltrated your bubble in a way that made you want to hit him so desperately. “Doesn’t have your bite though, a feisty woman is so sexy.” You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but it was so close to working.

“Come any closer and I’ll show you just how feisty I can get,” You snapped, braid almost whacking him in the face as you turned to face him. You could have sworn Ethan looked afraid for a second before he covered it with bravado.

“One day you’re gonna realise that all of this hostility is just your sexual repression. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll be waiting with open arms… And legs.” You almost threw up.

“Gods, can’t you just leave me alone, asshole?” You yelled, trying to push past him to get anywhere else.

“C’mon, don’t be a prude,” He whined, and you were really close to taking him to the ground — not in the way he wanted.

“You heard the girl,” A voice called from behind you, and instantly Ethan took a step back. “She wants you to leave her alone.” Luke appeared behind you, a respectful distance away whilst still making his intentions clear. Ethan shrunk back into himself, making a lame excuse as to why he had to leave, hurriedly fleeing the beach. Reluctantly, you turned to face Luke.

“I’m not going out with you just for that,” You said plainly, daring him to try again.

“You think that low of me?” He laughed, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. You forced yourself not to notice. “I don’t have to want something from you to know that Ethan White isn’t worth your time.” It was your turn to be embarrassed at that, feeling slightly narcissistic for assuming that was the purpose of the conversation (it was, but Luke sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin his chances because you were in a mood, justified or otherwise).

“Oh.” You stared at his shoes. “Well, thanks, I guess.” You moved to leave but Luke stopped you, hand not quite touching your arm, unwilling to have it bitten off.

“So you do have a heart!” He joked, signature grin on his face. You wondered why you were seeing so much of it lately when he’d been so dour since his quest.

“Ha! You wish.”

“Don’t try to hide it, Beauregard, you’re warming up to me.”

“I’d sooner fuck Mister D,” You replied, actually taking your leave.

Luke watched you go, chewing his lip between his teeth. There was more to you than you let on, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t say it was any fondness, but he was starting to have a curiosity attaching itself to this scheme, and he knew that going out with you would satisfy it. He should have known having any personal stakes involved — sentimental or otherwise — would get dangerous.

Your own thoughts had barely budged on Luke. He was still a pain in your side and you figured you knew what kind of guy he was — not the type you had any interest in. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were appreciative he’d saved you from Ethan (and the inevitable washing up duty you’d be punished with when you beat him up), so maybe he wasn’t quite as despicable as you’d initially judged him to be. Close, though.

part three

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #luke castellan #pjo series #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson show #percy jackson #percy series #percy pjo #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson tv show

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yuesya · 2 months ago

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A startled shout rips its way out of Imunlaukr’s throat, and he scrambles to escape from the deluge of ice and snow thundering down upon them all.

Decarabian had warned them that it would be dangerous –but not all had heeded their warning. Imunlaukr among them; as the one who’d entreated for the god to come to Sal Vindagnyr to save them, he felt that… he had a duty, to remain and see things through to the end.

And of the Mondstadtian knights who followed Decarabian, there were also those who continued to press onwards at their god’s side. Decarabian had not spoken any further after their warning, allowing them to make their own choice.

Which was a curious thing –ordinarily, a god would simply order those who followed them when they perceived ‘human foolishness,’ but from what he had seen Decarabian had never–

“RUN FASTER!” A sharp voice barks into his ear, causing Imunlaukr to jolt slightly from the sudden volume and close proximity of it. Knight-Captain Gerhard grabs his arm, yanking him along, “The mountain is–!”

With an earth-shaking, thunderous groan, the entire cavern collapses on top of them–

Or it would’ve, if a sudden Anemo-laced wind had not swept them off their feet and blasted them through the crumbling ice and stone, dumping them out on the open snowy mountainside.

Heart pounding heavily in his chest and gasping as the icy wind of the biting air cuts into his face, Imunlaukr immediately looks upwards into the sky.

Decarabian floats in the air, long black hair whipping out wildly behind them as the winds howl around them. They raise their blade, and swing down–

And the Divine Nail splits.

Imunlaukr sees it.

With a thunderous crack that echoes in the land around them, the Divine Nail splits into three separate sections. The backlash of it blows outwards like an invisible pulse of pressure, sending Imunlaukr crashing to the ground amid the sudden blizzard that picks up sharply –most certainly not a coincidence, not with this timing.

The Divine Nail trembles, and the entire mountain shakes with it.

Decarabian throws their arm back in a flinging motion, and with another pulse of powerful Anemo energy, proceeds to scatter the shattered pieces of the Divine Nail.

Hope, joyous and wild, races through Imunlaukr at the sight–

But from the cavernous fissure from where the Divine Nail had pierced down deep into the ground, there is suddenly a fountain of some –some strange, dark energy that rises in its place. The black-violet energy surges up, engulfing Decarabian entirely–

“No–!”

–and a massive pillar of lightning strikes down from the heavens, directly where Decarabian had once been. Directly atop the dark energy, smothering it just as it had swallowed Decarabian in turn.

Even from this distance, despite the wind and snow, Imunlaukr feels as if he’s being scorched. His eyes shut reflexively, for it’s too bright to watch–

And when it clears, when everything is still and silent again… there’s nothing.

Nothing.

…

Imunlaukr scrambles to his feet, and starts running. Half a heartbeat later, the Knight-Captain is racing behind him, both of them running towards the yawning pit once occupied by the Divine Nail, where Decarabian had vanished.

Decarabian– Had they–?

“My Lord!”

Imunlaukr pauses at the edge of the newly-formed ravine splitting the ground; Knight-Captain Gerhard, however, has zero compunctions about leaping in without a thought. The man pulls out his sword and drives it into the side of the pit as he falls, reducing the speed of his rapid descent ever so slightly as he chases after his god.

Imunlaukr grits his teeth, and follows.

It’s a dangerous, bumpy path down. Imunlaukr acquires several new injuries in the process, but perseveres. And at the very bottom of this rocky pit–

Decarabian.

Imunlaukr had thought that he would finally be able to breathe a sigh of relief upon finding the god, but…

But Decarabian is unconscious. There is no trace of that strange dark energy lingering anywhere anymore, but they’re unconscious, and–

There’s something strange happening to them. Their body is shrinking–

No, not just shrinking. It’s like they’re growing younger, the body of a youth becoming that of a young child once more. Their ink-black hair is changing color, shifting into ever-lighter shades of gray and becoming white by the end of it all.

Imunlaukr watches, frozen and stunned by the inexplicable sight in front of him, as Decarabian becomes a child.

The reflection of a god’s image… is also a representation of their power. Typically, a god who has reached maturity and is in the prime of their power wears the form of a youth, or adult. So for Decarabian to change like this, for Sal Vindagnyr–

“… No.” The utterance is soft, quiet. It slips from Imunlaukr’s lips without him even realizing it, not until the quiet whisper of No echoes back at him from the rocky cavern. “I… I never thought…”

“Save your words.” The Knight-Captain’s voice is frigid, severe. Imunlaukr dips his head, understanding the man’s cold rage. “What you just saw here –you must not utter a word of it to anyone. Do you understand?”

… Because Decarabian is a god of battle. The Great Hunter, who protects their people from dangerous monsters, and is the sworn enemy of Andrius, the Lord of Beasts. If it were to become known that Decarabian had been so severely weakened and was in a vulnerable state…!

Why?

Why did you do it? We… the people of Sal Vindagnyr aren’t your worshipers, nor your followers. So why would you… for Sal Vindagnyr… pay such a steep price?

…

“I understand,” Imunlaukr grips his hands into fists. “I and my entire bloodline, for as long as we exist in this world, will serve and protect Lord Decarabian and Mondstadt. This I so swear.”

#writing #zenith of stars au #mondstadt au #end to sal vindagnyr snippets #anyways #the answer to why imunlaukr clan is loyal to decarabian in this au #:3

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comicaurora · 1 year ago

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Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.

That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!

If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?

Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.

Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3

You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-

Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.

In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.

I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.

Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-

Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.

It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.

And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."

Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.

It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.

#asks #aurora #art stuff

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solarmorrigan · 1 year ago

Text

Hands Where I Can See Them, part 7

[Warning for references to sexual situations towards the end, but there is nothing explicit]

“So now do I get to know where we’re going?”

“What part of ‘it’s a surprise’ are you having trouble grasping?”

“The part where we’re driving around in the suburbs in your van on a Saturday night,” Steve shoots a pointed look at Eddie, not without amusement. “I feel like we’re going to end up at some high school party drinking rocket fuel out of Solo cups while you deal out of one of the back bedrooms.”

“Shit, yeah, let’s relive those glory days,” Eddie says drily, then smacks the steering wheel with one palm in emphasis. “No! I am taking you somewhere much better. And we’re almost there, so stop trying to interrogate me. We both know I crack like an egg under pressure.”

Steve holds both his hands up in front of him, brows raised, the very picture of innocence, as though he hasn’t been trying to pump Eddie for information since he picked him up at his house some fifteen minutes ago.

And Eddie really does want it to be a surprise – he thinks he did pretty well, planning this whole thing out. The effort, at first, had simply been placed on coming up with something he’d thought Steve would like—something surprising and romantic and thoughtful—but the further he’d gotten into it, the more he’d found himself enjoying it, too. He’s never actually been on a proper date, much less planned one, and finding all the little touches that would make this one perfect has actually been fun. Eddie’s looking forward to it.

He only hopes his work will pay off.

He navigates the van around one more turn, past a few more unremarkable cookie cutter houses, and pulls to a stop in front of the barrier rail of a dead-end street, entirely ignoring the raised-eyebrow look of intense curiosity that Steve is sending his way.

The thing about Midwestern suburbia is that it sprawls. There are rambling neighborhoods upon rambling neighborhoods, all with kitschy names like “Maple Ridge” and “Eagle Pointe,” and the city planners seem to forget half of what they’ve built as soon as it’s up. Apart from making things confusing to navigate (Oakview Street runs through three different residential areas, for instance, stopping and picking up again at different points throughout town), it’s created isolated pockets of parks and playgrounds, set aside behind back streets and largely unknown to anyone more than a block away – unless they happen to be restless explorers, like Eddie.

“So… are we gonna hang out here tonight?” Steve asks, glancing around at the neighborhood falling into the darkness of the rapidly encroaching dusk.

“Yes, Steve, we’re gonna have a picnic in my van on the back end of Washington Drive,” Eddie drawls.

“You’re the one who wouldn’t tell me where we were going.” Steve shrugs, smirking over at Eddie. “I figured maybe you were embarrassed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes his door open. “C’mon, Harrington, we’re almost there.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Steve says, though he obediently gets out of the van and rounds to the back, where Eddie is digging for his supplies.

“Well, now it’s an even smaller almost,” Eddie says.

He pulls his backpack from the back of the van, followed by an insulated bag he’d bummed off of Oliver and the tiny cooler that Wayne takes with him when he goes fishing, draping it all over himself like an awkward sort of packmule and waving Steve off when he tries—twice—to reach for one of the bags to help.

“Okay, fine,” Steve finally says, shaking his head. “Lead the way, Mr. Park Ranger.”

“Thank you,” Eddie sniffs, gesturing for Steve to follow him off the street and onto a narrow dirt path that cuts through the thin strip of woods in front of them.

It’s barely a minute’s walk before the path spits them out into a tiny clearing housing a minuscule park. Eddie disregards the neglected jungle gym and the decrepit grill and zeroes in on the reason he’d brought them out here: the gazebo.

“So I’m gonna need just a little more faith from you,” he tells Steve, “and you need to turn around for about a minute.”

The expression on Steve’s face is a familiar one, recognizable even in the fading light as “deciding whether or not to make the bitchy comment,” but finally he simply shrugs and turns around.

“Sure, why not,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eddie shakes his head, biting down on a smile as he bounds up the two steps into the little gazebo and sets his load down. The thing is in surprisingly good condition, all told; the structure is solid, the picnic table inside is relatively clean, and there is a minimal number of dicks and swearwords graffitied around the inside (barely noticeable in the dark, even!). Glancing back to make sure Steve is still facing away, Eddie makes quick work of unpacking his bags.

The candles come out first, a whole slew of the inexpensive white ones that come in jars, picked up from the dollar store, and he dots them around the gazebo railings and across the picnic table, lighting them with the cigarette lighter from his pocket until the space is warm and glowing. The insulated bag is next, providing two foil-wrapped plates of spaghetti that is—thank you, Oliver—still warm. Last is the cooler, which provides two beers. He’s just pulling napkins and forks from his backpack when he hears Steve calling out from where he’s left him standing.

“I’m pretty sure it’s been more than a minute.”

“You’re so impatient,” Eddie shoots back, taking the steps at a leap and jogging back across the grass to Steve. “But I’m done, anyway, so you can turn around.”

Steve does so, his focus going first to Eddie, before his attention is caught by the glow of the gazebo behind him. Eddie can see his eyes go wide in the candlelight, startled first, and then pleased, accompanied by a slow-growing smile.

“Eddie, this is…” he leaves off with a tiny laugh, like he doesn’t quite have a word for it, but whatever he thinks it is, it’s good.

Eddie shrugs. “I know we can’t exactly go out to a restaurant and have a real date, but I promised you candlelight,” he says. “I’m afraid the violinist was booked, though.”

Shaking his head, Steve lets out another little laugh, and then takes a step towards the gazebo and glances back at Eddie.

“C’mon, yeah, let’s eat. Can’t have everything getting cold!” Eddie gestures Steve up the steps and waves his arm grandly towards one of the plates. “I’d pull your chair out for you, but it appears to be attached to the table.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Steve says, swinging one leg over the bench, then the other, and settling himself down. He waits for Eddie to follow suit before picking up his fork and then – just staring down at his plate for a moment. “Is this…” he starts uncertainly.

“It’s the spaghetti sauce you showed me how to make,” Eddie fills in. “Since you were convinced I’d perish trying to subsist on frozen pizza if you weren’t there to force meals on me.”

Eddie hadn’t done much cooking prior to befriending Steve; he could boil water and scramble an egg, but his ability and interest had mostly ended there. Then Steve had come along, earnestly (and transparently) bringing “leftovers” to the trailer to share with Eddie and Wayne, before he progressively took over their kitchen. Absolutely no one had had any complaints about this arrangement, though Steve had insisted on teaching Eddie how to make a few basic staples for himself – among which had been spaghetti sauce.

For a long moment, Steve says nothing, continuing to stare at his plate, brows furrowed.

“…and I haven’t,” Eddie says, trying to break the silence. “Perished, that is. In your absence. Obviously. Not that– not that I think you were really worrying about that, I just mean I’ve been making some of the stuff you showed me. Is all.”

“I’m just… kind of surprised you remembered, I guess,” Steve says, glancing up at Eddie, expression unreadable in the flickering light around them. “I wasn’t sure if you were actually interested or if you were just humoring me, when I showed you all that stuff.”

“I still have all the recipes you have me,” Eddie says – and he does: a small stack of notecards that Steve had stolen from Robin and covered in his surprisingly neat handwriting, detailing things like when to add butter to this and how much garlic to add to that, which has a permanent home in a drawer in Eddie’s kitchen.

“Oh,” Steve says, and nothing more.

“But don’t leave me in suspense, tell me how I did,” Eddie insists, attempting to push past the awkwardness he’d brought upon them while simultaneously shoving his mouth full of pasta in order to keep from pulling out any new touchy topics.

Steve twirls up a forkful of spaghetti and brings it to his mouth, spending a long moment chewing thoughtfully.

“Well?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods and swallows. “I mean, I’ve had better,” he says with a shrug, and Eddie experiences a moment of genuine distress before he spots the smirk tugging at Steve’s lips.

Eddie kicks at him under the table and Steve laughs, and Eddie can’t help but join him.

“Don’t be shy, baby, tell me how you really feel,” Eddie drawls, and Steve snickers again.

“Trust me, I will,” he says. But then: “It’s good, Eddie. You did good.”

Knocked off balance by the casual sincerity, Eddie goes quiet, and they eat for a few minutes in silence.

“So,” Eddie finally says, “I’m sure this is a great shock to you, but I’ve never actually done this before.”

Steve glances up at him. “Eaten spaghetti in a gazebo?” he asks, so dry that even Eddie’s not quite sure if he’s being sarcastic.

“The dating thing,” Eddie clarifies, instead of trying to figure it out. “What exactly are you supposed to do on a first date?”

Something about Steve’s expression goes off again – that same, weird, false look he’d had the other day that Eddie hadn’t been able to ferret out the source of. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when Steve shrugs, taking a quick pull from his beer.

“I guess it’s usually the getting-to-know-you stuff. Favorite movie, what kind of music you listen to, hobbies – that sort of thing,” he says.

“Huh.” Eddie screws his mouth to the side, thinking it over. “Seems… kinda boring. But, if you insist!” He leans forward on the table, resting his chin in his hands and batting his eyelashes at Steve. “So, tell me about yourself, handsome.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not like that’s what you have to do. I’m pretty sure dates are just supposed to be… you know, being with someone you like. Putting aside time just to do something with them,” he says. “Doesn’t matter what it is, you have a good time because you’re doing it together.”

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly, his humor fading beneath a bright flare of fondness. “That– that sounds better, yeah.”

“I think so, too,” Steve says, smiling across the table at Eddie.

“Well, then.” Eddie takes a chance and slowly slides his hand forwards until it’s resting over Steve’s on top of the table, inwardly doing a little dance when Steve remains relaxed beneath his touch. “Under those parameters, do you think we’re having a successful first date?”

And that’s when Steve pulls back, drawing his hand from beneath Eddie’s and averting his gaze, shrugging shoulders that have gone tense. “Sure, yeah.” He glances back up and offers a smile that’s trying very hard to be sincere but is underscored by something Eddie still can’t put his finger on. “Seriously, this is really nice, Eddie.”

“What am I saying?” Eddie asks.

“What?” Steve’s brows draw together in confusion.

“I keep saying something that’s upsetting you and I can’t– like, I can’t figure out what it is,” Eddie admits. “But I don’t want to keep doing it.”

“I’m not upset,” Steve says, bristling slightly under the skeptical look Eddie sends him. “I’m not. I’m– it’s stupid, alright? I’m fine.”

“It’s not stupid,” Eddie says, and Steve scoffs.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Well then tell me.”

Frowning, Steve looks back down at his plate, pushing the last few strands of spaghetti around with his fork. “It’s – seriously, it’s dumb. Like, I know that, alright? It’s just that you keep calling this our first date and I guess… I thought of something else as our first date. That’s all.”

Oh, fuck.

Eddie is an idiot. Fuck.

Of course Steve thinks of something else as their first date. He’d thought they were dating, so of course he’d thought of their outings as dates. Dinners, the movies, aimless walks around town – time set aside to be with someone you like, to just do something together. And here Eddie is again, shoving how little he’d thought of those times in Steve’s face.

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and Steve shakes his head.

“It’s fine, I told you, I know it’s ridiculous–”

“It’s not.”

“–and I don’t have to get all hung up over it. It wasn’t even a date if we didn’t both think of it that way, right? So we can just look at this as– like, take two.”

Eddie purses his lips. “Even if we didn’t both think of it as a date, it was important to you.”

Steve shrugs and then, steady and deliberate, puts his hand over Eddie’s, curling his fingers around Eddie’s palm. “Well, tonight can be important to both of us,” he says, offering Eddie a small smile. “And I don’t want to ruin it. I really am having a good time.”

The only reason Eddie can imagine that he would be even remotely this lucky is if the universe is trying to make up for the debacle that was last spring (but then again, seen in the reverse, he can’t imagine why the universe would be inflicting him on Steve; he’ll have to keep thinking on that one). And on the one hand, he’s determined not to waste this opportunity – neither Steve’s good will nor his second chance. But on the other hand–

He can’t not ask.

Shifting his hand a little so he can wrap his fingers around Steve’s, Eddie takes a breath and bites the bullet. “Okay, but what… were you thinking of as our first date?”

For a long minute, Steve says nothing, and Eddie tries not to panic, tries not to assume that he’s just ruined everything by admitting he doesn’t even know which instance Steve is talking about, and mostly fails. But then Steve takes a breath and shakes his head.

“It’s… kinda stu–”

“Don’t say it,” Eddie cuts in sharply, warning, before he can stop himself. “I’m sure it’s not. Tell me about it.”

Steve shoots Eddie a chagrined kind of smile before turning his eyes to the surface of the table. “It was at the diner,” he says, and Eddie only just holds himself back from asking which time, because they’ve gone to the tiny diner off the side of the road near Forest Hills together more times than he can count; it’s within walking distance of Eddie’s place, and it tends to be their go-to when they want to go out but have no particular destination in mind. “It was that first night. The first time we kissed.”

It hits Eddie like a jab to the sternum that Steve chooses to phrase it that way: the first time they kissed. Because if Eddie remembers one thing for certain, it’s that the first night they kissed had also been the first night they’d had sex – and yet it’s the kiss that Steve focuses on. It’s the kiss that had been important to him.

“I guess there wasn’t anything that special about that night. Nothing different. We just had fun,” Steve says quietly. “Pretty sure we drove everyone else crazy fighting over the jukebox, especially since most of the songs in there suck, anyway, and you were telling me about what happened during your last game and you tried to draw it on a napkin with ketchup and a toothpick, which… did not turn out well, and you kept stealing fries off my plate–”

“Because you kept dipping them in your milkshake and I was telling you that it was gross!” Eddie remembers.

“Of course, that part stands out to you,” Steve grouses, though there’s a bit of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Hey, you made a believer out of me. Fries and vanilla shake, I have to admit it’s good,” Eddie says, and Steve’s smile grows a little more.

“But, yeah, like I said, it wasn’t… special, I guess, I just remember thinking that I wanted to do that with you all the time. I wanted to do everything with you all the time, whatever it was,” Steve says. “And then when we were back in your room, sitting on your bed, you were looking at me like– I thought you wanted to–”

“I did,” Eddie says quickly. “I wanted to kiss you. I wanted you to kiss me. I don’t know, I was – kinda turned around about it, but I knew I was glad that you did it first, because I was too chickenshit to ever do it myself.”

Eddie remembers this part clearly; something had seemed different about Steve when they’d gotten back from the diner. There had been something softer and lighter about him that had made Eddie want to reach out and touch – an urge he wasn’t unfamiliar with. He is, after all, queer as hell, and—though he feels like an ass for phrasing it this way, now—Steve is really hot. Of course he’d had thoughts about Steve before; he just tended to ignore them, because they were friends, and the thought that anything more could happen between them seemed outlandish.

But then Steve had leaned in and kissed him.

The first one had been close-mouthed and soft, almost tentative, sweet, but ensuing kisses had been deeper, more wanton, and before Eddie had quite registered the shift, Steve was in his lap and his tongue was practically down Steve’s throat and he’d thought – well, maybe there could be a little more between them. Maybe things didn’t have to change all that much.

He'd rolled with it, and then he’d rolled them over, and then he’d helped Steve get rid of his shirt and he’d ditched his own, and then he’d begun the process of learning how to wring as many sweet, pleasured noises as possible out of Steve.

Now, back at the picnic table in the fluttering light of nearly a dozen cheap candles, Steve is looking at Eddie oddly, like he’s not quite sure what to make of him.

“Well… since I had kind of been looking at that night as when we, uh– got together, I just – yeah, made sense to me. First date.” Steve shrugs.

A frown pulls across Eddie’s face, and he fights to keep it at bay, so he doesn’t give Steve the wrong impression – he’s not upset with Steve, he’s just upset. He’s upset that he can’t look at that night the same way Steve had – that he hadn’t experienced it the same way. He wishes he had; that he’d let himself consider what it might be like not if he and Steve could be friends and have sex, but if he and Steve could be more than that.

He squeezes Steve’s fingers, still wrapped in his own, and catches Steve’s eye when he looks up. “You know… I mean, I know that not all of the time we spent together has the same significance for me that it did for you, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t important to me,” Eddie says, and maybe it’s all he can say for himself, but at least it’s true. “I love spending time with you. Even when I’m complaining, I’m doing it with joy.”

Steve cocks an eyebrow at him. “With joy?”

“Yep. Entirely joyful complaining,” Eddie says seriously.

“Well, you do like complaining.” Steve smirks.

“I sure the fuck do. It’s what makes us such a good pair,” Eddie replies, and Steve laughs.

They talk for a while longer after that, lighter and easier than before, but eventually it gets too chilly to reasonably keep sitting around. They’d been blessed with unusually mild weather that night, but late October is still late October, and the temperature has dropped since the sun’s gone down.

They work together to blow out all the candles before they end up dropping them in a nearby garbage can once they realize that the wax is still liquid and Eddie can’t put them back in his bag (“Okay, I thought of almost everything,” Eddie insists as he produces a flashlight to light their way back to the van). Eddie turns up the heat before pulling back out into the road, and they take the drive back to Steve’s house in contented silence.

Eddie parks and turns the van off once they’re in the driveway, and Steve watches with curiosity as Eddie gets out with him, but says nothing as they walk up to the front door together.

“Well,” Eddie says once they reach the porch, “I had a great time tonight. D’you think I can see you again?”

Steve blinks at him, doing almost a doubletake as he looks from Eddie to his door and then back again.

“Do you– You don’t want to come in?” Steve asks, a little bewildered.

“Oh, no, I very much do,” Eddie assures him. “But this is take two, right? And I said I was gonna do it right, and that means no sex until the third date. At least I’m pretty sure that’s the rule.”

Steve laughs, but quickly quiets when all Eddie does is smile at him. “You’re serious,” he says, a bit flat with disbelief.

“Completely.” Eddie nods. “I’m romancing you, remember?”

There’s another moment of quiet stillness from Steve before a slow, delighted grin begins to grow on his face. “Well, in that case…” he says, “I had a great time, too.” He leans in and pecks a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips, short and almost shy. “Call me.”

And then he’s gone, the front door closing behind him before Eddie can even register what’s happened.

Eddie barely even remembers getting back into the van, but if he had to guess, he’d say he probably floated there.

It should be ridiculous – he’s had Steve’s mouth on pretty much every part of him, he’s had Steve on top of him and underneath him and crying out his name and begging him for more, he’s had Steve naked and sated and curled around him, and yet it’s one short kiss that nearly short-circuits him.

It should be ridiculous, but Eddie thinks it might actually be the best thing in the world.

Part 8

Tag List (Currently full! Drop me a line if you want off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #consistent chapter length? never heard of her #anyway have some date fluff. we've got... a little more stuff coming up #solar wrote

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royal-chandler · 2 months ago

Text

inspired by TZP's appearance at the premiere of Queer 💫

grammar and i really couldn't mesh well today, i'm sorry.

The car slows down and the bounce of Alex’s knee speeds up in the backseat. It’s stilled when Henry’s hand folds over it, easily stealing Alex’s attention from the reel of landmarks that lead to the DGA Theater Complex. Henry’s smile is a private and small curve that crowds out everything else.

Henry comments, “You look like you’re about to leap out of your skin, darling. We can still wait, if you’d like. There’s no pressure.”

Drifting a hand down, Alex threads his fingers through Henry’s and admires the warm and perfect fit of them. “I’m not having a record-scratch moment. And we’re not postponing or calling this off. Or, fuck even worse, appearing as friends to have the internet continually mislabel us as a bromance. It’s not nerves or cold feet, it’s anticipation.”

“An incredibly vibrant anticipation.”

“And your subdued energy, I should take that as?”

“Barely restrained excitement.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Of course,” Henry says with a mock-serious nod that he might as well have patented, "I'm going to be sharing the same space as Luca Guadagnino. As a massive fan, that thrills me to no end.”

Alex laughs out of surprise and plays along, leaning in. “Wow, he rates higher than Daniel Craig?”

“Alex, honestly. You think that I haven’t already met the most recent iteration of James Bond? Me, a son of Arthur Fox? We’re well acquainted, love. He’s been at my dinner table quite often,” Henry divulges.

“Huh.” Alex's curiosity is genuine now. Clearing his throat in an attempt to sidestep an embarrassing needy tone, his question still comes out clumsy, words tripping over gravel, “No, uh, farther than the dining room? Uh, just dinner.”

“He’s rather happy with his wife and I’ve never been...courted as a supernumerary,” Henry says thoughtfully. And then with his free hand, he’s carding Alex’s hair, pulling on an end in a way that makes Alex’s toes curl in his shoes. Showing off his cheekbones, Henry grins wide when Alex hisses between his teeth. He's generous with his touch, his fingers slipping down to Alex’s mouth and skipping over its opened seam, pausing at the pout of his bottom lip. Henry’s voice drops in volume as he adds with a sweet kiss, “Plus, he’s not my type whatsoever. Far removed from it and no one fills out a tux better than you. Even James Bond. So, there’s zero reason to be jealous.”

“What? Who’s jealous? I am not jealous.”

“I’d hope not. Soon enough, the whole world will know that I’m yours.”

To the left of his sternum, Alex's heart gallops. The same wild pick-up from weeks before when he’d first held the invite to the premiere, the title of the film brash and defiant across the top. Unapologetically Queer. Over the sloping script encouraging a plus-one, Alex had rubbed his thumb back and forth, like he could wear a patch into the parchment. He hadn’t been able to let it go until he had Henry on the phone, tears swelling and unsteady as the black and white of the invite blurred and the choice became clear.

“And that Henry fucking Fox calls me his boyfriend. Kind of insane,” Alex remarks, remembering the Melbourne Climate Conference and literally running into the Prince of England. Getting to his feet with a two-inch advantage and still feeling like he didn’t measure up and never would, gutted by Henry’s refusal to take his hand. Later, in a hospital closet, he’d find out that Henry had been hollow that day as well, pitted by fresh grief.

“Good insane?” Henry asks.

“Always. I like the kind of crazy you drive me to,” Alex admits and sees happiness light in Henry’s forest eyes. He sees forever. Alex wants it so badly, he has to dip his gaze lower before he loses himself there completely. He loiters at the necklace that hangs from Henry’s neck, its silver pendant resting against the notch of his collarbone like an ornament. A gift from Alex that the public has been speculating the origins of since it first appeared on a beach trip Henry had taken with Bea and Pez—noteworthy for the simple fact that the Prince never wore jewelry aside from his signet ring. “I mean, let’s get started on this fucking outfit, baby.”

“Alex, enough.”

“You’re in a cardigan that’s barely holding on! What am I supposed to do with that? I’m merely a man.”

Paired with dark grey pants, the cardigan is powder blue and delicately knitted with a lace pattern, see-through over a black tank and even softer than it looks. It’s a formal contrast to Alex’s dark denim jeans and wool workwear jacket but together, the intent behind the ensembles will be undeniable—that, like any other couple, they’re meant to match.

Fondly, Alex shakes his head. “When the big headline reads ‘Prince Henry, finally saved from drowning as First Son ACD yanks him out of oversized double-breasted suits’, I’ll get my gratification. You’ll see.”

“They are not oversized,” Henry argues, a blush across his face.

Alex tells him, “If you didn’t bare your chest every once in a while, your shoulders would be your best kept secret. Forget about me.”

“Not ever,” Henry answers.

As if cued, the car rolls to a stop and a silhouette appears outside the window. They’ve got thirty seconds and, in a deliberate callback to the moment he realized saying anything less than love to Henry felt like lying and asked him out on this date, Alex wonders, “Are you ready?”

“So fucking impatient,” Henry says with a laugh and Alex is head over heels for all of him.

When the door is opened, Alex doesn’t let go of Henry’s hand. He carefully waits for Henry to climb out behind him and then places his proud smile to the skin of Henry’s cheek—what he had wanted and wished to do at the charity polo match in London and every other public appearance that followed after.

Ahead of them is a long, loud line of press and chaotic bursts of blinding lights. A shit ton of questions and a sprawling red carpet that they won’t be able to walk back.

They move forward with purpose, together every step of the way.

i'd like to kindly thank @caressthosecheekbones for telling me that Henry should wear Nick's iconic cardigan 💛

and @mylucayathoughts , here you go! 🤍

#firstprince #rwrb #alex x henry #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #firstprince fic #rwrb fanfiction #my fic

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wandussyfantasy · 1 year ago

Text

First Date

Summary: You ask Wanda on a real date this time. A part 2 of Movie Night. And 1/3 requests from @lesbianpizza!! Thank you again for the requests!!

Request: Wanda and Y/n go on a date to a restaurant but they’re so insatiable (and at this point I think it’s confirmed that Wanda is that girl) that R starts fingering her under the table and she’s rubbing them through their pants. They end up having to leave in the middle of their meal to get their hands on each other properly

Pairings: Wanda x NB!AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,290

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!wanda, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, masturbation, public touching, fantasies, teasing, and creampie.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, uh,” you clear your throat nervously, “hey, Wanda.” You call her attention. You are hosting your friends over for an impromptu pool party since your parents went out of town for the weekend. You haven’t been alone with Wanda in the past couple of weeks since you took her virginity. She told you the morning after that you have to make the next move. As an overthinker, you weren’t sure what that next move should be. Plus it didn't help that this is the first time you’ve been available in two weeks. There was an important project at work and your father was over working everyone to get it done in time for the expo this weekend.

The only contact you had with Wanda was a text here and there and whatever memes and funny videos she would send you the links to. Beyond that, you haven’t had a chance to make a move or talk about what you see in the near future for your relationship. You thought about inviting only her over and then asking her out in person. Only problem was that every time you typed out the message you thought of a reason not to send it. Then you thought about going over to her house with flowers and chocolates and asking her out that way. But that didn’t feel right either.

While you were working yourself up to text her, you got a new notification of another link from her. It was one of those trends of friends jumping into a pool to a song and you laughed and asked if she wanted to come over for a swim. Not realizing it was the group chat and everyone was more than happy to come over. You didn’t know how to tell them not to, so you let it be and figured this would be the best way to ask her.

Unfortunately that left zero time for the two of you to be alone. Any chance you got to talk to her was ruined by a number of friends. Especially her twin brother, Pietro. The two of you have been friends a little longer than you and Wanda but not as close. He is protective of her and he’s aware of her crush on you. He’s also aware of your rocky dating history and he’d rather not have his sister on that long list of ex lovers. So when he catches the two of you standing a little too close for his liking, he takes the opportunity to intervene.

You find it weird that he makes his way into every conversation you fail to start but you don't think much about it. You're just grateful to be given more time to find the words to ask Wanda out. You hate how hard this task has been so far. You and Wanda used to hang out and talk about anything and everything without any awkwardness. But this added pressure to treat her as special as she deserves to be and not really knowing how to do that has become draining.

Then the perfect opportunity arises when the two of you are putting together lunch for everyone. This time the group of friends are distracted with an intense game of pool volleyball. Wanda hums in acknowledgement as she chops vegetables.“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” You finally ask.

“Sure,” she answers simply as she keeps her focus on the vegetables, “there's this movie I've been dying to show you while you've been busy. I know, I know, it kind of goes against the whole-”

“Wanda,” you interrupt her. “That's not what I meant. I um,” you bite your lip as you consider your next words carefully. You move from the kitchen island where you were preparing the meat for the burgers and make your way over to the counter where she is. “I meant like you and me, we get dressed up and go to a nice restaurant and share a meal…” you stop in front of her and lean on the counter. “I pick you up instead of us meeting there. We talk, we flirt, maybe I even get to kiss you at the end of the night.” You describe what you want to do with her instead of simply stating the simple word of what it is.

Wanda drops the knife as she tries to contain her excitement. She wants to jump up and down and scream her answer over and over but the intense look you are giving her reminds her of the night the two of you slept together and she knows now is not the time for that. “Ah so you're asking me out on a date?” She asks to clarify as butterflies flutter around in her stomach.

“Yes, I'm asking you on a proper date,” you confirm as you play with a strand of her wet hair.

“Okay,” she says in a sweet tone. “My answer is still yes. But um, Y/n, we've already slept together. You can do more than end the night with a kiss,” she leans against your body and whispers in your ear. “I have been craving your cock for two weeks.”

You gulp as you clench your hand into a fist and imagine the worst thing you can so you don't get an erection. “Well then um,” you clear your throat and step back as you get flustered. There are too many people here waiting for food. “I will um… we'll see where the night takes us.” You feel the twitching in your dick as it remembers being inside of Wanda without any barriers and it gets excited at the idea of it happening again. “I um, I need to use the restroom. Uh have Peter start the grill will you? Thanks.”

Wanda laughs to herself with a shake of her head as you slip out of the kitchen. You make your way to the restroom in your bedroom as your boner stands at attention. “Shit!” As much as you try, your thoughts aren't enough to get rid of it. So you grab the old pornographic magazine you kept hidden in the bathroom and lube up your hand with the sensation lube you keep to make yourself sensitive. Times like these didn't matter how long you lasted, you just needed to get rid of the thing.

You start stroking your cock to the naked image of some random woman but it does nothing for you. So you slam the magazine shut and toss it in the trash bin. This was no use to you now. You've been with the girl or your dreams and it was better than anything you could have ever imagined. You shut your eyes as you recall that night. The surprise hand job and the surprise blow job that followed. Oh how good her mouth felt on your cock. You pump your hand harder as you remember kissing her for the first time and having your tongue inside of her. Oh the way she tastes. You're craving it now. You remember trying to keep her quiet and there was an element of the secrecy that brought you closer to the edge.

You remember how tight she felt as you entered her for the first time and you squeeze your cock just enough to mimic the feeling but there was no fooling your body. This is your hand and not Wanda's pussy. Then a new image pops in your hand. A fantasy that you wish to see happen.

Wanda knocks on the bathroom door to startle you before she walks in. She giggles as you hold your chest with your cock hanging out of your swim shorts. “You look like you need a hand with that.” She says as she gets on her knees. She replaced your hand with her soft delicate hands. That alone brings you closer. She strokes your cock for a moment before she takes you in her mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of her lips sucking on your cock.

“Wanda, I'm close,” you gasp out as she continues to suck on you.

Wanda pulls off and looks at you with her big green eyes that have darkened with desire. “Good, I want to taste your cum.” She says and puts her mouth on you again.

As you cum in the fantasy, you cum inside of your toilet in real life. “Oh fuck,” you say as you catch your breath. “I am in trouble,” you mutter to yourself as you clean up. You return to your friends and stay away from Wanda as much as possible. She made it impossible to stay soft in her light orange two piece bathing suit.

Later that evening, you're in a nice suite and tie. Your hair is still a little damp from your shower. A very cold shower at that. Not that your dick minded. On the bright side, after cumming three times already today, you're hoping you'll last longer for Wanda. That is, if things go that far tonight. As you get out of the car to make your way up to the front steps, Wanda comes running out of her house in an oversized sweatshirt, that you're pretty sure is yours, and sweatpants with an overnight bag. “Oh, I was just coming up to-”

“No need, my parents think you're giving me a ride to Carol’s slumber party,” Wanda pushes you back into your car and climbs in, throwing her stuff in the back seat. “Drive carefully, I couldn't leave the house with makeup on.” Wanda pulls her makeup bag out of her middle pocket.

“You wear makeup?” You ask as you pull out of the driveway.

“Shut up, it’s a special occasion,” she says while she applies the makeup. As you drive to the restaurant, you warn her when there's a bump or when you're about to make a turn.

As you get closer to the destination you ask, “Do you need me to pull over anywhere so that you can change? I mean you look hot as you are but I don't think the restaurant will let you in.”

Wanda sits back in her seat with a satisfied smile at the work she did. “Don’t worry, I have my dress on underneath.”

“No way, you're wearing a dress too?” You ask with wide eyes. “Wow, you really like me.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, but when you park the car and look at her she softens and smiles. “Yeah, I do,” she leans over the console and kisses your cheek. Leaving a stamp from her big red lips. She giggles as she grabs one of her makeup wipes to clean it off. “But don't get used to all of this getting dressed up business. Especially not when all I want is for you to take it all off anyway.”

You are a little intimidated by how direct Wanda is. The shy girl you once knew is no longer in the body of this confident woman. You're impressed by her change but a little embarrassed that you didn't notice it sooner. You knew Wanda to be the one who takes it slow. She and Vision dated for years and yet you're the one who took her virginity. Not him.

She was someone who loves romcoms and expects the roses and chocolates and the grand gestures and the romantic dates. At least, you thought she was. With how she was acting tonight, you wonder how she stayed a virgin so long.

“Let’s get inside before I can't control myself,” you say. “Wouldn’t want to put your hard work to waste.” You get out of the car before she can say something to convince you otherwise. You go to open her door and while you walk, she is taking off the lounge wear so that when she steps out she can surprise you.

Wanda steps out slowly, teasing you with the sight of her bare leg first. You're speechless when she reveals her entire look for the evening. Her hair falls nicely with her dark loose waves with red lips and light makeup that leaves her still looking natural. The dress is red and stops just below her knees with a small slit at her thigh, it's not a tight dress but it still clings to the right places giving her body a great shape. And to complete the look she is wearing black heels. “Close your mouth, you'll catch flies,” she pats you on the cheek and you shut your mouth, unaware of when it dropped open in the first place.

“You always look good, but wow,” you compliment as you follow her through the parking lot. Wanda is strutting her way to the building and you're looking like a drooling puppy dog behind her.

As the two of you are looking through the menu to order, things heat up as the two of you sit close together in the dimly lit booth. “I think I might order something light. I'm not sure I want to stuff myself with food tonight,” she says conversationally as she drops the menu on the table. Wanda places her hand on your thigh, “It's always best to save room for dessert.”

You swallow as your entire body reacts to her touch. “Yeah, I'm not in the mood for a lot of food either.” You lean in close and whisper, “I’ve got a craving for something off the menu.” You slip your fingers under her dress to caress her bare thigh. Wanda has been very clear about what she is okay with this evening and it relieves you from feeling like you have to try so hard.

By the time the waiter leaves with your orders, your cock is swelling up with arousal from Wanda rubbing you through your pants and your fingers are teasing her through her underwear. “I've been practicing what you showed me last time and,” she gasps as you move her panties to the side.“Ooh, the only thing that gets me off is the thought of being with you again.”

You hum as you move to kiss her neck but don't put your lips on her. Instead you whisper, “Oh yeah? Do you have any fantasies that you want to share with me?”

Wanda smiles, “It’s been weeks,” she bites her lip as you dip your fingers in her, “I have many.” She tries to pull your zipper down but you stop her by removing your fingers.

“Uh-uh uh. Not here,” you tell her. “Through the pants is just fine. And a lot less illegal,” you joke. You kiss her cute pouting lips and she breaks into a smile. It's so natural between the two of you.

An attractive waitress stops by to deliver the drinks the two of you ordered. You grin as you thank her and Wanda clenches her jaws to hide her jealousy until you slip your fingers back inside of her pussy. Your way of letting her know that she holds your full attention. You continue to pump your fingers in her at a steady pace. Her slippery walls constrict around your fingers every so often. The two of you try to present as normal and have a casual conversation when your meals arrive.

“Can I ask you something?” You press on her clitoris causing her to gasp out a yes for an answer. “Why are you lying to your parents about where you are tonight? They know me, they know we're friends.”

Wanda wiggles on your fingers as you continue to fuck her. “I don't want the pressure on us. Whatever we're doing. They'll ruin it. My dad approves of you and my mom has been… oooh… she's been telling me to ask you out before I even realized how I f-feel about you… oh that's good.” She stumbles on her words as you continue to pleasure her with your fingers.

“Ah, so I'm guessing you haven't told the girls about what happened last time either?”

Wanda shakes her head, “No, no, I want it to be just us until… oh my god… until we're ready. They think you… ugh… turned me down and said we're better off friends.”

You nod as you understand her reasoning. Romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours. “Okay, I can agree to that. Especially since I don't want your brother to kill me and-”

Wanda squeezes your bicep, “Baby, please can we not talk about my family when you're… ohh.. doing that to me.”

“Right, and giving me a handjob in front of my family is acceptable,” you retort as you rub her clitoris again.

“Oh please, you thought it was hot,” she shoots back as she squeezes your cock, you almost let out a groan.

“Fair enough,” you take a few big bites of your food and nudge Wanda to start eating. She asks you what's up and you pull your fingers out of her. “I’m trying to at least buy you a meal before we go back to my house. So please, eat something or else I'll feel bad for keeping you up all night.”

Wanda perks up at the mention, “All night huh? You could barely last a few minutes the first time.”

You smirk as you lean in close and whisper, “I already came three times today thinking about you.” You lean back and speak in a normal tone. “I hadn't done that in a while before you surprised me. Plus I'd never done that without protection, the moment you decided to do that it was over for me.”

Wanda tilts her head, “At least I was your first at something.”

You hum and point to her plate with your fork. “Eat.”

“Okay, okay, I'm eating,” Wanda takes a few bites but the food isn't appetizing. No. She is craving something only you can give her. She watches you as you eat. Something that a few years ago disturbed her because you used to chew with your mouth open to annoy her. This time, you're clean with no desire to annoy her, only the desire to get out of this restaurant and fill her with something other than food.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” you say as you drop your utensil and look at her. Wanda smiles and says that she isn't either. You flag down the waiter to pay for the check and leave. Back in the car, Wanda is quick to grab your bulge and try to pull your zipper down. “Can I drive us back to my house first?” You ask in a light laugh.

“Alright,” she sighs, removing her hand from your pants. When you get to the house, the two of you waste no time running to your bedroom. Thankfully you can be as loud as you want with your parents away. You shut and lock the bedroom door and bring Wanda into a passionate kiss. Staining your lips with her red lipstick. You don't mind one bit. “Finally,” she breathes out as she starts to pull on your clothes.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you go in for another kiss and she catches your face with her hands, holding you close. You grab her by the waist and guide her to the bed. You sit on the side of it with her still standing. “I was trying to be everything you wished for,” you say as you continue to kiss her red lips.

Wanda puts her hands on your chest to stop you and breaks the kiss. “Y/n,” her light laugh causes your heart to flutter along with the bright way she says your name. “You don't have to try, just be you. That's enough for me.” She gives you a light kiss on your nose and you smile up at her. Your heart tightens at her words. You had no idea that you needed to hear them but it means the world that she said them.

“I… gosh I don't know what to say to that,” you admit as you're at a loss for words.

“Don’t say anything, just,” Wanda climbs on your lap to straddle you. “Show me how you feel.”

“Okay,” you nod and start to kiss her again. You start with her lips then you move to her neck, down to her collar bone, finally you arrive at her chest. Instead of reaching behind her to unzip the dress, you lower the strap on her shoulder and place a few kisses there. You raise your eyebrows when you notice that she doesn't have a bra on and you pull her breast over the dress and put your mouth over her nipple. You lick circles around her nipple and suck on her breast then you bring the other one out of the dress and give that breast the same attention.

Wanda has her hands in your hair as she learns about this new sensation. Her pussy starts squeezing and making her hips move involuntarily and she knows that her body is craving so much more. She rubs herself on your bulge in hopes that will give you the hint to move this along. She has weeks of pent up sexual tension that was controlling her actions right now. Forget weeks. It was years worth. She's impressed with how well you've contained yourself all evening.

“I need you,” she whispers as she massages your scalp. You remove your mouth from her chest and look up into her eyes of desire. “Please,” she begs, “I’ve been patient all night.”

This makes you chuckle as you shake your head, “No you haven't.”

She breaks into a sweet smile, “Okay, maybe not tonight but I have been waiting weeks for you to make the next move.”

“Okay, that's fair,” you gently bring her face down to yours for a kiss that she is eager to return. She moves her hips on your crotch again, making your dick as impatient as Wanda is. “Let me lay you down,” you say against her lips as her hands travel down your body and try to pull on your zipper.

“No, I’m okay right here,” she pulls your hard cock out and strokes you underneath her.

“At,” you struggle with breathing between the kissing and the hand job, “At least let me grab a condom.”

Wanda giggles as she pulls her underwear aside and teases the tip of your penis with her dripping entrance. “I already told you not to worry about that,” she reminds you as she slowly sinks down onto you.

Your groans fill the room as you enjoy every sensation being sent through you from her tight warm walls. Nothing in the world felt better than this right now. “You are so awesome,” you compliment awkwardly.

Wanda giggles, “Shut up,” she kisses you in order to keep your mouth busy. She has a tight grip on your shoulders as she rides you. As she picks up a faster pace, she stops kissing you and tips her head to the ceiling. Her breasts bounce in your face as she does. You can hardly handle the view. You don't know how you got so lucky. To show how much you appreciate her, you start kissing her exposed body. Letting her know the things you don't know how to put into words yet. Your hands claw at her dress to pull it further down her torso.

The next position Wanda wants to try is with her on all fours and you thrusting into her from behind. The two of you take your clothes off as you move around the bed to get in the position. This one has you doing all of the work now. You don't mind it at all. You reach underneath her to rub her clitoris and it causes her to release a noise you hadn't heard from her before. It encourages you to do more.

You start thrusting into Wanda a little harder than before and she lets you know that she likes it. You hold her beautiful ass with your hands as you start to pound into her aching pussy. “Fuck!” you say as her walls tighten around your cock as she experiences an orgasm. Neither of you knew that she was so close. It was a surprise to her as much as it was to you. It causes Wanda's arms to go weak and she collapses her face into the pillow underneath her. You pull out of her to check on her. “Are you okay?” You nudge her shoulder softly.

Wanda turns on her side and smiles at you. “Yeah, I um, didn't expect that but, oh it was so good.” She lays on her back and reaches for you to come closer to her. When you do, she whispers in your ear, “I want you to fill me with your cum again.” You nod and your dick twitches with excitement as you slip back inside of her slippery walls. You continue to fuck her in the missionary position, kissing her on the lips every so often until you feel it happening. Cum shoots out of your cock, filling the girl of your dreams up.

When it's over, the two of you hold each other for a moment. Taking the time to appreciate the fact that this hasn't complicated your relationship the ways you've always feared. “I love you, Wanda,” you admit softly.

She sits up and gazes into your eyes, she wasn't ready to return those words but she did appreciate hearing them. So, instead of a verbal response, she kisses you and that is enough for you, for now.

The End.

#wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda smut #wanda fanfic #smut #wanda maximoff

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billk4ulitzsecretlvr · 6 months ago

Note

Hello, so I know you write about toll and I personally don’t support that, but I’m not here to hate. I just think your writing is really good and would really want you to write a tomxfem smut fic where Tom is arguing with the reader in the kitchen over something stupid (you decided) and at one point he has enough and cuts her off mid sentence, like this :“your just such an assh-“ and he suddenly grabs her and fucks her against the kitchen counter aggressively, and after he just walks away like nothing.

Of course if you’re not comfortable you don’t have to write it, it’s completely up to you!!!

A/N ☆ : Of course ! It's kinda funny , I had a fic idea like this lined up . I probably won't post that then . I hope you are okay with me using my era preferred ! . Also I appreciate the no hate <3 thank you anon ! Here is your fic :) this one might be a quick fast .. !

☆ This fic contains : rough fuck , zero aftercare , small bit of angst ( ? ) , p in v ,

☆ All used up . ☆

"I've had enough, Tom! Not everything is about you!" You shouted, planting your feet behind the kitchen island.

You stood on black combat boots, glad you chose those over heals to deal with the night. It's not like Tom was worth your time tonight anyways. You dressed in a tight black dress, a slit ran up your leg per Tom's request while purchasing.

He furrowed his eyebrows, slamming his hands down onto the marble counter.

"Yeah? Sure as hell seems like it is, or else we wouldn't be having this discussion, Y/N." He growled back, his tone of voice rang through your ears, shocking to hear him so mad.

Usually Tom was better out of you two at keeping his temper, often calmer while you yelled at him and got it all out, he knew you didn't mean it.. but right now? You could see it in his eyes, the way they narrowed and slightly twitched Everytime you rose your voice. It was driving him up a wall, you knew it.

"We have this discussion all the time, what the hell do you mean we wouldn't be having it?" You also put your hands on the counter, flinching towards Tom.

He balled his fists on the counter, the black sweater he wore ending a little before his wrists from the way his arms outstretched.

"I have no words for you." Tom mumbled, walking around the counter slowly. You leaned off the counter, still facing it as to not face him.

"A prick like you wouldn-" he cut you off by forcefully bending you over, hunching over your Shoulder.

"Finish that sentence, and so help me, Y/N, you'll be sore for every year I've been alive." He hissed, whipping his belt open.

Before you could protest, you felt him slam into you, the cold breeze of your guy's shared flat whisping against your ass.

He heard you whimper, moaning incoherent words as he continued to bury his cock deep in you, feeling yourself start to soak up around his length.

His muscular arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your cunt closer against his length as he pushed into you harder and harder each time..

Toms opposite hand crept up, wrapping around your throat. He watched as your hair and dress disheveled in outcome of his rough movement.

You couldn't help but notice how hard he was inside you as well.. putting the pieces together to realize that he'd been awful hard for a bit of time pre-argument.

Your hands were on the counter as you felt your thighs get nudged against the handles of the drawers, knowing they were ought to leave small bruises from the sheer amount of force.

Tom took his hands off your throat, removing the other off your waist as he pushed your torso harshly down against the marble countertop, pressured and sandwiched between his pelvis and the counter.

"Take it," he hissed, hearing the wet noises as his cock pumped deeply inside your entrance.

It was clear this was all coming from frustration, the way he was fucking you made it obvious.. he had always been rough, but he was especially cold when you guys were arguing and he needed to let out his pent up anger.

You felt yourself drip against his length, moaning out his name into the semi-lit building.

"Tom-!" You moaned, your voice hoarse and cracking.

He didn't take a minute to appreciate your sweet sounds, his eyes dark and focused on ruining your sweet cunt.

He pushed your dress a bit further up, examining your ass before harshly squeezing it. His hands were ought to leave finger shaped bruises sooner or later.. he was fucking you so hard, you almost got dizzy.

Before long, you felt yourself climax against him.. feeling immediately drained yet overstimulated as he kept going. He didn't seem to slow down nor speed up, he usually maintained a couple different paces during your little fuck sessions.

Tom watched as you crumbled beneath him, taking it as a hint to keep going. His cock sliding in and out rapidly, you felt the counter pretty much against your bones, it felt that he was pushing so hard against the counter that it ate through layers of fat in your thighs, feeling as if the bare bone was being hammered against the counter. You felt as his balls slapped against your clit, his movement profuse.

You would admit that it began to hurt a bit, just not enough to request he stops.

Toms growls filled the room, bringing a hand to yank your head up by your hair.

After a couple more minutes of his hatefuck, he shot his load inside of you, pumping his length a couple more times inside before pulling out. He lowered the hand on your hip to wipe up a bit of your slick, as well as his cum dripping from your entrance, only to wipe it on the back of your dress.

You were so close to a second round yourself, but Tom had finished before you came.. which left you bent over the counter as he stomped off. Not a 'i love you', or any sort of praise he normally gave.

He didn't even kiss you. He barely spoke the whole time, just growling hungrily in your ear before leaving you to clean yourself up. You felt a bit used.. feeling bad for the argument but almost glad it had happened, or else Tom wouldn't have given you this.

You caught your breath again after some time, pulling your dress down and repositioning your thong to it's rightful placing.

You pushed your hair away from your face and sat up, leaning against the counter as your processed what just happened.

With Tom stomping off, the only things more you heard was the sound of the master bedroom door slamming, the shower began to run after a little bit.

You figured you'd wait in your guy's room till he was done in the shower to apologize. It wasn't like him to leave you without aftercare..

You knew you had messed up.

☆ •°.☆ •°.☆ •°.☆ •°.☆ •°.☆ •°.☆ •°.☆ •°.☆ •°.

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daydreamgoddess14 · 2 months ago

Note

I just wanted to say I absolutely adore your writing for River and thank you so much for providing us all with much needed River content!!

If you’re happy taking nsfw requests, I was wondering if you’d be up for writing a nsfw River x female!reader insert, where after a really shitty day, River wants to help make his girl feel good/take her mind off her day, by spending the evening going down on her? I mean… have you seen the guy’s mouth?! He’s always doing something with his tongue and I just think he’d look so pretty looking up at you from between your thighs… 🫣

If prompts would help… “I told you, you would eventually start begging.” “I can never seem to get enough of you.” and “that's it, babygirl.”

Zero pressure to do this btw!! I completely understand if isn’t something you’d want to write!

Bad Day

Phewwww, did someone turn up the heat? 🔥

I loved this ask sooo much, you all probably heard my furious tippy tapping as I immediately opened a new doc to write this 😅

I hope I've done your request justice, lovely Anon! Thank you so much for asking me, I'm so honoured 🥰

As above - River Cartwright x F!Reader Insert (no use of y/n, l/n) plenty of plenty of sexy fun - enjoy!

If you had to look at another spreadsheet, your brain would explode. You were certain of it.

The poor cleaner.

She wasn't cut out for bits of skull and pulpy brain matter.

The pinchy, spiking shards of a headache were forming behind your eyes, you knew it was time to go home (even if it wasn't quite). The office was deathly quiet, everyone choosing to work from home on a Friday in order to enjoy their weekend just that little bit sooner.

No one raised an objection when you started packing up.

Close the laptop, wash your mug, pop to the loo, pack your stuff.

The flurry of messages on your phone suggest River's not had a taxing afternoon, while your lack of response has him correctly guessing that it's been a shitty day.

You fire off a quick on my way home message and drop your phone into the top of your bag, the glare isn't helping the headache.

The tube is typical Friday levels of horrific. Tourists descending by the train load, ready for a weekend of West End shows and sightseeing.

The train lurching from side to side makes you queasy and in hindsight, you definitely should have drunk more water throughout the day.

Climbing the stairs to the flat feels like climbing a mountain.

God, you hope it's River's turn to cook.

If it's not, you're getting straight on the phone to Loretta at the Italian round the corner.

The narrow hallway is pitch black when you push open the door, you sound like a bull in an antique shop trying to squeeze yourself, your laptop bag, handbag and coat through the door.

“Ugh, fucks sake,” you dump everything on the floor as soon as you're clear of the hall. “River?”

“In here,” you're about to follow the sound of his voice to the open plan kitchen living area when you spot the first candle, then the second.

There's a path of them lighting the way.

Your heels click lightly on the hardwood floor as you approach.

He's waiting - with a glass of wine - and after the day you've had, you could cry.

He must see the wobble of your bottom lip because he puts the glass down and slips an arm around your waist.

His large hand is flat on the small of your back as he pulls you towards him.

“What happened?” He asks softly, his lips on your hairline.

“Just too many meetings, too much going on. My head is pounding.” You sigh. It all seems fairly unimportant now that it's over. Fuss over nothing. River's hand travels down over the curve of your ass, poured into the tight pencil skirt. He squeezes lightly.

“No dress down day for you. Have I told you how much I love this skirt?” The blush creeps from your cheeks down into the neckline of your shirt.

The hard edge of the bad day is softening slowly.

He offers his hand, knowing your next request like clockwork. You allow him to keep you steady while you kick off your heels, banishing them out of your sight.

“Much better,” you murmur.

The height difference is much greater now, it means you can bury your face into his chest.

The cotton of his t-shirt is warm and soft against your skin and his long arms wrap around you.

You breathe in deeply.

“I probably smell like Lamb's cigarette smoke.” You shake your head against him

“You smell like you. Like home.” You loosen your arms and look up at him. “You hungry? I'll call Lorie and get some pasta?” In the candlelight, there's a twinkle in his eye.

“I'm definitely hungry, babe, but -”

“Not pasta? How about one of those giant calzones?” You go to move out of his arms but they tighten around you, keeping you close to him.

“Still not what I'm thinking,” his fingertips go to the high waist of your skirt, finding the hidden zip and sliding it down.

While you're distracted by his hands, his mouth is finally on yours and he's walking you backwards towards the bedroom.

When the skirt slips to the floor, River's careful to guide you so you don't trip over it.

“What're you up to, Cartwright?” You ask quietly, not moving your lips from his.

“Just trying to improve your shitty day.” His nose brushes against yours.

“Haven't you had a rubbish one too?” You query, the backs of your knees bumping against the edge of the bed. He shrugs.

“I get to improve my day as well then, don't I?”

With the lightest of pushes against your hip, you drop down onto the bed.

“Arms up.” He instructs, pulling your blouse over your head. “And budge up a bit,” you shuffle obligingly up the bed and lie back contentedly against the heap of pillows.

“Don’t forget the candles,” you murmur as you feel his knee dip the bed between your own. His laugh makes you smile. “I’m serious, River. Do not burn down our flat.” He pinches his tongue between his teeth.

“Yeah ok. Make yourself comfortable,” he warns as he hops back off the bed.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to keep you there all night?” He poses it as a question but the smirk on his face suggests it’s definitely not up for negotiation.

“Oh,” the blush returns.

He never fails to knock you off guard.

The candles, the adoration.

It took a little while for him to grasp that you loved him, that you wanted to show him how loved he was.

Once it clicked with him though, there was no stopping him.

He returns quickly, with a handful of the candles which he dots around the room, and your wine. He must have been home much earlier than you, he’s already dressed down in soft gym shorts and a plain t-shirt. His hair ruffled from the shower and still a little damp.

“Now that we’ve established I’m not going to burn the flat down,”

“It was kind of a priority.” You counter.

His knee has found the gap between yours and he’s crawling up the bed to you.

A predator trapping his prey. Though predator would not be the word you’d use to describe him at all currently.

“Agreed,” he told you sincerely. “So now that’s sorted,” his hand snakes behind your back to unclasp your bra, “you should know that I intend to fully take your mind off your shitty day.” The headache is duller now, just being around him is working wonders in soothing you.

“How do you propose to do that then?” You tease playfully.

He sits back on his heels, pulling the straps of your bra down your arms.

With it discarded, he traps you again with one arm either side of your waist and his hands pinned to the bed.

He leans into you, gazing intently at your tired eyes before kissing you gently.

“Just let me take care of you.” You melt into the kiss, your arms coming up to loop around his neck, trying to pull him down on top of you.

He resists, keeping his weight on his hands which haven’t left the bed.

The only move he makes is to run a finger down the side of your breast to your waist, tickling you into letting go of him. With a little huff, you acquiesce.

He clearly has intentions and won’t be swayed.

“Good girl.” He chuckles. Your thighs try to press together at the praise but his knee is in the way and feeling your legs tighten against him only makes him laugh more.

He nudges your knees further apart and gets comfortable pressing firm kisses in a line from your throat down between your breasts.

“River -” you plead.

“Yes, love?” He looks up from your body, his annoyingly gorgeous smile perfectly framed by your pebbled nipples. “Oh,” they seem to distract him from what you were about to say and when he rolls his tongue around one of them, you forget what you were about to say.

He doesn’t let you gather your thoughts, just continues to move down your body until he’s level with your plain black knickers. “You were saying?” He stops just as your back arches off the bed in an attempt to get closer to him.

“No idea. Please -” you whine, wiggling just a little.

“Please?” His breath ghosts over your core and it makes your cunt ache with wanting. “I think you can do better than that,” he nudges his nose against you, the cotton of your knickers providing the tiniest amount of friction on your clit.

“Ohh, River -”

“Yes, love?”

“I need -” you breathe, wiggling a little more brazenly.

He rests his chin on your thigh and looks up at you.

“Go on?” He asks with a wicked grin, earning him a glare from you in response.

“I want you.”

“I know, babe.”

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your knickers and tugs at them slowly.

They slip down, millimeter by millimeter.

“Tell me what you want?”

Your patience may be wearing thin, but he’s enjoying every second of stringing you along.

True to his word you’ve completely forgotten about your headache and your bad day.

“I can never seem to get enough of you,” he tells you, his eyes not leaving yours.

His warm hand pulls your underwear further down and guides your legs out of them. He’s managed to remove every item of your clothing without losing a single piece of his own.

Watching you, the point of his tongue traces a circle around your throbbing clit.

He hooks an arm over your thigh to hold you close to him.

“River… River please -” you sigh, desperate for more of his touch.

“Please what, babe?” If you were in any position to argue, you still probably wouldn’t.

Impatient or not, he knows what he’s doing to you, and he knows how much you love it.

“God, River. I’ll kill you.”

“Nah, you won’t,” he sniggers. “I’ve got all night, you know? Don’t rush on my account.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“I know I can get you to beg, however long it takes.”

“You’re cruel.”

“That’s a bit harsh. Anyway, you’re distracting me, I’ve got something very important going on here,” without further warning, he presses the flat of his tongue against your slit and glides a path through your folds.

“Fuck, River!” You shudder against him, “please, please -” he doesn’t respond, far too busy watching you writhe and arch under his grip as he fucks you with his tongue.

When you finally open your eyes again, you meet his gaze and you can tell he’s not as unaffected as he makes out to be. You hold eye contact while you grind against his mouth, his own hips rutting into the bed in response as he hungrily devours you.

You can’t hold out any longer, you’ll happily beg for more if that’s what he wants from you.

“God, please River, please. I need you to fuck me,”

He grins against you. “I told you you’d eventually start begging.” He buries his face back into your dripping cunt, building you up again until your legs shake and you’re pushed, wailing, over the edge.

“Oh, god -”

“That’s it, baby. Another.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand.

Your hands tangle in his hair as he goes back to your overstimulated, swollen clit and wraps his lips around it, sucking gently.

It’s enough to have you seeing stars.

This time, he works two fingers inside you, pumping them languidly and letting them brush against your g-spot. So close to your first orgasm, the second doesn’t take long to approach.

“You’ve got it babe, let me make you feel good,” he coaches you softly as your thighs clamp around his hand. You’ve lost all ability to speak, his name tumbles from your lips in snatches and gasps as the walls of your cunt constrict around his long fingers. He lets you down gently, withdrawing his hand and mouth slowly when you finally unclench your legs.

“That’s my girl,” he mutters, leaving as many kisses on the way back up the length of your body as he did on the way down. “You ok?” he asks, coming to lay next to you.

You can feel the length of him pressed against your hip and, despite being exhausted, the thought of having his cock split you open is appealing.

You shake your head a little, a hand shyly covering your eyes. “Don’t know,” you manage to croak.

“How’s the headache?” He kisses your temple.

“Gone,” you move your hand, not wanting to hide from him. “Thank you,” you whisper with a small grin.

“Anything for you.” He stretches his long body out, his own arousal still evident.

“Anything?” You ask, palming his hard cock through his shorts.

“And here I thought you’d have no energy left,” he groaned, rocking into your hand.

“I can never seem to get enough of you,” you mimic his earlier words and roll onto him, up on to your knees.

Your still soaked pussy leaves a damp patch on his shorts and the heat radiates from your core.

You tug his shorts down and the length of him springs free.

You mouth waters, and though you’d love to feel the weight of him on your tongue, you need him to fill you up.

You line up against him, spread your knees wide and sink down onto him.

“Fucking hell, River,” your head tips back as your tight, hot cunt stretches around him.

“Fuck,” he bucks up into you, making you gasp. “When I die…”

“Shut up,” you laugh, leaning down to kiss him. You still taste yourself on his tongue and the flashback it triggers makes you grind down onto his cock. “Silly boy.”

“I’m serious, when I go, this is what I��ll be thinking about.” He sits up, filling you even more deeply. You pull his t-shirt off him and he holds you tightly against him. With no space between your bodies, the friction is divine.

He doesn’t give you space to ride him but rolling your hips against him feels much closer to what you both need anyway.

He rests his forehead against yours, his piercing blue eyes filled with love. You cup his cheek and kiss him.

“Come for me, love,” you whisper, feeling the muscles in his back tense. The hands that grip your hips hard enough to leave a mark move, and he brings his thumb to your mouth. You take it between your lips, leaving a trail of saliva behind when he takes it back and presses it to your clit.

“Not without you,” he rasps. You rock desperately into him, your own orgasm triggering as you feel him emptying into you. You slump against him, amazed he still has the strength to hold you both up. He doesn’t for long and pulls you down on top of him.

“Holy shit, River.” You pant breathlessly.

“You need talk.”

You curl against him, the candlelight fading. Sleep is threatening to take you, but is interrupted by your rumbling stomach.

“We should get some food.” You mutter sleepily into his chest. You try to snuggle in closer but he moves away, leaving you frowning. “Where’re you going?” He pulls on his t-shirt and shorts as the doorbell rings.

“Food. I called Loretta before you got home, asked her to send something over for about 8ish.”

You stare after him as he leaves you with a quick wink.

The boy really did know how to fix a bad day.

#river cartwright #jack lowden #slow horses #slowhorsesfanfiction #river cartwright fanfic #river cartwright smut #river cartwright x reader #river cartwright x you #reader insert

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my-moo-moo · 7 months ago

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waist training

The entire time he’s known her she’s been obsessed with modifying her body appearance to the extreme. Specifically, she’s been zeroed in on the narrowness of her waist, graduating from sizes of corsets quicker than you can keep track of. She would meticulously measure her waist everyday, seemingly never satisfied with the results she’s achieved. Even when she possessed the perfect hourglass look every model would envy, she pushed further into extremes. Envy eventually turned into legitimate concern with people wondering if she had removed a couple ribs, or how crushed her organs were. It did not help that her extremely tiny waist was only exacerbated by the bountiful breasts and wide hips she’s always maintained.

Of course, he loves her and finds her beautiful throughout all phases of her body change. But sometimes, when he wraps his hands easily around her itty bitty waist, he can’t help to think it’s such a shame that her natural child bearing hips are wasted on triviality.

When her friends come to him in desperation to start an intervention to stop her from getting even smaller than she already is, he was vindicated to enact his desires.

For months you watch her continue to pull her laces tighter, so tiny a gust a wind could snap her in half. He wonders if his plan has worked at all, suspecting maybe her reproductive system wasn’t functioning at full capacity with such body modification. Her situation has gotten so dire, he began to slip more herbs in her drink.

One morning he hears her yell out loud as her maid tightens her laces for the day. It’s a peculiar scene as she is normally unfazed by the painful process— and that’s when he knew the tide was turning. Still her stubborn self has her assistant brace her knee on her back and pull hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. She puts the blame on the cooks for making unhealthy meals.

She puts herself on a strict diet ever since so that her month's worth of tightlacing progress wouldn’t be reversed. All of his attempts to convince her that she was making a health-endangering decision went ignored.

He watches quietly in the corner as the back panels of her corset drifts further apart, lacing growing looser and looser, despite being pulled to the max. He maintains that he doesn’t notice any changes in her appearance whilst knowing the numbers on her logs show her the harsh truth. Her poor maid receives the brunt of her anger, being scolded that her arms have gotten too weak.

A short few weeks later, the maid was fired and she refused to take her corset off for sleep like she should be doing. Her futile attempts to stop the inevitable had barely slowed down the millimeters she was gaining to her waist every day. Her breasts are already spilling out of her dresses with its enlargened areolas peaking out the hem, if that’s any indication of how the rest of her body is changing beneath the restraints. All she was doing was compressing her organs further— barely able to catch a shallow breath and only able to nibble a bite before feeling full.

He was concerned about the health of the life squished inside the tight space, but it turns out they’re stubborn just like their mother. Instead of her usual flat stomach, the rigid lower bonings of her corset start to flare outwards with the pressure. The laces at the back are pulled completely taut and thin, straining the eyelets that he’s sure are about to snap at any moment.

With the permanent grimace on her face, it’s clear that she knows her body is growing rapidly, however she’s still in denial as to the reason why. Any suggestion to visit the doctor would result into full blown fits, so he resolves to let her discover the hard truth on her own.

She held out longer than he expected. It took one unexpected sneeze, that led to a loud rip of a seam. Her hands immediately fly behind her to keep her corset secure, but it only exacerbates the tear in the construction.

Tears are flowing down her cheeks as if she knew her bubble is about to burst. There’s no way they could lace her back again.

“It’s time to let it go, darling,” he tells her gently. He distracts her with pecks on her cheek as he slowly removes her fingers away from the corset. With some help loosening the rest of the laces, the crusty corset falls off her body, and her body is set free. She watches in horror as her gut spills out of her like a landslide. It’s a wonder she had been holding all that in for so long. Her sobs become louder and forlorn, especially now that her lungs were able to properly expand once again.

It took plenty of effort to calm her anguish down. He repeats in her head that a few short months the baby will be out of her and she can start her tightlacing ambitions over again. Her hand clutches the pronounced bump settling in her lower abdomen, hanging onto the reassurance that her rib cage remains narrow, and her curves are still pronounced.

Unfortunately, she only began to accept the damage one baby would do to her pristine body, and would’ve never expected the bombshell the doctor was going to drop— or rather a total of four bombshells.

She fainted at the announcement and he couldn’t blame her. She’s spent her lifetime training her body to be the record smallest, and it’s about to be utterly and irreversibly ruined in under a year’s time. He doesn’t dare to let out his part in this.

A quadruplet pregnancy was practically unheard of— no one around her, not even her doctors could confidently tell her what to anticipate. Clinging onto her delusions, she tried to exercise and minimize her intake to limit her growth. Incontestably, none of the efforts she has known to be true could halt the growth of the babies. Without any restraints, her belly shot outward, gaining inches frustratingly quicker than she’s ever managed to squeeze out in a year. It looked especially ridiculous, like a sore thumb, given her narrowed torso. And then her belly began to spread to fill out her waist, pushing her unnaturally bent rib cage back outward.

Her doctor had been concerned her spine might split in half, let alone be able to carry four fetuses, but defying expectations, her body was highly adaptable because of her long experience with waist training. Her organs were used to functioning with limited space. The same lower ribs that were susceptible to molding are even more easily pried apart to make room for the growing babies. And just like he had clocked, her hips were made for childbearing and only continuing to widen with the rushing hormones.

When she had finally lost complete definition at her waist, she broke down, giving up entirely on the strict regimens she had always followed. And yet she still clung onto her obsession with numbers. Every single day when she measures her circumference, the measuring tape slips a couple notches, and her despair slips even further. He tells her how proud he was that she was gaining weight. He tells her how beautiful she was, glowing more than ever.

He wasn’t sure if she was internalizing what you were saying, when he would catch her examining her rapidly changing body in front of the mirror. One morning she comes waddling to you to share the news she had gained ten whole centimeters around in a single day. It is then he could identify the exhilaration behind her timid expression and encourages it, whispering praises in her ear. A small smile slips out and it slowly grows more confident with time.

She started eating beyond her fill, and would be noticeably disappointed when her daily measurements were stagnant. The obsessiveness that used to fuel her extreme waist cinching was now redirected to expanding her midsection. She was seeing results quicker than ever which only fueled her brain’s addictive reward system.

As a result of her body’s hard work, her transformation was so drastic, family members barely recognized her.

His fingers used to touch when he wrapped his hands around her teensy tiny waist, but now he’s not even sure his arms would make it all the way around. Gone are her concave curves, her gravid belly has gotten so enormous that one could see it bulging out, even from the back. The mass stuck out far in front of her, until it got so heavy it drooped against her thigh. Her breasts and buttock have received similar treatment of getting even more plump and bountiful, like they were meant to be.

His vision from the start has been more than realized. His instincts were right. This wasn't the figure she had always lusted for, but she suited this version of curvy. With all this extra padding enveloping her bones, she looked extra youthful yet sexy. He will savour these last weeks of pregnancy until she got her body back.

Everyone assumed that she would rebind herself in a corset immediately after birth. The babies have left her body, but her ribs remained flared outward, bones jutting out from her sides. Her hips have been widened and fat still clung onto her body. He doubts she could get back to the extreme state her body was in pre-pregnancy, but even after her doctor cleared her for regular physical activity again, she seems to have none of her old drive to slim down. He catches her grabbing and pulling at her loose, stretch mark ladened skin, and wonders if she despises what the pregnancy (what he) did to her body.

“Are you sad that you lost all your progress?” he asks with guilt weighing heavy in his heart.

“Yes,” she admits, but he doesn’t expect what she follows with. “I… I miss my belly. Do you think my belly could get larger next time?”

He smiles. His little push has not only irrevocably changed her body, but her mindset. She would always have an innate desire for waist training�� just now in the other direction.

#pregnancy fic #pregnancy kink #multiples #body image #body dysmorphia #dubcon #fpreg #my fic

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