Sadgirlwine

23she/her

[bellaj2peg]

[burgundysnow]

Only with you.

Word count: 2.4k Pairings: Luke Castellan x Dionysus!reader. Summary: Having a kid right now would be very bad. But maybe in the future! Though the future seems more nearer then expected when Luke figures out Dionysus isn’t only the god of wine…. Warnings: Mdni, all characters are aged up. Fem!reader. Breeding kink. Dirty talk. Piv. No condom. Missionary. Daddy issues. Established relationship. Also I took a little lore from the lost hero series so it’s a little inaccurate.

“Can we talk?” Is not something you want to hear from the lips of camps very attractive pretty boy. 

You like talking, Luke likes talking. Especially to you. But his voice didn’t sound like it was the casual ‘let’s pick an argument just because I think it’s amusing to watch you get upset for no reason.’

You agreed because Luke is good at communicating. It’s one of his skills that make him so green flag worthy, something for the Aphrodite girls to swoon over. 

But for some reason this time your heart is skipping Beats. And not in the ‘im so I love with you’  way they talk about in movies. No this is scary. Your hearts skipped beats because it feels a little like having a panic attack. 

For a moment you think this is it. Luke is finally going to go after someone new, someone who doesn’t pick fun at his ‘bad’ sword fighting skills even though everyone knows he’s the best at camp. You do it just to annoy him. 

But then Luke takes your hand. And leads you into the trail in the woods. The trail that was specifically designed for walking on, magic forced the harpy’s away. They won’t attack if you’re walking on the trail, but if you fall off it’s a different story. 

Luke is acting too sweet to be breaking up with you, unless that was to soften the blow somehow. He’s rubbing your knuckles and helping you over big roots. But you try and catch his eyes and he’s somewhere else in that bewitching head of his. 

Even if Luke isn’t breaking up with you, there’s something he wants to talk about which is scary enough. 

“Are you upset at me?” About five minutes ago Luke finally let go of your hand. You know it’s because it was getting all sweaty in his palm but it still hurt. 

“Upset?” Luke looks up, more confused than someone breaking up would look like. 

“Yeah. I just— you haven’t said anything in a little while.” 

Luke hums, he’s grabbing your hand again as you walk through the trail. Even if his hand is sweaty. It’s like he can’t stay away. The trees above twine together, its shady and rays of sun peek through. It feels magical, and maybe whatever Luke has to talk to you about will be less upsetting with the scenery.

“Sorry. I want to talk to you about something but I—.” He sighs, jaw tightening, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know how to say it.” 

This time you nod. It’s hard. Talking. Some people rush into it and say the wrong things too fast. Others wait too long and never say they’re peace. You understand the feeling of the words being right on your tongue yet not knowing enough to let them out. 

“I’ll wait.” Forever if I have too. 

“How much do you really know about your dad?” Luke starts. It must be a big weight off his chest because he’s finally looking at you again. 

You understand why Luke is asking, though you thought you were over this. Most kids are jealous that your father resonates here at camp. And he can’t leave, not until those hundred years are up. 

But the truth of the matter is, it’s no different. Sure there will be times when Dionysus will be telling a story at night with the s’mores. And a pride will bloom in your chest while you think “that’s my dad.” 

Compared to all the other gods you can see, hear, and actually touch him if you wanted. But just as fast as that thought comes it leaves. 

Would Dionysus stay if he wasn’t shackled to camp? Why doesn’t he spend more time with you or your siblings? 

He’s just another god like any other. No better or worse. 

“Probably know as much as you, why?” 

Luke shrugs, but you can tell the words are festering in the back of his throat again. 

“What do you get by him being your father? Like Dakota drinks copious amounts of Kool-Aid and Castor can control madness. What about you?” 

You think for a moment, you could control vines just like all your other siblings if you tried hard enough. But other than that you live a pretty normal life. It works like that. 

“I don’t know.” And I’m scared to find out was on the tip of your tongue. 

Luke nodded, he saw the underlying message in your eyes and scooted to a different topic. Surprisingly with Luke you didn’t focus on the heat on your back or the noises of the harpies in the trees. 

“Did you know Dionysus was the god of fertility?” 

You almost want to laugh. It’s sounded like his words had weight. Like that was the question he’s been holding in for so long. Something so simple. 

“Yeah.” You smile at his surprised look. “He hooked up with Aphrodite one time. They had like the real minor fertility god but I mean— Dionysius still contributed to the cause. Why do you think he had my twin siblings?” 

Luke thinks over it, shakes his head while scoffing out a laugh. Almost shy. 

“Do you—“ He laughs again and now you’re stopping in your tracks to look at him properly. There was no one else coming on the trail. “Do you think… you’re like… extra fertile?” 

You blink, you have half a mind to slap him and another have to bring him in for a kiss. 

“Luke.” You scoff, trying to scold him but your smiles too big to be annoyed. “You such a boy.” 

“I’m sorry!” Luke’s apologizing even though he doesn’t have to. You feel too giggly to be mad at him. “But I mean— you gotta have like an extra power right? You don’t feel like, extra needy sometimes.” 

You straighten just a little bit. Yeah there’s that feeling that washes over you at night. Or the aching in your stomach when you watch one of half-bloods youngest campers no older then three do her own little training. 

It’s like— baby overload fever. All times of the month. But you’ve never admitted that to anyone, and you’re not going to start now with your boyfriend Luke. 

“Only for you.” 

“You’re flirting.” 

You walk back into a stride, Luke taking your hand and squeezing it twice in apology. 

“Is it working?” You tease. 

“Yeah.” Luke speaks more serious than you were expecting. “I mean we were just talking about your fertility, yeah it’s working.” 

You bite back a smile. Having half a mind to bounce on his bones but this is a public trail. 

“Do you think about kids?” 

Luke says it much quieter than before. Like there’s a soft longing in his voice. 

“Only with you.” 

“I’m serious.” Luke whines. 

“Me too.” 

And it was true. Before Luke, the thought of a baby might have passed by you once or twice. But now when thinking about it you can see Luke’s face in your dreams. See him holding your newborn baby and cradling it to sleep. Or Luke crouching down to try and help your toddler walk. 

Is thinking about investing in playing swords too soon?

“Do… do you think about kids?” You ask hesitantly. 

“Only with you.” Luke sends back the same answer. No hesitation. It shouldn’t make you smile that big. But it does. “Maybe we should like…. Test that theory out.” 

You shake your head. The trail coming to an end and you can hear the voices of screaming kids come closer. 

“What theory? That I’m more fertile than usual?” 

“Yeah.” Luke nods. You want to bite him. Out of pain or pleasure you haven’t decided yet. 

“Luke…. We can’t have a baby.” 

And Luke out of all people knows this. With his big plans in life, and the way his own mother treated him. But he still asks.

“Why not?” 

We’re not married. No house to ourselves. The world out there is unsafe for regular children let alone demigods. 

Even with all those reasons. Your mind still screams but it’s worth it. 

gods maybe you are more fertile then usual. 

“Goodbye Luke.” 

You break away with a kiss, dinner is in two hours and you have more camp duty’s to attend too. 

“Hey—“ 

Luke grabs your wrist. Pulling you back into him. It was easy when you didn’t actually want to leave him. “One more?” 

You kiss his lips once more, and it tastes like love and future bad decisions.

“Fuck— Luke.” 

Your chest heaves, rough in and outtake of breath while the headboard bangs against the wall. 

Ten minutes. You have ten minutes of mindless, pleasurable sex with Luke in the Dionysus cabin, provided by your dad. 

Technically he supplies the bed, the roofing. And the story telling at s’mores tonight at which he goes catching the attention of all the campers. 

But also curse him. Curse him for your now beyond curiosity about fertility and baby’s. You kinda hope Dionysus gets this feeling, this slight off feeling while sleeping tonight while you disrespect him by sleeping with a Hermes kid.

And fuck if Luke isn’t good at it too. 

“S’that good?” His thumb rubs over your clit, perfect speed, perfect pressure. “Hm? You like that?” 

“Y…yes i—“ 

“Oh… gods.” 

Lukes hair tickles your cheek as he rests his forehead in your neck, breathing you in. “Your pussy is just…. Sucking me in.” 

You try and nod along with him, not really focusing on his praise just his voice. Hands grasping at his back muscles, needing something to hold onto. 

“How is this pussy so good.”

Genuinely, Luke’s asking. Because why does it feel like years he’s gone without his dick being submerged around your glossy velvet walls when it was just last week he was doing this same thing. And it felt just as good then. 

Sticky, icky wet noises bounce off the walls. You’re glad that every camper is far way from there cabins right now, because even if they weren’t it would’ve been hard to break you two apart at the moment. 

A coil starts to form in your stomach, deep and strong, almost like wine. Curse your father again— but it’s true. You genuinely feel like you’re about to spill and stain something. 

“Luke m’gonna…” 

“Gonna cum?” Luke helpfully prompts. Kissing down the collar of your neck. 

“Cum with me?” He asks so sweetly. It would be hard to say no. Especially to that drooly bottom lip and begging brown eyes. 

“gods— you are so fuckin’ warm. Where can I cum? Can I cum inside?” 

It’s a bad idea. You just talked about how it would be a bad idea. But right now in the bed and confides of the walls it suddenly doesn’t feel like the worst idea. 

In fact. Even with his cock pushing in and out of your tight hole. It doesn’t feel like enough. Suddenly you’re more empty than a barrel of water on a hot summer day. 

You have the need to be filled. The comfort of a weight inside of you, and you need it now. Provided by Luke. 

“Yes— please.” 

“Please?” Luke mocks just slightly, it edges you on. “You want a baby that bad?” 

He pouts. And that’s how you feel. Nodding, there’s desperation in both your eyes. 

“You just need this pussy to be filled right? With my baby. You want me to breed you?” 

“Yes! Luke… please.” 

You’re so close. Could almost taste that sweet release and all the simulation coming together. 

“I’ll breed you baby. We can have kids. However many you want- oh fuck. And I’ll fill you up again, and again. And again—“ 

Your cunt pulses once, and after that it’s rapid fire as the orgasm crashes over you. Pleasure all the way down to your toes crawling over your body. 

Luke’s jaw tenses as he cums, harsh breathing and soft groaning. warmth fills your insides while he gives the last few thrusts. Still twitching as he softens. 

Dripping all his seed inside of something that’s so achy and ready.

Luke’s forehead knocks with yours, sweaty and hot. Kissing your lips while trying to catch air. It’s cliché but this is one of your favorite parts. The aftermath where you talk and Luke cleans you up before heading to his own cabin for the night. 

“I know… I’m supposed to be like… sorry?” Luke starts. He’s already smiling. “Because we just talked about how bad an idea it would be to cum inside.” 

You nod. So much for that plan. 

“But fuck. That felt too good to ever give back.”

Luke pulls his dick out to lay down beside you. The warmth and sticky ness of your insides feels like it’s working magic, which you hope isn’t true. You can’t have kids. But on the off chance that you did it wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

“I got it, don’t move.” Luke moves to the bathroom, gets a towel and softly cleans up between your legs. Some part of you wants to tell him to stop, to let the sperm settle just to see if something will happen. But that’s the irrational part of you. 

“Are you upset with me?” Luke repeats your words from earlier in the day. It seems silly now to think Luke would even want to break up with you after this. 

“For cumming inside? No, I told you too.” 

Luke hums. He throws the towel in the hamper and swiftly finds his boxers and pants to put on. You’d love for him to stay with you longer, until you fall asleep. But if your siblings find you here in this position, it’d be almost as bad as Dionysus’s withdrawals symptoms.

“Hey.” Luke brushes hair out of your face. Kissing your lips softly. Breathlessly. So unfair that he steals all your air. You wonder if you have the same trick on him to play. (You do). 

“Someday?” One word. Yet it held so much meaning. 

Someday you will have children. Someday Luke will be the father and you will be the mother. Someday you will be free to figure out how much this fertility power actually works. 

But someday is not today. 

“Someday.” You echo and let the feeling of Luke’s lips linger on your cheek. 

Maybe not so surprisingly tomorrow brings a soreness between your legs and a giddy Luke. He snagged a plan b for you and watched you swallow the pill while you asked where he even found one. Because you’re pretty sure they don’t have those in the camp’s general store. 

“I have ways.” Luke mumbles while pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

All while Mister D gives you both a hard glare from the other side of the room.

[sentient-stove]

Obsession asks the question of “man or bear but what if Bear is actually a man and you’re stuck in your own mind as you’re coerced into loving the man and getting raped by him because he’s just a niceeeeeee guy pookie who’s too scared to confess to you and get friendzoned. Wouldn’t that be fucked up?”

[fridasstrawberriess]

Joey lynch

[feelinglostineverycrowd]

When Joey has been LITERALLY fighting for his life all day against his abusive dad and battling his intense addiction and then Shan comes home and asks 'So how does it fit'

[centralperkpoet]

My man Joey is trying😭 but my sweet Shan <3

[msselfobsession]

[centralperkpoet]

My fav underrated tommen boy <3

[thesecretdiaryofnoah]

Sorry but with the cigarette hanging off his lip, that’s exactly the look he’s giving you while you’re up against the wall with your panties down and his hands between your legs

[ptventhusiast]

𝐒𝐢𝐝 𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

not my usual type of character but sid jenkins from skins!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

quite the shy guy with foreplay

“Uh.. what’re you doin’?” Sid stops your hand as it was inching towards his fairly noticeable erection.

“What d’you think?” You smirk, placing a kiss on the hand that he’s holding onto you with.

He instantly goes pink, loosening his grip. “Bollocks..”

“Want me to suck on them?” Sid lets out a gasp and shakes his head.

“Well, I won’t know if that’s a yes or no until you speak, Sidney..”

“Wha- No! Are you mad?!” He sputters, but his next words were cut off by a small grunt made by the motion of you stroking his already-leaking cock.

“F-fuh..” His protests to stop previously have stopped, and you knew he wouldn’t say no to begin with.

You stop just as you hear his moans turn into heavy breathing, knowing that he’s close.

“H-hey.. agh..” He shuts his eyes and purses his lips. “Why’d you stop?”

“Y’know,” You say, beginning to grip his dick again. “We can’t have you full before the main course.”

Once again, Sid’s blushing. “Well, let’s get on with i- nnh~!” You stroke faster than before, base to tip.

“S-sto- haah.. slow down.. fuck!”

You keep the same rhythm. Base, tip, base, tip.

“J-just hold o-on.. I’m about to- fuck.. nngh~! c-cum..” This time, you don’t deny him and he cums messily over his jeans.

You slide off his pants and boxers fully as you get down on your knees.

“Okay.. That’s enough.. just-..” Sid pants. “W-wait.. why’re you on your-“

There’s no time for him to finish speaking. You’ve already begun to swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, licking up the remaining cum from the last ejaculation.

“No.. no..!” Sid cries. “Stop- fuck- aagh..”

You plunge his cock into your mouth, making tears spring into your own eyes at his outstanding length. He folds over you as his legs begin to tremble.

“Ju-just stop.. fuck-“ He sobs. “Just g-get off me.. haa.. already..”

You make a humming sound with his cock still deep into your throat.

“Shit- don’t- nngh..!” He immediately lets out another load in your mouth, going straight down to your throat. You swallow, taking his cock out of your mouth with a pop.

You look at Sid, who’s all pink and puffy-eyed.

“I-I didn’t like that.. nnh..” He weeps. You stroke his thigh and give it a kiss, making him flinch.

“Don’t d-do that..” He scowls. “Next t-time.. just fuck me..”

LOVES when you wear his glasses

You’re on top of Sid, humping him from within his pants as he breathes heavily into your neck.

“F-fuck..” He gasps. “T-take my pants off.. please,”

You unzip his jeans and inch it down even slower. Your careful movements have Sid squirming around, like he’s never waited in his life.

“Well g-get on with it..”

With that, you fling his pants off of his legs and onto the floor.

“Stay still, okay?” You say directly into his ear, giving him goosebumps.

“Mhm..” He says, anxiously watching you slide all the way down, swallowing his cock whole.

“Haaah.. fuck-..” He moans like a girl, feeling you bounce up and down on him faster each time.

Between the plaps coming from down below and the creaking of the bed, Sid feels his glasses coming off of his face.

“Wha-“

You slide them on yourself, stopping for a split second before ramming yourself down even deeper.

Sid’s lost in a trance. He gawks at you in his glasses, going up and down on his cock, feeling every inch of you..

“O-oh fuc- nngh~..” Sid throws his head onto your shoulder. “I-I’m cu-cumming..”

“Go ahead,” You say, clenching around him hard as he lets out his load, a soft whimper escaping his lips.

You move to take off Sid’s glasses but he catches your arms.

“Keep..” He breathes. “Keep ‘em on, just a bit longer.”

[yasministration]

hands full - harry potter

summary: sex with harry potter makes you lose your ability to think, even when his mother is speaking to him on the other side of the locked door. 1.3k words of basically pure filth. porn and no plot. cw: almost getting caught? kind of? concussions and interruptions au - can be read as a standalone

The oxygen in the room was heavy, barely making its way into your lungs with every slow shove of his pelvis into yours, your skin dragging upwards in a pinch with the force of Harry’s moving hips, rolling over the bones of yours with bruising potential. Moans were fluidly tumbling out of your lips, like a chant, a prayer of some sort that no one could prevent.

Harry’s hair tickled the skin of your neck, his hot breath pulsating against the layer of sweat coating you. He murmured sweet words, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It was half for himself, half for you. “Oh, you’re doing so good for me, sweetheart,” That one got a particularly loud keen from your, your hips bucking up to meet his as you clenched around his cock. “My perfect girl” He added with a moan.

“You feel so good.” You whimpered with your own praise, nails dragging across the wet skin of his back. His muscles contracted under your harsh touch, everything else about the situation so sweet and gentle. One of Harry’s big hands reached down to curl underneath your thigh, pulling it up to mirror your other leg, folded up with your foot flat against the sheets. He manhandled your limbs, spreading your legs wider for him to reach deeper crevices of your cunt, constantly leaking around his erection to encourage his movements.

Harry didn’t pry anything out of you; one glance your way had him confirming that you were too deep in pleasure to respond to anything he had to say. A particularly loud moan flew between your lips, Harry’s cock reaching just that much further into you, nearing your cervix. Harry groaned as your hand snaked into his hair, massaging his scalp. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, though he continued to lazily thrust into you.

The atmosphere in the room completely stilled for a moment, both of you pausing to ensure you heard the same thing - a knock on the door.

“Harry, you in here?”

Harry rose off you, and his cock plunged further into you. You bit your lip, a noise of pleasure vibrating in your throat at the feeling. Your boyfriend’s eyes widened, and he pressed a strong hand over your mouth, shooting you a panicked look. “Yeah mum! In here!” Harry shut his eyes briefly, pulling his hips out again at a sluggish pace, but he saw the effect it had on you when his eyes fluttered open again; head digging into the pillow, your mouth parting beneath the palm of his hand.

“Is y/n here?” She asked, pressing her ear to the door to hear your responses from inside. Harry gasped quietly, inhaling deeply as he pushed back into you, calling out “Yeah, she’s here!” Giving you a pointed look, Harry withdrew his hand from over your mouth, and you gripped his wrist to ground you, saying loudly “Hi!” It was all you could muster.

The door handle rattled as Lily Potter tried entering her son’s room, eyebrows furrowing when it didn’t open. “Well, let me come in and say hi!” Harry’s hand returned to your mouth as he leaned his weight on you again, praying that his mum would get the hint and go away. “I can’t open the door, my hands are full!”

“Let y/n open the door then.” Oh, she was clueless. Harry groaned, a mix of pleasure and frustration. He saw your eyes widen in shock, one of your hands over the one he had on your mouth, keeping him in place. You shook your head as well as you could. Harry huffed into the crook of your neck. “Mum,” He began with an obviously annoyed whine, “She can’t open the door, her hands are also full.”

The startled “Oh” that came from the other side of the door was barely audible to you, because Harry had decided to silence himself by sucking on the skin of your neck. Unfortunately for you, it just made it more difficult to stay quiet, your hips twitching upwards at the added friction. Harry kept an ear out for his mother’s subsiding footsteps before finally whispering filthily “Yeah baby, I know you want to cum.” And luckily for you, he removed the hand from your mouth — now coated with saliva — and used two fingers to rub harsh circles on your clit, immediately making your legs twitch around his torso.

“Can you try being quiet?” He peeked up from the dark crook of your neck where he was hidden, grinning when you nodded quickly, eyebrows furrowed as you chewed on your bottom lip, trying your best not to make any noises. Your breathing was heavy, and your hands moved to grasp each of Harry’s biceps, nails digging into his supple skin as he continued working you towards your orgasm.

“Harry” You whined, trying to turn your face towards him, trying to communicate to him that you were close. “Oh, I know baby, I know.” He whispered, separating his lips from your neck to bring you into a kiss. You gasped loudly, back arching off the mattress, pushing your chest into his as one of your hands returned to grip his hair, pushing him further into the kiss. Harry’s cock twitched inside you and you were grateful to know you weren’t the only one nearing your orgasm.

Harry forced his tongue into your mouth, tongue gliding against yours. Your brain took too long to communicate with your body from the exhaustion, and you were barely able to kiss him back, but Harry took control of the messy kiss, revelling in the rare sloppiness you kissed him with. Fuck, he was turned on by merely knowing the effect he had on you.

“Gonna cum, Harry.” You warned in a shaky whisper, tilting your head back to make space between your lips and Harry’s. “Cum for me, baby.” His rough fingertips on your clit drove you past the edge, body stiffening in a storm of white-hot pleasure, washing over you with a force you couldn’t explain if you tried. But now, you submitted to the pleasure of your orgasm, hearing Harry’s guttural moan in your ear as his head dropped down to rest on your shoulder, cock driving into you to the hilt, his entire body freezing with the exception of his hips, stuttering into you while he emptied his load into you.

“I love you.” Harry moaned loudly, his body going limp on top of yours, chest to chest with you as your legs fell flat on the bed around his torso. It took you a while to come back to your senses, fingers brushing Harry’s hair away from his face as you finally replied “I love you too.” Your boyfriend’s cheeks flushed hotly at the realisation that he had admitted to loving you balls-deep inside you. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but the hundreds of other times these three important words had been said were all while fully sober, not drunk on pussy.

“I need to go say hi to your mum.” At the mention of his mother, Harry felt his cock soften inside you, and he pulled out with a groan, flopping next to you on the bed. You turned your head to the side, pressing a kiss on Harry’s cheek before struggling out of bed. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, then go say hello.”

Harry perked up, pushing himself up on his elbows, his gaze following your naked body across his room. “Shower?” He repeated, a silent question lingering in the air. You rolled your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at your lips as you opened the door to his bathroom. “Yes, you can join.”

Harry scrambled up, leaping over the other side of his bed so he could catch up to you before you shut the bathroom door in his face.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @potterheadlovespotter, @matcha-kitty13, @thenasoneshots, @hisparentsgallerryy, @liviessun, @rory-cakes, @heebiemcjeebies, @fl0weryannie, @muffinemmaa, @anne061989, @regsg18, @graciereads, @adharaoaklyn, @hawaii2320, @c0ldstvff, @bigbodycity, @starmaniii, @urmom101, @simpfortoomanymen, @ennaholic, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @eunicefrogsandfoes, @dreamamubarak, @quinquinquincy, @vxyselectric, @xmatcha-kitty13, @liliemb04, @crowleythesexydemon, @lovelyygirl8, @matcha-kitty13, @dlljdhsh, @yegrnn, @thenasoneshots, @marauder-era6779, @xadenswhore, @5sospenguinqueen

[snowynns]

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ 𝓟.𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍: Handsome boy take care !

♡. 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐬 : Percy doesn't think he's attractive, as an Aphrodite kid you are on a mission even though you don't know each other at all.

Percy never thought of himself as handsome...

Heroes were supposed to be handsome but !! He thought he had other and better qualities. Heroes were supposed to be brave, reckless and maybe even a little stupid.

Confidence? That was for Apollo kids and Ares boys who flexed in every reflective surface they passed.

Percy just... well, he fought monsters, got scraped up, forgot to wash his face all the time, and figured that was enough.

For Gods' sake he was 13 years old and on survival mode, it was okay if he didn't look good !

But oh, his reflection in the Camp Half-Blood bathroom mirror and brain disagreed.

Maybe Percy lacked self-love and self-esteem; honestly, he had a zit on his forehead and marks all over his body from battles, so why was he going to try to change that either?

The guy didn't know someone had their eyes on him.

You, an Aprhodite kid, noticed how he never looked at himself in mirrors, how he scrubbed dirt from his hands but never bothered with the cuts on his face until they scabbed over rough and uneven. And for sure you noticed the faint redness on his cheeks from sunburns he never treated properly or the way his curls frizzed because he probably didn’t use anything but whatever soap was near.

You noticed— and instead of judging, you tilted your head and thought: Oh. I could work with that.

Being a daughter of Aphrodite meant people assumed you cared only about perfection; flawless skin, symmetrical smiles, love at first sight... But love, real love, wasn’t about perfection.

It was about potential.

And Percy Jackson had so much of it that it hurt to look at him.

The first time you approached him, he was sitting by the lake, skipping stones with a frown on his face, he had some fight marks on his face, possibly Clarisse had put him through hard training. The stones bounced— once, twice, three times— before sinking. He sighed and went for another.

“You know,” you said casually, dropping down beside him, “saltwater helps with inflammation, but too much sun damage cancels it out.”

He blinked at you as the stone in his hand slipped. It didn’t skip at all— just plopped straight into the water, disappearing instantly.

“Uh, hi?”

You smiled. “You don’t take very good care of yourself.”

Percy stared at you for a beat, then let out a disbelieving laugh. “Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “We’ve known each other for, what, ten seconds? And you’re already critiquing my life choices, that’s gotta be some kind of record.”

“I’m not critiquing,” you replied evenly. “I’m just… noticing?”

“Oh,” he said dryly. “Well, in that case, please continue. I love being perceived.”

He picked up another stone, rolling it between his fingers like he was trying to focus on literally anything else but you didn’t move away and, also, didn’t apologize. You just watched him— his sun-reddened skin, the faint roughness along his jaw where a cut had healed poorly, the way he hunched slightly forward.

“You should be more careful,” you added after a moment, tone still gentle. “The sun around here isn’t forgiving.”

He snorted and replied without looking at you. “I fight monsters, actual monsters, with teeth and claws and poison. I think I’ll survive a little sunburn.”

“A little,” you echoed.

That made him glance at you again, brows knitting together. “Is this your thing?” he asked, a bit of anger creeping in. “Just… showing up out of nowhere and telling people what they’re doing wrong with their lives?”

Percy didn't add how annoying it was that someone as beautiful as you would comment on his unkempt appearance, it made him feel ashamed.

“Only when they’re being unnecessarily cruel to themselves,” you replied this time.

“Great,” he said. “So now I’m self-destructive. Love that for me!”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him— not like a project, but like someone worth paying attention to. “You don’t have to neglect yourself just because you’re used to getting hurt.”

He shrugged, tossing the stone harder than necessary. It skipped once, twice, then sank.

“Comes with the job,” he said lightly, like it didn’t matter.

“Mmmh.”

Over the next few weeks, you made it a habit.

You began sitting near him at meals— not directly across from him! Just within reach of conversation, close enough that he became aware of your presence before he actually realized you were there. Sometimes you didn’t even speak; you’d just be there, eating, occasionally nudging his plate closer when he got distracted and forgot to finish his food.

Or after training, when his arms were sore and his knuckles bruised and his head was buzzing with leftover adrenaline, you somehow always ended up walking beside him on the way back to the cabins.

Maybe it was your Aphrodite presence but you made things feel natural, not too flirty or too planned before hand just... natural.

You’d ask him how the session went, listen without interrupting, let him ramble when he felt like it and fall quiet when he didn’t.

And then there were small things.

The scrapes he usually ignored, the burns he’d shrug off, the shallow cuts along his forearms that weren’t bad enough to warrant attention but still stung when he moved. You noticed all of them, and you always took care of them.

“Hold still,” you’d say gently while reaching for the ambrosia.

“It’s not that bad,” he’d argue, even as he let you take his wrist. “Besides, don't you children of Aphrodite hate getting dirty?”

“You say that about everything,” you’d reply, breaking off a piece anyway. “aaand I don't really care.”

You never made a big deal of it or acted like he was fragile. You just treated the smaller wounds with the same care you’d give a serious one, pressing the ambrosia into his palm and waiting patiently while it did it's work.

Sometimes you didn’t even comment on the injury itself.

Sometimes you’d pause, studying his face for a fraction with your hands on his cheeks, and then hand him the ambrosia anyway— like you could see the tension sitting behind his eyes or the stress he carried from being the kid of the prophecy.

He didn’t ask how you knew.

At first, he tried to joke about it. Tried to wave you off with sarcasm and half-smiles, as if this was another weird thing Camp Half-Blood was doing to him.

But you didn’t get bored— didn’t move on to someone easier or shinier or more obviously impressive. You stayed and with it some change came for Percy.

He found himself glancing around the pavilion before sitting down, unconsciously angling his body toward the space you usually occupied. He slowed his pace after training, just a little, allowing the walk to continue and both of you to talk about everything and nothing. He stopped brushing off his smaller injuries and stopped insisting he was fine before you even had a chance to ask.

One evening, as you pressed ambrosia into his hand for a shallow burn along his shoulder, he frowned down at it.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

You looked up at him. “I know.”

That was the thing; you never acted like he owed you anything, you just took care of him because you wanted to.

And Percy Jackson— hero, son of Poseidon, boy who had learned early how to endure— didn’t know what to do with it.

He only knew that, somehow, without meaning to, he’d started feeling better and you were the main reason of it.

“I’m not fixing you,” you continued, meeting his eyes. “I’m taking care of you,” you added. “There’s a difference.”

And yeah, people couldn't believe what was going on with you two!

It started with looks— glances exchanged across the dining pavilion, murmurs that followed you both, the subtle shift in tone whenever your situation came in. Aphrodite kids expected to notice patterns, but none thought of you noticing Percy Jackson.

One afternoon, as you sat on your bed absentmindedly organizing a small collection of salves and oils, one of your half-siblings leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, but the lips curved in open amusement.

“Good luck,” she said with a laugh that was cruel and dismissive. “I mean it. Even mom herself couldn’t turn that into a heartthrob.”

You simply capped the jar in your hands and smiled faintly.

You didn’t need to convince anyone.

At fifteen, two years later, Percy was still very much in that uncomfortable phase where he wasn't sure what to do with himself, his body, or his image. He saw everyone around him discovering their confidence, and even with the war going on, everyone was trying to look like the whole demigod pack.

And he certainly didn’t know what to do with you. He felt it, though! He could admit that much to himself, even if he couldn’t articulate it yet. He felt something whenever you were near, the way your presence seemed to pull his attention away from everything else, the way his chest would tighten when your hand brushed against his, the way he became hyper-aware of the sound of your laugh or the tilt of your head.

Did he know he felt something? Yes. Towards you? Definitely.

And yet… what could he do? His eyes were on a daughter of Aphrodite. A beautiful one, if not the most beautiful in his admittedly biased view.

If, when you had both been thirteen, you were already remarkable, now, at fifteen, with the slow, inevitable changes of puberty, you were growing into a full woman. Not just taller, or more mature, or curvier— but someone who knew herself, whose gaze lingered long enough to make him second-guess himself and whose smile could disarm him if he let it.

And trust me, Percy had been letting it.

It terrified him, in a way he wouldn’t admit to anyone, not even Annabeth. Every time you approached him— whether it was to hand him ambrosia for a fresh scrape, to joke with him after a rough training session, or help him clean his face— he felt it: the way his heart picked up speed without warning, his hands grew clammy and the world narrowed to him who could just look at you.

He doesn't know what to do, not even when you grab his shirt and connect your lips to his.

He’s never kissed anyone before.

It’s a fact that hits him all at once, right in the middle of it, even as your lips press against his and the world seems to tilt off it's axis. He hadn’t known what to expect— hadn’t even let himself imagine this— but whatever vague idea he’d had in his head doesn’t come close to how it feels.

He’s painfully aware of how inexperienced he is, of the way his movements are hesitant, but there’s no judgment in the way you kiss him..

That thought alone makes his head spin even more.

His brain lags behind what’s happening, like it refuses to catch up, because this can’t be real. There’s no logical explanation for why your lips are on his, why the world has gone oddly quiet around them, why the warmth blooming in his chest feels too big to contain.

His first coherent thought is something dangerously close to ''oh wow—she’s kissing me,'' followed immediately by ''no, there’s no way, this has to be a mistake''.

He almost pulls back because he’s convinced that if he moves, if he breathes too hard, the moment will vanish.

But then you laugh against his lips, a quiet, happy sound that vibrates straight through his skin, and before he can even process it, you press another quick kiss to his mouth— lighter this time, playful, unmistakably real.

His breath stutters then.

You pull back just enough to look at him, eyes bright, cheeks flushed, smiling like you’ve done exactly what you’ve been wanting to do. And for a second, Percy can’t help but think you’re glowing.

He’s still staring when you lean in again, brushing a gentle peck against his lips, and that’s when it hits him fully: This is real.

His hands, which had been hovering awkwardly at his sides like they didn’t know where they should go, finally find their way back to you, resting over your hips like he does when hugging you.

He feels his brain just learned something important in the last few seconds. He would be happy to be able to kiss you everyday from now on.

His legs feel unsteady, his heart's still pounding fast, but now there’s a dizzy kind of happiness that makes his chest ache.

You’re smiling at him like you’re proud when you pull back with your hands on his neck and your cheeks slightly flushed.

Somehow, after the wars ended and the world finally stopped trying to kill Percy every five minutes, life slowed down enough for… this.

“Absolutely not!”

Percy sat cross-legged on the floor of your cabin, arms folded, staring at the face mask in your hands as if it was a cursed artifact. His hair was pulled back with a ridiculous pink headband— one with little bunny ears that flopped forward every time he moved.

“It’s just a face mask,” you said patiently, shaking the jar. “It’s seaweed-based. You’ll love it.”

“I am part of the sea,” he argued. “I don’t need it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You literally just spent two hours in the sun.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Okay, but— counterpoint— I’m being used.”

“You’re being moisturized.”

That was how it always went.

Out there, beyond the cabin, campers still talked about him. Some thought he was a god walking among them, some thought he looked like one at least, with sharp lines and confidence.

You’d known long before anyone else bothered to really look.

Back when Percy was thirteen and perpetually scowling at the world like it had conspired against him, back when his hands were always scraped and his skin sunburned and he carried himself with a tired look, you’d seen it even when he tried to hide himself in a shell.

No one believed you then.

They laughed when you sat beside him or when you followed him after training. Some of them even rolled their eyes when you said his name sweetly.

And now— years later— you were sitting on the floor of your cabin, Percy stretched out between your legs, his back resting against you, a thin mask dotted with little sea creatures clinging to his face. His hair was pushed back with the headband he'd stolen from your own things, and the irony of it wasn’t lost on you.

The boy they’d mocked you for liking now looked like out of a myth even while sulking in your arms.

“You’re being quiet,” he said eventually, voice low, almost wary.

You didn’t answer right away. Your fingers moved, spreading moisturizer along his temples, tracing the familiar lines of his face like you were committing them to memory all over again.

He loved letting your hands touch his face.

“I’m thinking,” you said at last.

“That’s never good for me,” he murmured.

You smiled faintly. “I’m thinking about how strange it is that everyone sees it now.”

He tried to move between your legs. “Sees what?”

“You,” you replied. “How handsome you are. How easy it is for them to believe you’re unreal now.” You leaned forward, resting your chin against the crown of his head. “I saw it when no one else did., when you didn’t even see it yourself.”

There was a long pause. Camp sounds drifted in through the open window—laughter, footsteps, the quiet peace of a world no longer on the brink.

“I didn’t feel like that guy,” Percy admitted quietly. “I still don’t, sometimes.”

“I know,” you said. “You were surviving back then, too busy staying alive.”

Your hands slid down to his jaw, thumbs brushing along his cheeks. He leaned into the touch before he could stop himself and turned his head slightly, to look up at you, eyes gentle beneath the silly mask.

“And now?” he asked.

“Now,” you said, smiling, “you’re my handsome, grumpy boyfriend who actually lets me put skincare on him.”

A quiet laugh escaped him, low and breathy, as he relaxed fully against you.

But even when Percy was incredibly happy having you with him, even when only you could give him true happiness, he had his moments of doubt, the insecure kid somewhere inside of him.

Even now that you guys moved to a beautiful house outside the city.

Percy was laying half over you, skin warm, breath still uneven, curls damp against his forehead and one of his arms was wrapped tight around your waist, the other over your thigh, keeping you close.

You were both still catching your breath as he pressed a lazy kiss beneath your eye, then another to your cheek and the corner of your mouth.

Not hungry anymore but lovingly.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice lower than usual, rough in a way that made your stomach flutter and think maybe another round wasn't too much.

You nodded faintly, too boneless to form a proper answer.

He smiled against your skin at that — soft, satisfied — and kissed your jaw.

His nose brushed your temple as he repositioned himself.

“I don’t like when they look at me like that,” he said quietly.

It took you a second to catch up. Your fingers were lazily combing through his curls.

“Like what?” you asked, voice a bit rough from moaning.

“Like I just became this...” His grip tightened slightly. “Like I wasn’t… me before.”

You shifted to look at him. His lashes were low, his expression open in that way he only allowed when you were alone.

“They look at me now like I’m unreal,” he continued. “Like I woke up one day and suddenly I'm a hero out of a story.”

He huffed faintly, almost embarrassed. “You’re the only one who saw me before that.”

You brushed your thumb over his cheek. “I still see you,” you said.

There was a pause — long, intimate — the kind that is heavier when your skin is still touching everywhere.

His mouth moved slowly over your cheek again, over your jaw.

“If I’d stayed that awkward, sunburned kid…” He didn’t look at you when he said it. He was kissing along your shoulder, like he needed to ask it into your skin instead of your eyes.

“The one who didn’t know how to stand right, the one who thought he was just… tolerable.” His hand moved to your thigh, flattening there.

“Would you still have looked at me?”

It wasn’t about sex or even about beauty. It was about being wanted even without the glow. Kinda like would you still love me if I were a worm?

You tipped his chin up gently, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“I would,” your nose wrinkled faintly in a smile. “You think I started loving you when everyone else did?”

Your fingers traced the faint scar along his collarbone. “I loved you when you pretended not to care that your skin was peeling from the sun.”

A faint, breathless laugh left him.

“When you rolled your eyes and acted like I was insufferable when I gave you products for your skin.”

His forehead dropped to yours. “I wasn’t impressive,” he whispered.

“You were mine,” you corrected.

His arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you fully against his chest, burying his face against your neck like he needed to hide there for a second.

“You make me feel like I was always enough,” he said, voice muffled.

“You were,” you replied immediately.

He exhaled slowly, sniffing a little bit. “I only want you looking at me like that.”

You smiled against his hair.

“I don’t know how to look at you any other way, Perce.”

Outside, the city hummed in the distance, chaotic but here, oh well.

Inside of your house, Percy held you like a now young adult who had finally learned he didn’t have to become someone else to be loved.

He wanted to be with you forever.

There was no doubt in him when he said: “Marry me.”

♡ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

♡ 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⸝⸝ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[outromoonyy]

James mentioning his parents in front of Sirius

[diorchids]

HATE FUCK. w/ luke castellan.

u and luke hate each other, rightfully so. and that won't ever change.

“obviously i hate him! he’s a fucking dick who needs to be put in his place,” you tell dionysus, who’s throwing back a couple of beers, not listening to a thing you say. 

“sure, you do, kid. sure, you do.” 

luke castellan digs his thick cock deep into it as he gasps with his eyes screwed shut. he holds your legs apart, pushing them against the bed as he fits himself in.

“it—fuckin’ hurts! just hurry up, fucks sake!” you whisper, mouth agape and eyes on your tight hole sucking him in. he gasps softly, feeling your wet and warm pussy choke him that fast. “can’t you just—just shut the fuck up?” he says, “shut the fuck up unless you wanna get caught.” in a hushed voice.

"god… harsh fuckin' mouth you got there," he whispers, driving his hips forward deliberately harder to make you take all his length at once. your voice catches in a pained moan as he bottoms out completely. "that what you wanted? to fuckin!’ hurry?" he thrusts again roughly, coaxing a whimper out of you like magic. 

“thought you hated me, huh?” he smirks, shaking his head at your disgusting faces and sounds. 

you gain your composure and whisper, “i do hate you, castellan. y-you’re fuckin’…” 

“that why you making these stupid little noises?" he groans, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you against him, picking you up and pushing you against a wall. he starts thrusting upwards now, hitting a spot inside you that makes you go stupid. 

"you hate me?" he mutters. 

your ass slaps against his pelvis as he fucks up into you like you’re nothing more than a toy—a doll. he pumps his cock into your glistening hole, dripping in your obvious arousal. he curls his lip in a snarl, his eyes glinting with a manic light as he looks down at you. "you hate me?" he punctuates each word with a brutal thrust, making you bounce with each word. “i fuckin’ loathe you,” he whispers in your ear. he’s clearly dragging it on for his entertainment, you’re too busy taking him to even think. 

he delivers a harsh slap to your ass cheek, it stinging as you cry out. he pulls out of you to lie you back on the bed, really needing to dig into you properly. “that’s right, scream so you’ll get us caught," he snarls, grabbing your face, "tell me how much you hate this, tell me how much you hate me."

he starts slamming into you with wild abandon, the bed creaking and your body jolting with each thrust. your juices spray out onto the bed, coating the both of you as you cry, “i hate you! so—fuckin’ much, luke! can’t…”

a cruel smirk dances on luke's lips as he hears your anguished declaration. "sounds like hate feels pretty fucking good, huh?" he taunts, angling his hips to penetrate even deeper. the room echoes with the filthy, obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your cries.

he slaps his hand over your mouth to quiet you, muffling your moans. he releases your mouth briefly to let you get some air, only for you to inhale sharply before he slams his hand back over your mouth. "shut the fuck up!" he hisses, looking around quickly, his body glistening with sweat as he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

your stomach tightens as you pathetically finish, your pussy spasming around him, fluttering stupidly. 

his hand tightens over your mouth as your whimpers grow louder. he tries to hide his groans from feeling you squeeze him, but fails. he spreads your legs wider apart, watching your wet pussy milk his unprotected length. he swells inside you. he won’t stop, though, he needs to finish too!

“shit, shit, shit!" luke's eyes squeeze shut as he buries himself deep inside you, releasing his hot seed directly into your unprotected womb. he keeps his hand over your mouth, muffling your screams as he fills you with his hateful load.

you shake underneath him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he releases his load in you. he swallows hard, watching you throw your head back slightly. he realizes you're not pushing him away. instead, your nails are digging into his back. he thrusts one more time, making sure to give you every last drop of his warm cum as he groans. 

he falls on your body, limp as ever as you both speak in unison.

“i…hate you.”

[snowynns]

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍: You're like ecstasy.

♡ ﹕You need drugs after days without a hit and Luke Castellan is your salvation, however you don't have the money.

♡ ﹕Dub-Con & Dark! Luke, addictions, blowjob, high while having sex, slut shaming, fingering & frotagge, edging, PinV, creampies, breeding kink

You step into the laundromat on a Tuesday afternoon after your last class. The air smells like stale detergent and forgotten clothes, machines humming.

It's not glamorous, the spot's tucked behind a strip mall with flickering neon signs for pawn shops and taco joints, but your friend swore it's where Luke Castellan runs his side hustle.

She's the one who usually handles this— slipping in here with a wad of cash and whatever else it takes to score the stuff. But she bailed last minute, stomach bug or some bullshit, so now it's you, heart pounding, palms sweaty, pretending you know the drill.

You've never met Luke before.

All you know is what she told you: he's got a sharp jawline, a scar on one side of his face, and he doesn't do freebies. She gets discounts by dropping to her knees, working him over until he tosses in extra product like pocket change.

You're not here for that— you're desperate for the hit that's been gnawing at since last week! You need some good stuff, something that melts the edges of your shitty reality. You pat your pocket, feeling the fold of bills.

The back corner is where the dryers stack up like rusty sentinels, and there's a door half-hidden behind a vending machine stocked with off-brand chips.

You knock, three times like she said, and it creaks open. Luke Castellan stands there, leaning against the frame, wearing a faded black tee that clings to his chest and jeans slung low enough to show the V of his hips. His eyes— dark, assessing— rake over you like he's pricing merchandise.

"You're not her," he says, voice low and gravelly, you know it's not a question but you still give an answer.

"Yeah, she couldn't make it so she sent me instead for the usual strong stuff... whatever she gets." You shift your weight, clutching your hands.

Luke's gaze lingered, sizing you up. He pocketed his phone and then moved to let you in as he crossed to a row of lockers in the back.

The laundromat's owner probably didn't know about this setup, or maybe he did and looked the other way for a cut. Luke twisted a key, pulling out a small zip bag that glinted under the lights. He tossed it your way.

"Two hundred," he says, leaning against the machine.

You fumbled in your pockets, pulling out a crumpled fifty, a twenty and some change.

"This is all I have right now, I swear I'll get the rest tomorrow! Please, I need it bad, the craving is killing me." Your hands trembled, the withdrawal twisting your gut. You'd do anything for that rush, the numb oblivion that made everything better.

Luke snatched the bills, counting them with a low chuckle. "This? This buys you a candy bar, sweetheart. Strong stuff ain't cheap."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your face, smelling faintly of weed and sex. "Your friend knows the deal. Pays up front or works it off. You forget the cash, you improvise."

The itch crawled up your arms, your skin prickling. You were a junkie, yeah, and not stupid enough to walk away without that bag. Your friend had bragged about her little arrangement, half-laughing over beers: how she'd drop to her knees in the back room, sucking Luke off for a better price.

It wasn't pride keeping you standing; it was need, raw.

"Okay, fine, what she does... I can do that. Just the discount, right? For the stuff."

Luke's eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at his lips. He jerked his head toward the storage room door behind the counters, a "Staff Only" sign peeling at the edges.

"You got balls, I'll give you that. If you're half as good as she is, maybe I'll throw in extra. Come on, let's see what you're offering."

The storage room was a cramped hellhole— stacks of detergent boxes, a flickering bulb, a small table and a sagging couch that smelled like mildew.

Luke locked the door, the click echoing, and leaned back against a shelf, unzipping his jeans without fanfare.

His dick sprang free, already half-hard, thick and veined, curving slightly like it had a mind of its own. You swallowed, dropping to your knees on the gritty floor, the concrete biting through your jeans.

This wasn't about him; it was about the bag in his pocket, it was waiting for you.

"Go on," he says, voice low. "Show me why I should cut you a deal."

You leaned in, wrapping your hand around the base, feeling it twitch under your fingers. Your mouth watered despite yourself and finally slid your lips over the head, tongue flicking the slit. The taste hit salty and musky, his skin warm against your tongue as you sucked.

He groaned, fingers tangling in your hair, not gentle but not yanking yet. You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, the taste filling your mouth as you bobbed.

You worked him sloppily, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth as you bobbed, tongue swirling around the underside.

He was bigger than you'd expected, stretching your jaw, but the rhythm came easy, fueled by the promise of that hit. Your free hand braced on his thigh, feeling the muscle tense under your fingers. Saliva dripped down his shaft, slicking your palm as you stroked what you couldn't swallow, gagging softly when he pushed too far.

Luke watched, hips rocking lazily. "Look at you, drooling all over my dick like a desperate little slut. Your friend does this too, but damn, you're eager. I'm sure you're getting wet just from the taste."

The worst was that he wasn't wrong. Heat pooled between your legs, your pussy clenching against nothing as you sucked harder, the friction sending sparks to your core. But you weren't here for that— you just wanted the drugs, to make him cum quick and get out. Your clit throbbed, panties dampening, as you focused, humming around his head to push him over.

And it worked. His grip tightened, breath ragged.

"Shit, yeah— gonna cum." He pulled back just enough, stroking himself as ropes of hot cum shot into your mouth, spilling over your lips and chin. You gagged, swallowing what you could, but in the end it smeared across your pretty face, sticky and warm.

Luke grinned, using the tip of his softening cock to rub it, painting your cheeks. "Messy girl. Open up— take it all."

You did, tongue out, letting the last drops land before he tucked himself away. Your face was a wreck, mascara smearing with the evidence of your effort. standing on shaky legs, pussy aching but ignored.

"There," you said, voice hoarse. "Now the discount."

Luke chuckled, zipping up slow, like he had all day. He reached into his pocket, but instead of handing over the bag, he pulled you close by the waistband of your jeans.

"Oh, we're not done. You think a quick suck-off gets you out clean? Nah, you're better than your friend— way fucking better. I think you can get the premium."

Before you could protest, his hand slid down, cupping your ass through the denim. "Luke, I just want the drugs. That's...That's it."

"Sure you do," he murmured, voice dripping with mockery. "But look, soaked already, that pussy's begging." His fingers traced the seam of your jeans, pressing just enough to make you whimper.

You shoved at his chest, but it was half-hearted, the aftertaste of him still on your tongue fueling the fire.

"Are you really going to leave to masturbate all by yourself? I can give a better time."

He spun you around, bending you over the table, the edge digging into your hips. One hand yanked your pants and panties down in a rough tug, exposing you to the cool air. Your pussy was slick, lips swollen and glistening, clit peeking out needy. "No, Luke—stop. I—."

He ignored you, fingers ghosting over your skin— starting at your clit, circling the hard nub with a feather-light touch that made your knees buckle.

"Liar. This little cunt's dripping for it." He dragged his touch down, parting your lips, teasing the entrance without pushing in. Up to your mound, thumb pressing the soft flesh, then back, dipping just the tip of one finger inside, shallow and maddening. You gasped, hips jerking involuntarily, chasing more.

"Please," you breathed, but it came out wrong— half plea for him to stop, half for him to continue. The drugs were so close, you could resist this.

"You're grinding on my fingers like a bitch in heat. Bet you'd beg for my cock if I made you wait."

Luke chuckled, free hand fishing a small baggie from his pocket—the strong stuff, premium grade.

"Need this more, don't you?" He opened it, holding some crystallized thing between his fingers to your lips. "Open up. It'll make you feel real good."

You shook your head, but Gods, you needed it, couldn't go any longer without drugs, and like that you parted your lips.

It hit your tongue, bitter. It rushed through you, your skin tingling, some wetness flooding out. You were happy to finally be able to consume. "Fuck... what is that?"

"Ecstasy. You're going to love this."

"Wait," you breathed, but your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. He pushed two fingers then, curling against that soft spot inside you. He pumped slowly, thumb on your clit, building you up fast— too fast. Your breath hitched, orgasm coiling tight, but just as you teetered on the edge, he pulled out, leaving you clenching around nothing.

"Fuck—please," you gasped, hating yourself.

"Please what? You told me to wait." He smirked, fingers glistening as he brought them to your lips, making you taste yourself.

"I think I could become obsessed with this mouth, you know how to suck damn well." His fingers passed your lips, pushing until they reached your throat, making you gag a little.

Then he was back, tracing your mound, dipping to your entrance but not entering, teasing until you were grinding against his hand and biting your lip to stifle a moan, it was relentless, thumb pressing your clit while his fingers pumped.

Just so you were edged again, the fingers thrusting deep, your walls fluttering, so close— then nothing as he pulled out once more. You were a mess, panting, thighs slick and trembling just like a newborn deer.

Luke stepped back, his dick stirring back to life in his pants.

He freed it again, still semi-soft, and rubbed the tip against your exposed pussy, wetting it with your arousal. The blunt head nudged your clit, then slid along your lips, parting them but never pushing in. "Feel that? Just the tip."

Wet sounds followed, your arousal was coating him, making him twitch and harden inch by inch. He pushed in just the head— bare, hot and promising— then pulled out, the drag making you sob.

"No— a condom, at least," you managed, voice breaking, you were dizzy as he kept pressing the tip inside, stretching you slightly, then pulled out, rubbing the length along your slit.

"Condom? For a junkie who forgot the money? You probably forgot it on purpose. So now, you pay with this pussy." He kept doing the motion until he hardened fully, the soft slide turning insistent, your hips bucking to chase it. You were lost, a poor addict reduced to whimpers that didn't even notice he had turned you around making your back press against the wood.

"Look at this greedy cunt, kissing my cock like she owns it. I think the drug is making effect."

"Uh?"

With a thrust, he was inside, bare and deep, stretching you wide. You cried out, the curve of him hitting just right, veins dragging against your walls. He hugged your hips close, pulling you onto him, the table scraping across the floor with each slam.

"Fuck— no, wait ah.." you gasped, but your legs wrapped around him, your body was chasing his.

He fucked you hard, deep, every inch was perfect— the slight upward bend kissing spots that no one else got to before. He was relentless, hips snapping, turning you into a drooling mess on the table, tits bouncing a little.

"You're better than her," he growled, breath hot on your neck. "Suck like a pro, take dick like you were born for it. You're a big slut." He denigrated you with every thrust— calling you stupid, worthless without your fix— but then he'd grind slow, letting his cock soothe your aching pussy, passing over every sensitive inch like a lover would do.

It was maddening, the mix of filth and that dark affection, making you clench around him and it made you a mess— drool slipping from your open mouth, eyes rolling back as he pounded deep.

"More... fuck, more, Luke— please!" It spilled out over and over, cries echoing off the walls, the drugs amplifying every thrust until you were sobbing for it. His cock was perfect, ruining you just right, hips snapping to make the table bang.

You were close, so close from all the edging, and he knew it. "Gonna fill you up. No pulling out for whores like you."

He pulled out suddenly, rubbing the head against your clit,before entering again and making you cry, your make-up was messed up since you sucked him off but now you looked just pathetic.

"I will end up pregnant, don't—" You begged, but your body betrayed you, nails digging into his back, pussy pushing down to meet every stroke, clenching to milk him.

"Too late, slut." He slammed in, flooding you— hot, thick ropes painting your insides. You shattered, the teasing from before exploding into a hard orgasm, squirting around him, soaking his thighs. Waves crashed, leaving you trembling, cum already dripping down your legs.

He didn't stop, fucking his cum deeper, the table groaning under the force. But when he finally pulled out, you were wrecked— pussy puffy and red, his seed dripping down your thighs in thick rivulets. Your hand moved on instinct— fingers sliding over your swollen cunt, dipping into the mess.

The touch alone sparked something.

"Fuck that," he muttered, flipping you onto your stomach over the table. He slapped your overstimulated cunt— a sharp sting that made you yelp. His fingers coated in your release and his, he pushed them in alongside his cock as he thrust back inside, rougher now.

You came again, harder, body surrendering as he emptied into you once more, the overflow leaking out with every withdraw. By the time he pulled out for good, you were boneless, high and sated, the drugs and the sex leaving you floating.

Luke zipped up, tossing the full baggie to the table. "There. Premium, like I said." He smirked, but there was a softness in how he helped you up, Luke didn't kick you out. He knelt, wiping you clean with a rag from the shelf and cleaning your defeated make-up.

He could be gentle.

"You're a mess," he says finally. "Better than I expected. I'll give you a joint too; it's on me this time. Come back next week— properly with cash. Door's open."

You nodded, pulling up your pants.

Walking out of that laundromat, bag in the pocket, you felt something weird— not just the high you were going through, but a pull.

Luke Castellan was probably the best dealer; trouble you might chase. And fuck, after that, you were already planning the next "forgetful" visit.

Who needed money when the payoff felt this good?

♡ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

♡ 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⸝⸝ 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[ladylove381]

Save a horse Ride a cowboy- Carter Dutton

Summary: She saw him walk into class for the first time with a hat on, a button up flannel and cow boy boots with a matching belt buckle and she knew she was going to do whatever she could to make sure she rode him with that hat on top of her pretty little head. But the poor thing was so afraid of the constant rejection that he thought she was in his house on his bed asking him to have sex with her as a ruse to humiliate him even more than they do at school. Little did he know she was so desperate she would go to extreme measures just to have him.

warnings: cursing, ⋆˙⟡ warnings sex 18+, p in v, riding, possessive and jealous, dirty talk, pussy eating, implications of a unprotected sex

"Please, I swear I wasn't apart of that group of girls that messed with you at the beginning of the year. I just wanted you so bad I practically begged the teacher to let me tutor you just so I could get you alone to myself."

"You want me?" The mistrust in his eyes evident.

"Are you kidding? I swear I've been holding myself back from throwing myself at you, and then I saw you ride that horse with your dad ripp the other day and I swear I had to sit in soaked panties all day while teaching you geometry. It was hell." You were on your knees on his bed after he moved away from you when you tried to kiss him.

He stood far away with his hands up in surrender and a nervous stutter "look I don't know but I-I." He cleared his throat and in that moment I realized how it looked from his perspective. A pretty girl shows an uneasy amount of interest in him the moment he moves to a small town. But if he knew that I had been getting myself off on just the thought of him. I would cum so hard just thinking about how he would say "Good mornin'." And tip his hat in my direction as he would sit down right next to me.

So Before he started to stutter and fumble some more at the thought that this was some way I was going to humiliate him I decided to show him exactly how serious I was about wanting him. If anyone was going to be humiliated tonight it is going to be me being desperate to get laid. And I am VERY desperate.

If I had time to be slow and subtle I would be but I don't have the time today. So I yanked my shirt over my head before he could complete his sentence. "Listen you might think this is a funny joke but it isn't funny for m-." Shirt off, bra tossed to whatever corner I'll find it at later. I sit on the bed with my tits out and and a sheepish smile on my face.

"Do I look like I'm joking Carter? I like you, I really do. And I'm not afraid to say that I want you." I crawl towards the end of the bed and reach my hand out to Carter. "It's just me and you, and you're a bit overdressed. If you take your shirt off I'll take my pants off?"

You could see the dam in his head cracking. He wanted to give in but I knew about all the stuff those girls did to mess with him? Why? I'll never know. But they messed with his emotions and now All I want is for him to be balls deep inside me and he's standing scared like a virgin. What if I can't convince him. What if he doesn't even want me and I really just humiliated myself? He's my friend and I should have never crossed these boundaries.

The sudden realization that he was standing so far away made my stomach churn. Feeling suddenly so insecure I covered my chest with my arms and look anywhere but at Carter and his dazzling blue eyes.

"Look I'm sorry, Maybe I shouldn't have done this. I don't know what came over me I just- I'm sorry. I'll get dressed and I'll leave and we don't have to talk about-" what he said next made my head practically spin.

"Take your pants off then if this isn't a joke." If I knew that the Deer caught in head lights look I had made him extremely hard then I wouldn't have second guessed myself.

"If you are really willing to take this joke that far then take your underwear off too." He soon realized that this was no joke. He was standing there cock throbbing while the most beautiful girl he's ever seen sits on his bed begging for his attention. If this wasn't some sick joke then this had to be heaven. There was no other way this could be real.

Pants off and discarded I turn my back towards him, I know if I do this right I'll be every boys wet dream. Gently tossing my hair over my shoulder and looking back at him as I hook my fingers in my pink panties taking them off and toss them back at him.

Seconds before his eyes were a bright blue but they darkened as Carter slowly unbuttoned his flannel. I could cum right now looking at him standing there so tall and handsome in a rugged wayy. Just like in my fantasies he was very fit, after all he was a cowboy. I couldn't help but rake my eyes down to the patch of dark hair that led further down. It was a happy trail I was willing to go down.

"Carter I love your belt buckle but It's kind of in the way of what I want. So if you could please take your belt off." His eyes still have a bit of worry but how can he question my intentions when I'm quite literally bare before him.

I can't even be patient because once he has his belt off I pull him close and I unzip his pants. Carter funny enough doesn't seem to understand how or why I'm more excited than him.

Soon his lips meet mine with a desperate passion. Tongues dancing in a foreign way slowly but surely finding a passionate rhythm. His kisses distract me so much that I didn't feel his cock slap on my thigh until I let go of our embrace for a desperate set of breaths.

Despite fighting the urge to not look down I instantly and shamelessly looked. Once I see his dick spring back and hit his belly I know that riding this cowboy will give me saddle sores. If not sores then I can guarantee that I won't be able to walk for a week. How dare he feel shy and embarrassed. Carter doesn't even know it yet but he's bigger than any toy I've ever used on my self. Not to mention the LENGTH, dear God I've died and gone to heaven.

With a smile on my face I watch as he nervously struggles out of his pants and I begin to feel less naked. Once his struggle with his pants are over he looks at me so fucking needing. So desperate yet vulnerable. So afraid that this is a joke but trust me when I tell you that cant be further from the truth. So I kiss him so roughly at first but can't help slow down gently to give the poor boy a chance.

Before I know what is happening he slips his tongue in my mouth and I cant help but feel relieved. It's a tongue in my mouth now but if I have my way in the next few minutes it'll be his tongue in my cunt. I need to play my cards right. I refuse to surrender, Before the day ends I will fuck Carter Dutton.

Slowly I begin to kiss down his jaw, hearing his breath hitch and his whimpers as I go further down his chest leaving gentle kisses. The lower I go the more tongue I use as I kiss my way down his lower belly. Exactly where I want to be. Is it manipulative if I look up at him with pretty fuck me eyes? Well then call me manipulative because behind hooded lashes I lick a stripe up the side of his cock while looking him dead in the eye after my tongue reached the tip. His pre cum was salty but tasted so fucking good in a sinful way.

If you could pinpoint love in one look trust me when I tell you I might have sucked my way to his heart. Hearing him breathe desperately makes me so fucking wet I could die. He was 10 inches hard with a very thick girth but I refuse to be a quitter. So I hallowed my cheeks and bobbed on his length while constantly stroking him and sucking on his pretty pink head.

He looked slightly shameful and scandalized when he finished in my mouth with a very breathy moan and was quickly replaced with his head falling back and his Adams apple bobbing followed by a very deep animalistic groan.

But this boy is so fucking sweet because seconds after he catches his breath he asks "Is it your turn now? Please I really want to bury my face in your pussy.".

Out of breath and only seconds after an orgasm yet here he is eagerly wanting to return the favor. A true gentleman but still I wanted to tease him so I asked if he wanted it to be my turn or his again. A glimmer of mischief shines in my eyes because his answer surprised me. Pulling me up with him he turns us so he switches our spots on the bed. "I would love to eat your pussy if you'll let me, ma'am." Oh god he lasted a long time I need to breath so I don't finish that fast. God I'm desperate but he doesn't need to know that.

He didn't get the chance to eat my pussy right away because I couldn't help but kiss him, it was such an erotic fucking kiss because there was so much tongue. In between kisses our noses would brush so sensually it made wanting him feel like the right choice. I will remember this moment for a long fucking time.

Before long Carter buried his face in my cunt as I buried my face into the sheets, hands gripping the blanket so tight I could swear I was ripping his sheets.

"Oh god Carter please! Yes. Ahhhhhhh!"

I have no idea who taught Carter to eat pussy but they need to be praised for the rest of their lives. His nose was practically shoved in me while he sucked on my clit. Breathing isn't an option at this point, I'm afraid I was not prepared to be pleased in such a manner. He had a torturing method of rhythm where he alternated between licking my clit back and forth and sucking on it. My ass is arched up for him and I'm grateful because my face down on the bed hides my tears of frustration because I genuinely can't control my breath or control my orgasm. Or should I say orgasms!

I look back and I break, the burning feeling in the depths of my stomach I was trying to control burst. Whining and crying was an understatement because when I locked eyes with Carter and he pulled me back further into his face I came instantly. The neighbors 30 acres away could hear most likely hear me cumming on this boys face.

"oh god, Carter please! I can't! No more ahhhhhhh!!! Uuuuummmmmmm please Carterrr!!! Oh GOD YESSS!!!!" But he didn't give a single fuck. I came into his home, used his bad grades to get close to him and bring down his walls to let me in, all for the selfish intention of solely being fucked by him. And I haven't even been fucked properly yet here he has me begging him not to overstimulate me. Well mission fucking accomplished.

Still he refused let me go like an animal with a bone. I swear he growled as he pulled me firmly back to meet his face. His licks became less erratic as did my breathing. But he still lapped at my pussy like a puppy in a bowl of milk. Making me trust his intentions of slowly bringing me back down to earth as he spread gentle kisses on my inner thighs until he plunged 2 fingers into my folds. In and out with swift motions then slowly before speeding up once again only to pull his fingers out and sucked on them. And here I am still on my knees with my ass up and face down. I want this so bad and now that I'm here i want it to last forever.

It feels like this moment last forever but not long enough when I hear "Are you ready?".

Am I ready? I've never wanted anything more in my life. I feel his soft warm head coating itself in my slick before he slowly pushes his way in. Such a gentleman, I just know he'll give me whatever I want, however I want. And I want him to bottom out and he fills me so slowly I adjust and breathe through it but he still knocks my breath out the second he slowly pulls out and shoves himself back in while bottoming out entirely. Hearing the gush of my pussy as he shoved himself back in me has my eyes fucking ROLLING BACK.

I reach my hand back for some fucking reason unknown to me. My palm reaches his lower belly before Carter grabs my wrist to get a better hold on me. In an erotic rhythm he continues to thrust in and out of me while holding me by my arm as leverage. I can't help it as I bounce my ass back to match his rhythm. No, I want see his face when I cum. Correction; I want to see his face when I make him cum.

"Wait, please stop." And he immediately stops. Searching for my eyes to see if I was okay. I honestly don't even want to imagine what I look like from his point of view but by the look in his eyes I know It's a view to behold so I rein in my insecurities.

"I want to be on top, please." My chest is still heaving from being fucked so deliciously. I move back and pull him towards me before roughly slamming him onto the bed smothering his chest with wet kisses. Throwing my leg over is waist and placing myself perfectly on Carter mounting my cowboy. Carter pulls me up closer by my waist and I feel his cock throb underneath me. Breasts pressed tightly against his chest as he meets my mouth in a passionate heated rivalry. Fighting for Dominance with every kiss and his tongue manages to win, giving him the lead.

He halts our kiss to focus his attention and rough kisses on my chest leaving marks all over, I'm going to need to wear shirts to cover up the marks he is making. Fuck, he's marking me up and I know I should tell him not to or to keep it limited to collar bone down but the second his lips go to my neck I moan like a whore. Did he Just lick up my neck? Fuck this is the best day of my life.

"Put yourself back in, now! I can't wait. I've waited long enough please." Tears pool in my eyes due to the overstimulated wherever it be sexual or emotional.

"Oh yeah, and how long has that been?" He mocks and I swear he got cocky with just a couple thrust in my pussy.

"Please, you didn't even want to fuck me like 30 minutes ago !" God now I'm begging like I said I would, what a fucking prediction!

He reaches down and slowly rubs the head of his cock up and down my folds and when I try to sit on it he denies me, that bastard.

"I said tell me how long you've been wanting to fuck me? Answer and you can ride me into the sunset like a happy ending." Blue eyes are a gift from God to everyone but teenage girls. I might as well be whining like a bitch begging because I'm literally willing to spill my guts just to sit on his dick.

"You walked in math Class with that fucking hat on and boots on with that fucking belt buckle all goofy looking. And that was the moment I knew I had to have you. And it got even harder to get close to you after that stunt those bitches pulled. But my dedication got me something didn't it? So please shove your dick inside me and make me cum. Please!" His eyes held that vulnerable look in the beginning quickly followed by that dark lust before he finally liked himself up properly and I slowly pounded myself down. The feeling of fullness was absolutely addicting. My hands found his face to pull him in for a tender kiss that matched the pace I bounced.

If I wanted too I could reach my hand down and rub my clit furiously to cum and I could do it in an instant looking down at Carter. The thing that stopped me from doing that was the hot burning feeling in my stomach that felt foreign, nothing like the toys I've used to achieve a personal orgasm. But this orgasm was fucking mind blowing. He wrapped his arms roughly around my waist to pick me up and slam me down onto him forcing his own pace building up his own high.

Fingers in his hair and my head thrown back while his mouth attacks my neck as we cum so hard together you could swear all the house could hear was the sounds of loud moans and a scream in pleasure.

"Oh god you're so fucking beautiful keep going!" Sounds of wet skin slapping shamelessly followed my moans that I can't hold in for shit.

"Carter please don't stop! Right there! Yes! Yes! Yes!yes!! Ahhhhhhh goddd Carter!!!"

If I had known his parents got home and had come in the house to hear me begging I would have never gave those last few bounces my ALL. Who am I kidding? Yes I would have, it was fucking worth the humiliation.

"oh god Carter." In the room it's silent except the sounds of heavy breath as I stay sitting on him, chest to chest and nose to nose. I leave a gentle peck on his head and meet his eyes. Forehead full of sweat, eyes dilated and lips swollen. God it's a sight to fucking behold.

Like the cherry on top of the best day ever we hear a set of rythmic clicks suddenly, unsure of what the sounds is we lock eyes and instantly fly away from each other.

Beth is home.

I grab the sheet of the bed and fling myself on the side of the bed you can't see when you walk into the room. Carter panics before the door opens and he grabs a pillow to cover his lower half right as the door opens. My heart drops, dear God I thought there was time for me to fuck his brains out before they came home.

"Boy, what in God's name are you doing in here and with who?" Fuck it's his dad! Fuck he's scary but I thought I heard Beth's heels.

Rip and beth see a pink bra and pair of panties at the foot of Carter's bed along with 2 notebooks and a math book and share a knowing look.

"oh uhm nothing, no one." Fucking smooth Carter, I'm literally naked with my thighs coated in his cum hiding on the side of his bed as he stands naked with only a pillow covering his dick.

Fuck it, I've been bold today, what's being a little more bold. So I sit up, curls all over the place exactly like how you'd imagine sex hair.

"We were kinda in the middle of exactly what you think we were doing. My apologies for the excessive volume." Dear God The tension in the room could be cut with a butter knife.

Ripp rubs his forehead like a tired dad and just looks at Beth like "you're dealing with this." And she did.

"Well you and your TUTOR need to get dressed. Dinner is on the table. Take out." With that they retreat and close the door behind them. Carter and I lock eyes and I cover my mouth and giggle. That was such a fucking situation to be in wow.

"OH and wash your hands!" Beth had yelled after walking down the hallway. All I could do was laugh when I looked into Carters eyes.

"Next time can I wear your hat?" The wild look of disbelief crossed his face.

"There's gonna be a next time?" He arches a brow.

"only if you do that thing with your tongue again, fuck that made my head spin." A deep chuckle resonates in his chest.

"Let's go sit down and eat, fuck this better not be weird." Little did he know the first question that would be asked of us was if we used protection. Poor Carter, I'm in heaven and this kid is being tortured mercilessly.

[redmoononvenus222]

𝐒𝐢𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓, 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 18+

Dinner in the Great Hall is as usual; the boys are cracking all kinds of jokes and snickering, whereas the girls keep up with the latest gossip roaming the corridors. Every so often, the conversation between the girls and the boys intertwines.

“Oi, ever wonder if Trelawney keeps those jam jar frames on her face while visiting down under?”

Lorenzo Berkshire speaks lowly to the lot with a smirk on his face— his elbows resting on top of the wooden table. A few snickers could be heard from Mattheo and Blaise— whereas the girls looked at Enzo with pure horror and disgust. Pansy’s fork dropped on the ceramic plate beneath her with a sharp clutter, and Daphne’s face scrunching up with repulsion.

“Don’t be so lewd, Berkshire.”

You spoke coolly with a scoff as you shook your head at his comment. This just made Enzo’s smirk widen— he was the prince of shocking the lot with his comments.

“Basta, Berkshire.” (Enough, Berkshire.)

Theodore Nott intercepted the conversation lowly as he cut a piece of roast with his silverware. Lorenzo just smirked as the conversation diverted to an entirely different and unrelated topic.

As dinner concluded, you were first to stalk off and out of the Great Hall with unwavering poise as the girls followed behind you, leaving the boys at the table as the rest of the hall filed out and headed to their common rooms.

“And off she goes…dazzling as always. Wouldn’t you agree, Nott?

Mattheo spoke up abruptly as he watched you leaving the Hall with predatory eyes. Theodore let out a scoff. The tension between you and Theodore was absolute— no one understood why you two couldn’t get along, though the lot always suspected a hint of…sexual tension between you two, even if it wasn’t spoken of as fact— it was definitely obvious.

“Vaffanculo.” (Go fuck yourself.)

Theodore retorted sharply— Mattheo, Lorenzo, and Blaise all shared amused glances.

“Touchy, touchy.”

Blaise purred out with a grin that flashed his teeth in the golden light of the Great Hall.

The corridors were bustling with students who exited the Great Hall. You, Pansy, and Daphne walked in the direction of the dungeons with an unwavering grace.

In the dim Slytherin common room, the boys sat in their usual claimed seats; Blaise on the leather sofa between Pansy and Mattheo. Lorenzo, sitting in a secluded corner of the room with a book in hand—the words on the pages not being absorbed —was solemnly there for the ‘show’. And Daphne off with her sister Astoria.

Theodore sat at a study table beside the window as he completed an essay for Charms class— your notes beside the parchment he worked on. It wasn’t abnormal for him, or anyone else for that matter, to borrow your notes. You excelled highly in your studies, and always let your peers use your notes for their benefit. A couple of minutes of utter silence followed, but was suddenly broken when you descended from the girls’ dormitories and into the common room.

You gracefully made your way towards Theodore—your steps carefully, and poise, as usual.

“I assume you haven't completed your essay, Nott?”

You spoke calmly as you stood beside him, your eyes watching as his hands gripped the self-inking quill he used to take precise notes. His hand stilled for a moment— his large and strong grip on the quill tightening a fraction.

“Obviously.”

He spoke in a low, husky tone. His Italian accent hits you with a jolt of heat.

“I didn’t ask for your attitude. Remember, those are my notes, which I don’t have to lend to you.”

You spoke lowly with a scoff, as you then turned on your heel and made your way over towards the staircase.

“I expect them back tonight, Nott.”

You spoke over your shoulder with finality as you then ascended the steps.

“Stronza” (bitch)

Theodore muttered under his breath, his eyes kept firmly on his parchment as he continued his essay. His fingers gripped tightly around the quill, and his knuckles were white from the grip.

“Asshole.”

You muttered under your own breath as you ascended the steps. As you reached your empty dormitory, you changed into a simple, muted olive-green silk short nightgown—with a matching sheer robe as a cover-up. You tied your hair up, preparing for bed, and then began massaging your signature scented body oil onto your smooth arms and legs.

As you worked through the muscles of your calf, a low, almost hesitant knock was heard from the oak-wood door.

“You decent?”

The familiar Italian accent was even deeper as it carried through the wood. You stood up gracefully and made your way towards the door.

There he stood— Theodore Nott. His chocolate colored hair rumpled over his forehead as his eyes sized you up and down, your notes in hand.

“You’re getting drool on my notes, Nott.”

You spoke with a small knowing smirk as he snapped back to reality and rolled his beautiful blue irises with a scoff. He then held out your notes towards you.

“Take them before I change my mind and use them for the upcoming exam.”

He spoke, trying to ease the tension in the air. Theodore watched as your soft, delicate hand— or so he’s imagined countless times— came to take the small pile of elegantly scripted notes.

“You can leave now.”

You spoke casually as you took a singular step back inside your dormitory. The only light comes from a singular candle beside your four-poster bed. The silk Slytherin-colored sheets and the curtains that hung over the mattress, tied back with a velvet black bow on either side.

“Are you listening? Nott?”

Your voice, which came out naturally soft and cool, made Theodore take a step forward into your dormitory. He nodded slowly as his eyes roamed your body up and down— his head tilting ever so slightly. The look in his eyes makes the heat between your thighs grow hotter.

“You always wear something like that for bed, hm?”

He asked lowly, his tone dark and filled with noticeable desire. He took an uninvited step into your dormitory, the door behind him shutting as if it felt the tension in the room fill.

“Theodore. You’re being completely unethical.”

You spoke softly as you took another step back. He knew exactly what he was doing to you— every look he gave you was more and more revealing of his intentions.

“Forse lo sono.” (Maybe I am.)

He responded with a low rumble of a chuckle that came deeply from his chest. His hand gently came up to take your chin— his touch warm and soft as his fingers caressed your jawline.

“Nott…you’re touching me.”

You spoke under your breath as your body involuntarily began to give into his touch. He hummed out deeply as his eyes devoured your lips, followed by his hand that roamed lower— wrapping around your throat. His thumb pressing ever so slightly against your pulse point—now he definitely had a clear idea of how much you anticipated this touch.

“This could be utterly disastrous…”

You murmured as you watched his eyes roam down to your silk-covered breasts— your peaks pebbling under his gaze.

“disastrosa…”

He repeated your words under his breath in his native language. His grip on your throat was losing its hold as it began to trail lower— his finger tips running over your collar bones.

“Your advances are abysmal, Nott.”

You spoke breathlessly as your head tilted to the side— allowing him better access to your naked neck. In that very moment, his lips found their way against the cervical region of your neck.

“Is that so?”

He spoke softly against your warm and pulsing skin as he kissed gently — his fingers working their way to drop the sheer robe from off your shoulders and pooling to the ground around your feet. You hummed quietly in agreement— the clean and neatly organized notes that were in your hand fluttering to the wooden floors of your dormitory and scattering around both of you. Your hands are now free of anything grounding you from making any rational decisions, and now, you are pulling him closer by his soft curls.

“Nott…”

Your words were hitched and broken as he nipped slightly against your sensitive skin— causing a soft hiss to escape between your teeth.

“Sì, Principessa. Continua a parlare.” (Yes, princess. Keep talking.)

He spoke against you as a low rumble escaped him. His unfamiliar words make your body grow hotter, and your knees feel weak. The back of your knees hit the edge of the silk-covered mattress.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Nott.”

Your words came out in a soft moan as he slowly and gently leaned you back against your mattress.

“Mmm…”

He hummed lowly as one hand of his ran up your smooth and sleek leg— pulling it up onto the bed as the other massaged your left breast through the silk of your nightgown. Your other leg followed the first onto the bed as Theodore settled his body over and between your hips. His erection presses firmly against your now sopping core.

“Sei così bella.” (You are beautiful.)

Theodore’s fingers moved from your breast to the thin strap of your nightgown— pulling the strap lower to expose your shoulder before doing the same to the opposite side. Your hands released the grasp from his curls as they gently brought his face higher from your neck to your lips.

“You’re mental…absolutely…and utterly mental.”

You breathed out as you pulled his lips onto yours—the room filled with the sound of your lips perfectly fitting against his. The kiss was nothing but filthy— sloppy, rough, and with pent-up starvation. A low groan from him vibrated against your lips as he pressed harsher against you.

Theodore arose from the mattress— his lips still attached to yours as his fingers fumbled over the buttons of his uniform. Theodore groaned in frustration as one of the stray buttons refused to come undone. But you were just as eager as he himself— your hands moved from his face down to the fly front of his shirt, hooking your fingers on the half-button tailored shirt. The four remaining perfectly fitted buttons were now scattered around the room— flying only Merlin knows where.

This action of yours only made the desire in Theodore’s eyes grow stronger. His dilated pupils now swallow his blue irises. He pulled away from the kiss momentarily as he looked down at you— the string of saliva from the kiss was the only thing keeping you two connected. He slipped the remains of the white fabric from his shoulders—leaving his upper body completely bare. As his hands traveled down to work on his belt, your hand halted this action without hesitation.

“Is this okay?”

He asked in a low whisper as he looked down at you. And judging by the way you looked up at him, it was more than okay. You looked up at him through your eyelashes with an innocent nod.

“More than.”

You whispered as you propped yourself up and knelt before him at the edge of the bed. You gently moved his hand from where they planted over his belt buckle, your movements slow as you lowered your head before his clothed erection. You leaned forward— your eyes looking up at his doe-like and through your eyelashes. Your lips pressed softly against his lower abdomen before you kissed lower.

Your lips were now met with the cold metal of his belt buckle, your teeth grazing against the leather of his belt as you bit it undone.

“Cazzo” (fuck)

Theodore groaned lowly as he watched from above you. With ease, the leather slipped from the buckle, and then you pulled it through the loops of his trousers. Your fingers gently pulling the button open— his black trousers now slipping down, leaving him in his fitted boxer shorts that made his erection more pronounced before you.

You feel your mouth instantly water at the sight— your lips kissing his clothed erection. From above, you heard all sorts of whimpers and hisses from Theodore, his body tensing up from the soft and delicate pressure of your lips.

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxer shorts— pulling them down slowly—the sight and sound of him springing out and hitting the spot where his navel laid was enough to make your eyes roll back. Your tongue tracing a long lick along his vein-covered pink shaft— Theodore let out a low grumble that came deep from his chest, his hand coming up to hold himself against one of the posts of your bed frame.

“Sì, sì. Proprio così.” (Yes, yes. Like that.)

The sounds of his breathless praise gave you more confidence as you flicked your tongue against his frenulum— this action caused Theodore’s knees to buckle. After a few teasing licks, you finally took him deeply into your mouth—the taste uniquely him— clean, salty, and absolutely delicious.

You quickened your pace— your throat taking him deeper as his free hand came to tangle itself into your tied back hair— not to guide nor push deeper, but more so, to ground himself, to remind him that this was real. That you were real.

“Dio mio…” (my God)

“You’re perfect.”

“You take me so fucking deep…so fucking well…”

His words jumbled together as your nose pressed against his abdomen. Your mouth was a wet and sopping mess as your hand came up to massage his lonely testicles. His groans and words grew louder as his hips involuntarily buckled forward, going deeper and deeper.

“Cristo…Ci sono quasi…” (Christ…I’m almost there)

Theodore’s hands came to brace himself on your shoulders as a sharp intake of breath entered his lungs— his warm and bitter— but oh so delicious taste filled your mouth. You didn’t need to be told twice- or even once to drink him up.

“Perfect…you’re perfect…”

He panted out softly as his knees dropped to the edge of the bed and his hands cradled your face— his eyes seeing the water that had formed in your eyes.

“Please…please let me have you…”

He pleaded with a pained whisper— your breathing ragged as you opened your mouth to speak, when suddenly his lips pressed harshly against yours. His hands were now in your hair, as he leaned you back against the cool silk-covered mattress.

“bellissima” (beautiful)

His words were a soft murmur against your lips as your hands reached between your bodies to pump his size back to life, which didn’t need much help.

“Have me. Have all of me, Theodore.”

You whispered as you graciously widened your thighs— an invitation that made Theodore’s eyes roll back with triumph. He looked down at you as if you were the best gift he had ever received— if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under.

Your hand that pumped him back to life softly came up to cup his cheek— his sensitive throbbing tip grazing over the damp thin fabric of your lace panties. His breathing hitched with every soft and electric graze.

“Please…”

He panted out— his eyes squeezed tight as his grasp in your hair tightened in an euphoric and deliciously painful hold.

You, at a complete loss for words, nodded your head gently. Your hands gently and slowly holding his shoulders. When his eyes opened and were met with your gentle nods, he moved one of his hands from your hair to pull the damp lace aside. Before pushing in, he made sure to pull your nightgown up— revealing your lower body. His eyes practically devouring the way you looked beneath him.

He looked down between your bodies— where his tip practically vibrated with need and your core clenching, trying to receive pleasure from anything and nothing in this excruciatingly empty moment. A choke— almost sob escaped Theodore as he pressed himself against you, not yet burrowing into you but savoring the moment.

“Theo…”

You spoke breathlessly as you felt the pressure of his thickness push into your tightness— a gasp escaped your lips as a wince escaped his. His fingers curling into your hair, whereas the other hand fisted into the silk fabric that clung to your upper body.

His movements start slow and soft— your back arching from up the mattress beneath you.

“Cazzo…cazzo…”

He panted out as he fought back the urge to take you completely and utterly. After a second of adjusting to the sudden fullness inside of you, his pace began to quicken—the room filled by the sounds of your meeting, and filthy words.

“Così stretto” (so tight)

His voice was a mix between a growl and whimpers that were nothing but music to your ears. Your hands holding onto his shoulders for stability as your legs wrapped around his waist— pulling him deeper, and deeper.

Your climax was approaching— you could feel it by the way your stomach was now churning, the soles of your feet burning with heat as his hips snapping forward with every punishing thrust. A soundless moan tore from your vocal cords as your nails dug into the soft skin of his broad shoulders.

A hiss escaped his teeth as the mix of pain and pleasure from your nails made his body shiver completely— but what was completely undoing for Theodore was the feeling of the way your core tightened around him like a vice— milking every last drop of him inside of your warm, wet, and spongy walls.

“Have I succeeded in my advances?”

He spoke softly after minutes of shared ragged breaths, his broad and husky Italian accent that could easily push you over another climax pulled you from a dazed trance like state as he looked up at you with those dazzling blue eyes— a faint smug smirk on his lips.

“You’re a real piece of art, Theodore. Truly.”

You responded lowly, with a faint grin, that you refused—but ultimately gave him, as he then pressed a gentle kiss upon your slick forehead.

Hello my little lambs, I sincerely apologize for the late story— but hey, better late than never. I do hope you enjoy my very first smut post, honestly I was putting this off for sometime and proofreading it countless of times for you all. Thus, I do want to thank you all so much for the love on my last story! I truly appreciate it! I hope you all have the most fantastic rest of your week, and if you have any suggestions, and or themes (such as characters, tropes, ect.) I’d be more than happy to deliver.

With much love,

Xoxo- redmoononvenus

[gigichbx]

how about percy and reader getting caught by the others while fucking on the argo? 👀

Caught (Oh gods)

Pairing!: Percy Jackson x F!reader TW: Explicit Sexual Content/ Degradation/ Overstimulation / Public Indecency / Humiliation (accidental) A/N: I mean ofc it had to be him.

The air in the cramped cabin was thick enough to choke on, heavy with the scent of salt air, sweat, and the unmistakable, musk-heavy tang of a long, desperate session of sex.

On the narrow bunk, the only sound was the rhythmic, wet slap of skin meeting skin and the jagged, hitching breaths of two people completely lost in a primal rhythm.

Percy had you pinned against the mattress, his hands locked like iron shackles under your thighs to hold you wide for him.

His knuckles were white, his biceps bulging with the effort of keeping his massive frame steady as he worked you. Every thrust was deep and deliberate, a punishingly slow grind that forced you to arch your back until your spine nearly snapped. He was a force of nature, all hard muscle and tan skin, his hair a wild mess that tickled your forehead every time he leaned down to growl into your ear.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that made your bones ache. "Stretching for me. Taking every fucking inch like you were made for it."

He wasn't being gentle; the soft-spoken hero was gone, replaced by something ancient and hungry. He shifted his grip, one hand moving from your leg to your hair, winding the strands around his fist and tugging your head back to expose your throat.

"Percy," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders, nails drawing faint red crescents in his skin. Your head tossed back against the pillow, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he hit your cervix with a force that sent a spark of pure electricity straight to your core. "Oh gods, Percy."

"Shh," he commanded, the sound more of a bite than a shush. He leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. "Just take it. Be a good little mess for me."

The degradation hit you harder than the physical sensation, making your core clench around him in a desperate, needy pulse. He felt it—he felt everything—and he rewarded the reaction with a sharp, stinging crack of his palm against your butt cheek. The sound echoed in the small room, the sudden bloom of heat on your skin making you cry out.

"Again," he muttered, his eyes dark and predatory as he watched the red mark blossom on your skin. Crack. Another hit, followed immediately by him slamming back into you, filling you so completely it felt like you were being split open.

He was overstimulating you, his hands moving everywhere—pinching, pulling, and guiding you—while his lower body remained a relentless machine. He began to stutter-step his rhythm, finding that perfect, sensitive spot and grinding his weight into it until you were sobbing, your heels digging into the small of his back.

"You’re so tight," he groaned, his voice sounding like gravel. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his sea-green eyes blown out, hooded and dangerous. "I’ve got you so worked up you can’t even breathe, can you? Just a shaking, dripping mess for me."

He hammered into you again, harder this time, the bed frame creaking ominously. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, needing to feel the salt-crusted heat of him. The cabin felt like an oven.

You were right on the edge, your vision blurring, your breath coming in short, jagged little chirps as he pushed you further and further into a mindless haze of pleasure.

"That's it," he urged, his pace snapping into something frantic. "Give it all to me. Break for me."

The door to the cabin didn't just open; it swung wide with the casual confidence of someone who lived there.

"Hey, Percy, Leo's asking about the coordinates for the Mare Nostrum again, he says the Archimedes spheres are acting—"

The voice cut off as if someone had physically clamped a hand over the speaker's throat.

Percy froze mid-thrust, buried deep inside you, his body locked in a rigid line of tension. You shrieked, the sound dying in your throat as you scrambled to pull the thin, discarded sheet over your exposed chest, your face erupting into a heat that felt like it was going to set the room on fire.

Standing in the doorway was Frank Zhang. His hand was still on the doorknob, a piece of parchment clutched in his other hand. His jaw had dropped so low it looked like it might hit his chest.

His eyes were wide, darting from Percy’s bare, sweat-glistening back—still marked by your nails—to your flushed face and tangled hair, then down to where your legs were still draped over Percy's hips. The sight of the red handprints on your thighs and the visible, wet friction between you both made Frank’s brain seemingly short-circuit.

The silence that followed was deafening, save for the heavy, ragged sound of Percy’s breathing and the distant creak of the ship’s hull.

Frank’s face went from pale to a shade of red that rivaled a Roman war banner in approximately three seconds.

"Shit— uh— fuck!" Frank sputtered, his voice cracking an entire octave. He practically tripped over his own feet as he scrambled backward into the hallway, fumbling blindly for the door handle. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I— gods, I'm leaving! I'm gone!"

He slammed the door shut with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Percy remained frozen for a long second, the adrenaline of the moment mixing with the lingering, frustrated heat of his climax. Slowly, his head dropped onto your shoulder with a muffled groan of pure, unadulterated defeat.

"I'm going to kill him," Percy whispered into your skin, his voice thick with the remnants of his "beast" persona but vibrating with the sheer awkwardness of the moment. "I am actually going to jump overboard and never come back."

[diorchids]

1. YOU’RE WELCOME.

✶ warnings › bullying, pity sex, degradation, dubcon-ish ✶

✶ pairing › lukecastellan x loser!reader ✶

✶ a/n › starting k-tober off light! he’s kinda mean in this!!! also, i’ve never written for this concept before, be kinddd (｡﹏｡") ✶

kinktober masterlist.

it’s truly a pity, the way you are. 

at camp, it'd be better for you to just stay hidden. the way you dressed, your hair, how you hadn’t even had your first kiss. even with all the summers you’d come back to camp, nobody wanted to be caught dead with you. 

“it’s just unfortunate,” you hear a high voice say through the wooden door. you’d been sitting on your bunk all day after making a fool of yourself down at the lake. “look at the girl! she can barely come out of her cabin without breaking down and sobbing. what a shame. luke?” she asks him, who you didn’t know was there. 

he was kind, though. the kinda boy who you’d feel comfortable alone in an elevator with. he waved at you once, like, two summers ago. he also asked if you knew where he could get a blunt. so charming, that one! 

“no, yeah… she’s—she’s a fuckin’ freak…” his mouth dried up. you weren’t that bad. 

the rotten wooden floors creaked underneath your feet as you stood and softly walked toward the door, making sure neither of them heard you. the girl talking to luke shushed him, who wasn’t speaking at all, and leaned closer to the door, maybe pushing her ear up against it. “i think the bitch is listening right now!” and an obnoxious giggle followed right after. “hey, bitch, we can hear you!” she pounded her fists against the door before you stumbled back, tripping on a boot behind you. 

you land flat on your ass. it throbs when you stand and run to the part of the cabin furthest from the door, barely holding back tears. “luke, i’m telling you, she’s nothing. quite literally nothing.” you can just barely make out her voice. footsteps trail away from your door, you stay glued to the wall. 

and for days you sobbed at the thought of luke hating you. the one person you take a liking to happens to hate you. he probably likes whoever was with him on the other side of the door. they probably bond over their shared hatred for you. you hadn’t even come out of your cabin in fear of seeing luke after what happened! he’d know you as the girl who bust her ass after eavesdropping on a conversation with his girlfriend. or whoever that was. point still stands, he hates you. 

didn’t take away from the fact you liked him a lot. his biceps, calves, thighs. anything about him, you liked. you slipped your fingers between your slick folds, lying flat on your bunk while everyone else laughed and socialized down at the bonfire by the lake. your fingers ran over your puffy clit, pushing on it, making your hips buck up. luke would push your hands out of the way and whisper, “l’me do it,” and his fingers would circle your sopping hole, threatening to push inside if you promised to be quiet. to not let anyone know what you two were doing. not because he was ashamed, because he wanted you to himself. 

or maybe he’d stretch his arm out to your lips, a blunt held between his index and middle finger, “c’mon,” he’d say. “you’ll feel better, baby.” 

that was romantic. him wanting you. 

you screwed your eyes shut to the thought of that beautiful image. maybe he’d rut his cock against your ass at night after sneaking into your cabin. his fingers dig into your fleshy thighs as he gets himself off, inhaling your scent and moaning in your ear, letting you know you’re enough for him. “so beautiful. all i need… this right here,” voice all muffled from his face digging into your neck. “perfect.”

then you woke up. 

you finally worked up the courage to do something about this. you ached for him to be as close as you imagined. you found him lingering by the lake, lighting an expertly-rolled blunt with a matchstick. your eyes run over his form, biceps toned and all perfect right in front of you. “you need somethin’?” a plume of smoke escaped through his teeth as he spoke. “no—no, i wa—i needed a rock,” your fingers tangled behind your back as you looked at anything but him. 

“you needed a rock?” a tinge of disbelief in his voice. he furrowed his eyebrows at you before bursting into laughter. a soft smile takes over your face as it warms with embarrassment. he found you funny. he wasn’t laughing with you, but you didn’t think he was fully laughing at you.

and so, you both sat and spoke for hours down at that lake. he made dumb jokes to you in an attempt to open you up, to get you to say something. you went back and forth asking each other questions about college and your lives outside of camp. his stories of parties and sex made you cringe but not for him, but for you. 

he gave you the floor to talk about anything. you told him about school and how you’d done quite well this past year, but he wasn’t phased. “anything but that shit. no parties? drinking? have you even had sex? huh?” he expected you to admit it was all a joke and for you to share stories that were better left unsaid. nothing. did he not know? you were sure he hated you and knew about your isolationist tendencies, the same ones that barred you from forming any meaningful relationships in and outside of camp. 

he took a drag from the blunt and threw his head back,  exhaling. “no parties, drinking, weed, or sex?” he really stressed that last word, pulling his head back up and staring at you. waiting. you shook your head with your lips pressed into a line as his teeth dug into his bottom lip, examining your form. knees close to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, foot tapping the small pebbles settled underneath your ass.

“i should go.”

weeks go by and you pass glances at one another from time to time. he lingers at the lake while you stay back, lying on your bunk. thinking. 

there’s a slight knock at the front door of your cabin, like it’s meant to be quiet. to not draw attention. your other mates are out because they’d rather let you sulk in peace. whoever’s outside is growing impatient because they knock again, this time a little more aggressive. “coming! sorry!” you awkwardly shuffle to the door before swinging it open, only to be met with the face of luke. you’re unable to get a word out, your feet stay planted as you stare up at him. 

“gonna let me in or just look all stupid?” he took a step closer, his arm grazing your chest. you let him in and asked him why he’d even set foot in your cabin. you told him you thought he didn’t want to be seen with you, he didn’t confirm or deny that. “you’re in college and you haven’t fucked, i wanted to help you. it’s honestly fuckin’ sad.”

your nails dig into your arm. “help me?” 

“help you, yeah, help,” fingers running through his hair, “like i just said,” he exhales. “i’ll fuck you.” 

your breath gets caught in your throat when he says it like that. you try your best to get him to leave by explaining you’ll live without sex, and how it can actually benefit some people to be left alone, and how you’re fine. you’re lying, obviously, you need it. 

both of his hands are holding your waist as he kisses your neck and suckles at it, they massage underneath your stomach and hips as he groans deeply in your ear. “poor girl,” he whispers as he tugs at your loose shorts. “lie down f’me.”

“don’t get used to this, alright? i’m only doing it ‘cause you’ve been so pathetic about it.”

you lie back with your thin, cotton underwear barely covering your wet cunt that throbs at the sight of the man before you. his thumb rests on your chubby clit and rubs circles on it with his other hand holding onto your thigh. “first time ever doin’ this and you’re already so ready, right? nobody’s touched you here at all, huh?” he teases as your back arches off of the bed involuntarily. “so fucking sad,” you rubbed your cunt onto his thumb now, it’s all slick through your underwear. 

he can tell you’re getting desperate, so he peels your underwear off and pulls you closer to him. cock’s all hard and sensitive, just having to rub against the fabric of his boxers while he ruins you. oh, how badly he wants to cum. he smirks to himself at the thought of cumming in a virgin, all tight and warm. “pretty pussy hasn’t been touched at all… you’re so lucky i’m here,” he leans into your cunt, the warmth of his face near it makes you sigh softly. “m’so lucky, yeah—my first,” you nod profusely. 

his lips latch onto your pretty cunt which make your thighs tremble softly. he holds onto your thighs once again, keeping you still as he tastes you real good. his warm tongue dips into your cunt perfectly, just pushing past that spongy, soft spot in your gummy walls. “c-can’t do it, luke!” you buck your hips into his mouth and your juices mixed with his saliva run down his chin disgustingly. 

he pulls off for a second, just to speak, “she’s been waiting for this, gotta give it to ‘er. don’t move,” his nails dig into your plush thighs even more when he starts sucking your clit again, one thigh feeling a bit of relief when his hand pulls off and he dips his middle finger into your pussy. 

“shit, you’re really this tight? guess bein’ ignored all this time did somethin’ to you.”

you thrash and cry out while he fucks your glistening cunt with one finger, “t-too much, luke!” you try and pull off his finger, but he just digs deeper into you, making sure to curl up into your hole. “y’know, maybe this is why nobody fucks you—you can’t take it,” laughing.

“jus’ let me have it now, luke,” you whine, “don’t want it to hurt, put it in n-now…” his finger still deep in you. his eyes are trained on your face, the way your hair sticks to your forehead and how your teeth tear into your bottom lip, drawing blood. your eyebrows knitted as he hits that good spot. “since you want it so badly,” he sits up and pulls his sweatpants off, his boxers follow. 

your jaw goes slack at the sight of it and you crane your neck to get a better look. he notices your face and grins seeing you all nervous and shit. “relax. i’ll help you through it, we both know no one else will,” he spit on his hand and started stroking his cock while you watch, legs spread, a lump in your throat, hands gripping your bedsheets so you don’t faint. 

it’s so thick, and the tip of it’s all red, puffy and angry. he rubs it against your clit, hands wrapped around your thighs once again to really make sure you don’t run. you wanted this, it’s clear. “f-first time feelin’ a cock against you, right?” he could barely get the words out without stuttering, you feel too good! 

his cock slipped into you in a way that screamed "i'm so sorry for you,” like he wanted you to know this was a favor, that he wouldn’t do this any other time. he’s helping a loser. he fucks his cock into you, pulling in and out with your shared juices at the base of his cock. “fuckin’ tight,” your nails dig into his arms that are planted on either side of your head, sheets in his fist as he pushes into you. the way your gummy hole squeezes him, practically beckoning him inside, it’s inviting. 

you can’t take it, to be honest! your thighs shaking and back arching off the bed as luke gives you what you wanted. “need this experience if you want a man, y’know?” he thrusts, “e-experience is required.” 

you unravel underneath him with that knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust he gives you, “g-gonna cum, luke, please!” you pleaded with him to get off of you, to not make you cum around him, to save you the embarrassment of letting go all over him. 

“let it go,” he thrusts with each word. his thick cock hit that spot too much for you to handle. so you do let it go and your cunt flutters around his shaft. you milk him with each time it restricts around him, choking him. “cummin’! i’m cummin’!” you cry out, every part of your body trembling as your orgasm takes over your entire body. he finds this hilarious, laughing as your body contorts just from the feeling of his cock. 

your cunt is still so much tighter than anyone he’s had before, somehow! even with all of this, you’re just squeezing him so good. he has to cum. he feels his balls tightening as he approaches his orgasm. “put my babies n’ you,” groaning out, arms bending for his elbows to rest beside your head when he gives you his all. “poor fuckin’ girl needed my cock to c-cum!” before his warm load spills deep inside of you. his cock twitches as he fucks it into you, holding your face in his hands while is cum spills out of you with each thrust. 

the aftershocks of your orgasm were still hitting you as he quickly pulled out of you, pulling his boxers and sweatpants back on. 

“y’know, you should be grateful. nobody else would waste their time,” he ran his fingers through his damp curls as he spoke. “you’re welcome.”

✶ › @lindsay00000008 @ptolomia @his-sweet-angel @spookypeacesandwich @francesababyd0ll @pesto777 @loverangels @boldlyenchantingfox22 @patientnumber13 @luvvforliaa @floatinginthecosmo @bubbly0 @bigmeangiant @mayo-n-ketchup @sisyqhus @breisgold-blog @olderguysworld @x-fanaccount1-x @xombied @tribbisweetdear @livlocus

if you commented and weren’t tagged, i unfortunately wasn’t able to tag you!