#I haven’t had one of these in so long I forgot my tag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpsserene · 8 months

Text

ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!

huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)

cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss

here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!

it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.

this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).

the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.

you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.

you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left.

they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“

“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”

charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.”

you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”

you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.

you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like.

you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.

max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.

you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.

you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.

your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.

you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.

now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing.

“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.

the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss.

your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.

charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control.

the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.

eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall.

his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can.

your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing.

thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath.

the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.

you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.

you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other.

the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.

you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face.

even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises.

the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come.

you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.

but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it.

your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.

you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.

after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.

fuck.

a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”

max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath.

but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide.

charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”

max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”

the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom.

max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.

max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”

your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly.

max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”

you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.

the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”

you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“

charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”

you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”

you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”

max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.

“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”

“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”

charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago.

you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy! i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”

a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.

“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone.

a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”

max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.

charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.

“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”

the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.

you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”

“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”

max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.

max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”

“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.

you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”

max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.

“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”

charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“

“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”

you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.

“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“

“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”

you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.

“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”

you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”

max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.

max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.

“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”

you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them.

your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.”

“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.

“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.

he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”

you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”

he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—

“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.

max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”

charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”

you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”

charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”

“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.

“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”

“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”

you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes.

you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.

“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”

“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”

“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste.

you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.

“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”

charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”

“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”

“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”

“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”

“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“

what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.

max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.

you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“

and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.”

they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep.

“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner.

shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”

max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”

3K notes · View notes

clementine-thedestroyer · 8 months

Text

Miguel O’Hara x reader - Sew cute

Warnings/tags: Miguel getting lowkey horny over his girlfriend knowing how to sew. Also, mentions of marriage.

Part two

I have this head cannon of rich bf Miguel finding his girlfriend’s hobbies adorable and taking every possible opportunity to fule her passion- I might make this a loosely related series, where it’d be the same concept but different hobbies.

I’m so sorry for the pun as the title.

It all started when a line of stitching on your pants began to loosen. The top stitching under the fly, specifically.

You complained offhandedly about it to Miguel, leaning against his side and pouting slightly as you whined about your favorite pair of pants starting to give out. Miguel chuckled softly at your dramatics, scrolling through his phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulder sympathetically with his other, eventually pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising to buy you a new pair next time you two went shopping.

Except, he never gets a chance. Because the next night, he comes home to the sight of you hunched over on the couch, your tongue bitten in concentration as a movie you’re not paying attention too plays on the TV, your head turned to something in your lap instead.

Miguel can’t help his curiosity- coming up behind you and peaking over your shoulder.

Looking down, he sees what you’re focused so intensely on, and it catches him off guard.

You held a thread and needle in one hand and what he assumed to be your pants in the other, carefully sewing a line of stitching into the fabric. Except, you weren’t working on your pants- your pants were sitting to the side of you- the stitching already repaired. Now, you had one of Miguel’s shirts- one he recognized as one he had planned on getting rid of because of a seam coming undone.

“¿Qué haces?” Miguel asks, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing loving circles into the tense muscles as watched you work.

You can’t help but shudder as Miguel’s fingers dig into your back, easing the pain from sitting hunched over for so long. You try to keep the shakiness out of your voice as you look up at him to answer his question.

“I’m fixing my pants. The ones that were coming apart- I told you about that yesterday, remember?”

“Love, that’s my shirt. Not your pants.”

“O-oh yeah.” You felt yourself flush in embarrassment, looking back down at the shirt you had stolen from Miguel. “Well- yeah- I finished the pants earlier. Then I found this shirt in with the rest of the clothes while I was putting away laundry. I-I hope you don’t mind that I’m fixing it-”

Miguel smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as he continued rubbing your shoulders. “Of course I don’t mind. But, I’m more than happy to buy us both new clothes. You don’t need to worry about pinching pennies.”

You turn to him, a grin spread across your still warm cheeks as you respond. “Miguel, there’s no reason to replace something so easy to repair! Plus, I’m enjoying myself!”

Miguel nodded, looking down to admire the stitching you had done on the shirt so far. “Hm… I didn’t know you could sew, mi amor.”

“It’s not exactly hard, just moving the needle through the fabric, you know? I haven’t done it in a good while, I forgot how much I liked doing this kinda stuff.”

Miguel was enamored by this new revelation. Before this, he had always seen sewing as more of an old person thing, but he couldn’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling of domesticity he got from watching you lay in his lap as you delicately maneuvered the needle and thread through the torn fabric of his shirt. He couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride at the sight, it was like you were his little house wife.

Or…house girlfriend? Because he hasn’t married you yet…. But that’s really just a technicality. You’re his house wife, Miguel has decided it.

The next morning, when you handed him the repaired shirt with a proud grin, Miguel couldn’t help but feel treasured and loved from the simple gesture. Before this, Miguel would never have considered wearing something that had ripped them been repaired. He had the money to replace things, so why wouldn’t he? But from that day on, that shirt became his favorite, and he wore it every chance he had.

After that, Miguel started coming home with little handicraft and embroidery kits for you. Whenever he’d get see a kit he knew you’d like- maybe it had your favorite animal or something- he’d toss it in the cart and save it for a rainy day, whether that be a metaphorical or literal one.

And it all stayed like that for a while: Miguel bringing you small hand sewing and embroidery kits, you lighting up and getting started on them right away- usually spending the rest of the night on the couch next to Miguel with a movie or show on in the background.

Until one of your friends asked that you sign up for a sewing workshop with them. It was a relatively basic class, held at one of the local chain fabric/craft stores, but you had agreed to go, mostly for your friends sake.

The workshop was fun. You learned a bit about sewing machine tension and using patterns, and the sewing project given was simple and doable within the time period.

You didn’t realize that Miguel had come early, or that he was standing in the doorway of the classroom, watching you sew with a smile. He would deny it if you asked him, but he had arrived early on purpose to watch the last few minutes of the class. He had assumed the class was hand sewing, like everything else he had seen you do up till that point, and he was surprised to see you hunched over a sewing machine instead of your usual needle and thread.

It was like the first time he saw you sewing all over again: he was fucking smitten, and was going to make you his wife. That was all he could think about, because god help him, you already looked and acted the part.

Miguel was mesmerized by how focused you were as you moved the fabric through the machine. The way you bit your lip and furrowed your brow in concentration- it was precious, and Miguel wanted nothing more than to melt at how domestic you seemed while doing it.

And when you finished and came up to him? With a wide grin as you proudly presented the stuffed animal you had made during the workshop, insisting that you made it for him? His heart melted, right then and there. He squeezed that stuffed animal so tight and looked down at you with so much love, you were half worried he’d either pounce on you or make the poor stuffed animal’s head pop off (which Miguel might have cried about, at this point).

After the workshop, Miguel didn’t take you home. You and him stayed at the fabric store, him loading your arms up with fabric, patterns, and whatever else he decided you needed. “You like this one? No? You don’t? Well I think it’s just a good basic- like a black shirt, so we should just get it anyways.”

Oh god. And then he found the baby clothes patterns. You could’ve sworn you spent hours at that craft store.

1K notes · View notes

sugrhigh · 4 months

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 3 - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, a bit of drinking

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: part three baby here we go! hope you guys enjoy!! if i forgot a tag it either wouldn’t let me or i missed it (if i missed u pls comment and i’ll fix it right up). anyways kisses for u all i hope ur having a good day, my inbox is open for anything as always MWAH

@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @heartz4chris @sturnvvz @cupidsword @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner

it’s been a day since the kiss, and you still haven’t told a single soul. for some reason, you’re way too scared to admit what happened to your roommates, even though you know they’d be the last to judge you for it.

and yet you just can’t, despite the fact that it’s been eating you alive for over twenty-four hours straight. saying it out loud makes it real, so you decided it was best to keep it inside.

however, you still need to give chris his jersey back, which you’ve been neglecting to do because you don’t want to see him.

or maybe because you’re scared.

it’s an involuntary thought, and it makes you angry. there’s nothing to be scared of, because he doesn’t have any power over you.

right?

you grab his jersey off the top of your dresser. it’s all clean, and it still smells like detergent from when you washed it yesterday. you’ve been putting it off all day, and it’s time for that to stop.

the sun is nearly gone, so you head down the stairs, silently thankful that ramona and cassidy are both are both runnings errands as you slip out the front door.

you’re in your comfy clothes, black sweats and baby blue hoodie that you stole from cass, and you’re immediately regretting the fact that you didn’t grab a jacket.

you hurry across the lawn, passing the cars parked in the driveway. there’s an unfamiliar red one at the end, and it almost makes you pause, but the possibility doesn’t fully connect in your mind yet.

so you head up the steps and knock on the door loudly, still very much so a woman on a mission.

it takes a moment, a long moment, before someone comes to open it for you. it’s connor, which is unfortunate, because you really weren’t prepared to speak with anyone besides the one boy you’re actually looking for.

he looks a little confused, but he smiles nonetheless. “what’s up?”

“i’m just, uh, trying to drop off chris’s jersey.” any bit of confidence you had is gone now as you choke on your words.

connor’s eyes widen a little as his grin fades, though you can tell he’s trying to play it off. “he’s a little busy right now, but i’ll get it to him.”

your eyebrows furrow as he reaches his arms out, like he’s trying to rush the process along without any more interrogation.

“busy with what?” you question, though you hand it over regardless.

he looks at you for just a half a second too long, like he’s waiting for you to piece it together, and then it clicks. chris is busy because he has a girl over, and that’s her car in the driveway.

you wish it didn’t phase you, but you can feel your face morphing into an emotion that borders disgust and anger.

“oh, i see.” is all you say, because you’re already fucking embarrassed beyond belief.

you turn and head back down the stairs, trying to ignore the way your stomach is flipping like you’re going to throw up.

connor doesn’t say anything. instead you hear the door close, and you feel completely numb as you walk back to your own porch. part of it is because of the cold, and part of it is because you feel so stupid.

you’re not sure what you were expecting, but that was exactly what you should’ve anticipated knowing chris.

you step back into the warmth of your own home, and even when you close and lock the door, a shiver chases you.

you head back up to your bedroom, kicking your shoes off by the door. you want further confirmation, so you peek through the curtains that hang over your window.

chris’s room, which is coincidentally directly across from yours, reveals nothing besides a dim light that peeks through the closed blinds.

you let the drapes fall back into place, still in shock. it was so ridiculous to believe for even a second that he was any different than he had been for the last six months.

you should’ve taken him at his word. he doesn’t date, and he’s not interested in you beyond teasing you or making you look like an idiot.

and you refuse to be taken for a fool.

you pace along the floor for a second until you decide you deserve some wine. you know there’s at least half a bottle in the fridge, and maybe it’ll help you calm the hell down.

a few minutes later you’re back upstairs, huddled up in your bed with a book you had started earlier in the day, sipping from your glass as you read.

it’s hard to fall into the fantasy world you picked out at first, but then you begin to feel your cheeks flush and your eyes are suddenly devouring the words.

you’re so enveloped in the plot, completely unaware that your roommates had gotten home until ramona walks in. it startles you, so much so that you lose your page.

she pauses to take in your state; the empty glass, the minimal leftovers in the bottle you brought with you, your droopy eyes.

“wine before 7 p.m. on the lord’s day? you’re crazy.” she jokes with a grin.

you shrug, also smiling a little bit. “felt like getting a little wild.”

mona puts a hand on her hip and nods toward the door she just entered through. “well, could i maybe convince you to take this crazy train downstairs so we can catch up on VPR? we’re like, three episodes behind now.”

you snap your book closed and roll out of bed, which you can tell by her snort looks far from graceful.

“all you had to say was VPR.”

you sit at your desk, gnawing on your bottom lip as you try to focus on the stupid online homework prompts that are due soon. the overcast afternoon light pours into your room, and you hear your phone buzz against the wood.

chris

still playing hard to get?

you roll your eyes before you can help it. the text doesn’t surprise you, because he’s been messaging you for the past few days, ever since he inevitably found out you stopped by from connor.

chris

that’s clearly a yes.

you wonder how many times he’s going to text you as you put your phone down to pull your hair out of your face, tying it up at the back of your head.

once again, you hear the device vibrate, and you flip it to glance at the screen.

chris

i can see you ignoring me you know

your eyes betray you as you glance out the window, just to find chris standing in front of his own. he’s pouting at you with his phone in his hand, hair all curly and damp like he just got out of the shower.

you stand up from your chair without a second thought and take a few steps so you can yank your curtains closed.

he might refuse to believe it, but you’re not playing hard to get. you just can’t fucking stand him.

chris

now that’s just cold

come onnnnnn princess

y/n

holy shit

do NOT call me princess

chris

you love it

y/n

i hate you

chris

if you don’t stop this i’m coming over there

y/n

i’d like to see you try asshole

chris

fine.

you pull back one curtain to call his bluff, and your heart actually drops when you see that he’s not standing there anymore. that just means he’s probably on his way over already.

you have no idea if cass or ramona are home or in their rooms or what. but you do know that you’re locking your door, and if he makes it through the house undetected he’s not getting into your room.

you sit on the edge of your bed for a moment, waiting because you don’t know what else to do with yourself. and then the knock comes, right before chris twists the handle and finds it locked.

“open up.” he demands, his gruff voice muffled through the door.

“no.”

“i’ll go downstairs and get cass if you don’t let me in.” he threatens, which doesn’t really scare you.

cassidy will kick his ass out if she realizes you don’t want him here. you’ll have to explain some things, but it’s probably time to do that anyways.

“you’re being a baby and you’re wasting your time. go home, chris.” you reiterate.

“come on, i just want to talk.” he wiggles the handle once again, like that will somehow open it.

“then call a sex addiction helpline.” you reply hotly, glaring at the slab of wood that separates you as if you can actually see him, though you’re glad you can’t.

“can you please open the door?”

“nope.”

“jesus, you’re so stubborn it’s ridiculous.” he groans, and you hear his forehead thump against the door.

he’s growing frustrated now, and even though you’re heated too, you kind of love it.

“so are you! how many times do i have to tell you to leave?” you shoot back.

it’s silent for a moment, which scares you. then you hear a small sigh.

“i didn’t think i would have to do this.”

the lock on the door begins to twist and turn rapidly, and you leap forward to grab it with your hand.

chris twists it hard and your fingers fumble to keep it jammed. your thumb is already in pain, and the harder he pushes the closer you are to failing. you’re finally forced to let go as chris comes shoving his way into your room a few seconds later.

even though he stumbles slightly, he looks so proud of himself, clutching the heavy duty paper clip he used to get inside.

“there, that’s better.” he says smugly.

you watch his eyes take in your room, covered in posters and full of random artifacts, and you hate it. for some reason, it feels deeply personal.

“holy shit, why don’t you just go home already?”

it’s impossible to keep your tone level anymore as you turn away from him.

“i’m here now, so you have to talk to me.”

“no, i really don’t.” you reply before plopping down onto your mattress, crossing your arms as you lean against the headboard.

“don’t be a brat.” chris follows your lead, even though you weren’t inviting him to join you.

he falls beside you, sprawling out on his back by your feet. his shirt raises over his sweats, exposing a bit of skin above the band of his boxers, and you have to tear your eyes away.

you can feel the warmth of his body, can smell his aftershave mixed with hints of some kind of fresh body wash, and all of it drives you crazy.

you curl your body into itself so there’s as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“why are you so mad?” chris turns his head slightly so he can look at you.

“i’m not mad, you just disgust me.”

this makes him smile. “i beg to differ, i think you like me.”

without hesitation, you extend one leg to kick him in his side. even though it’s not very forceful, he lets out a little groan of surprise, hand going to rub his hip as he frowns.

“you didn’t have to kick me, damn.”

“you deserved that.” you argue, tucking your knees back to your chest.

this time he stays silent and just looks at you. his eyes scan your face, darting down to your lips every other second, and you’re suddenly very aware of your surroundings.

“what the fuck are you staring at?” you ask in a brief moment of panic.

his eyes are so unnerving. it’s like he can see right through you.

“you’re pretty.” chris shrugs before averting his gaze back to the ceiling.

your face flushes, and you force yourself to remember the embarrassment from the other day, how stupid you felt after discovering that he’s still the same old player that sits beside you now.

“shouldn’t you be giving some other girl an STD or something?” you snap, and he huffs out a breathy laugh.

“first of all, i’m totally clean. and if you’d actually let me explain, you’d realize the girl that was over on sunday is just an ex fling who was picking up some old stuff.”

his clarification shocks you, though you still don’t necessarily believe it yet. he could be lying, even though it doesn’t seem like he is.

“you’re seriously telling me you weren’t hooking up with her?” you ask.

“it was strictly platonic. nothing happened.” he confirms, shifting to face you again.

chris lifts his hand to trace gentle patterns along your shins, and you don’t shy away this time. the feeling of his palms, even when separated by your leggings, is far nicer than you imagined.

“okay.” you mutter simply.

“you’ve been ignoring me the entire week and all i get is an ‘okay’?” he halts his movements so he can curl his fingers into air quotes.

“what would you like me to say?”

“an apology would be a nice start.”

you bark out a laugh. “an apology for what? for not talking to you? because i really didn’t take you for the sensitive type.”

he just shakes his head, nudging your legs with one of his knuckles lightly. “god, you and that headstrong attitude will be the death of me.”

“can’t wait.” you quip back, and now its his turn to chuckle.

silence settles over the two of you for a moment, and you’ve been far too close for too long, so you move to stand once again.

“alright, well, we talked. time for you to get lost.” you motion toward the door.

chris sits up, running a hand through his messy hair before he replies. “look, we don’t have another game until sunday, so we’re hosting at the house tomorrow. you should come.”

you raise an eyebrow and tap your chin, like you’re really contemplating. “i’ll have to think about it.”

“please? it’ll only be fun if you go.” he flashes you a charming smile, and you hate that it actually does kind of work.

“maybe i’ll make a special appearance. maybe.” you point a wary finger at him as he gets back on his feet.

“that’s what i like to hear.” chris says, making his way toward you.

you expect him to pass right by, but he lingers, like there’s something else on his mind. he stares down at you with those big blue eyes, and you can feel yourself slipping into dangerous territory.

“is there something else?” you ask softly, and the sound of your voice is maddening to him.

you don’t even try to tempt chris on purpose, he knows this, and yet everything about you is so enticing. not to mention he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss since it happened, or that pretty little mouth of yours.

but he shakes his head again, because the things he’s thinking about you so early on in this strange relationship frighten him.

“uh, no, sorry. i’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”

and then he blows right by you without waiting for a response, disappearing just as quickly as he arrived.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #hockey!chris #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #fanfic #new series #sturniolo fanfic

405 notes · View notes

bennyden · 5 months

Text

User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism.

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it.

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here.

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately.

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now.

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did.

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping.

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave.

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us.

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from.

Thanks for reading.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #reader fanfiction #prince aemond #plagiarism #android x reader #robot x reader #ao3 #aemond and reader smut

469 notes · View notes

simplybakugou · 5 days

Note

Could you do another drink bakugo?

⋆ PAIRING: drunk/prohero!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; alcohol; all characters are adults ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3003

A/N: taking a break from mystic academia cause this has been sitting in my inbox for so long and i wanted to save it until i got some inspiration for another drunk!bakugou and i finally found the inspo hehe. also when i first started writing drunk!bakugou oneshots, i was 17 LMAO and now as a 23 y/o that has actually been drunk i can write this a little more accurately lol. also i was struggling trying to end this cause i didn’t want it to be longer than it already is (imo) lol so im sorry for the awkward ending. ty for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

It was a stupid idea. Why the hell would Bakugou go into a bar with the most loud and raucous people he knew even though he’d never drank a day in his life?

He couldn’t think of something he wanted to do less in that moment. He was exhausted, coming from a day of patrolling and hero work. Although his friends also came from their jobs, they actually drank alcohol and wanted to unwind after five years of constantly overworking themselves.

“Are you really not gonna get anything, Katsuki?” Sero questioned, giving the table’s drink orders to the bartender.

“I’m not fucking up my body just to look like an idiot like you dumbasses,” Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

“Why’d you come then?” Kaminari quipped, interested in hearing Bakugou’s answer.

“Cause your dumbass wouldn’t stop bothering me about coming out tonight!” Bakugou replied angrily.

“Oh yeah!” Kaminari exclaimed, laughing at himself. “I forgot.”

“It’s good to come out with us once in a while,” Kirishima said, nodding his head. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone since we graduated, man. We haven’t seen you in years.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous. I’m not stopping until I’m number one. You shits can drink all you fucking want but I’m not gonna sit around every week just to catch up.”

Kaminari sighed, shaking his head. “This is why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” Sero nodded along with him.

“And what the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Bakugou snarled, slamming his fist against the table out of annoyance.

“You’re a workaholic, dude,” Sero stated matter-of-factly. “When are you gonna have the time to date? If you slowed down a little you could’ve at least gone out with Y/N back when you had a crush on her in U.A.”

“I did not have a crush on that shitty girl.” Bakugou felt himself getting even more angered just hearing your name uttered.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Kirishima said, patting his friend on the shoulder only to get shook off by Bakugou.

The drinks Sero ordered arrived and the rest of the guys cheered each other before downing their beverages. Bakugou sipped on his water he was forced to get after Sero berated him to order something.

The more alcohol his friends consumed, the more rowdy and even more raucous they got and Bakugou questioned even more why he decided to go out with them. It was karaoke night at the bar and Bakugou swore his ears were bleeding as Kaminari consistently kept attempting to serenade him.

Despite how chaotic it was in the bar that night, Bakugou eventually found himself enjoying it. Kaminari and Sero got the most drunk, getting up to dance and stumbling over one another, which made Bakugou and Kirishima burst into laughter. He would never tell them, but he needed this time out and away from the constant need to work towards his one and only goal.

The night was going great; until the door to the bar opened. Bakugou turned his head to the noise of the bell ringing above the door. It stuck out amongst the voices and loud nature of the room and he felt his face drop at the sight.

There you were, five years older than the last time he had seen you in person. And you weren’t alone as your arm was looped around the arm of another man.

Bakugou couldn’t help but stare at the sight. He drowned out the sounds of Kaminari, Sero, Kirishima, and a few strangers they had recruited at the bar playing drinking games as his focus was only on you. You scanned the area, waving shyly to a few people that recognized you as their favorite rising hero and sat in the corner of the room with your mystery man.

Kirishima glanced at Bakugou, recognizing that he was distracted by something else and looked towards what had caught his eye. He immediately understood the reason for the defeated look on his friend’s face.

“I’m sorry, man,” Kirishima stated simply.

“Sorry?” Bakugou scoffed. “For what? There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were never together.” The last part Bakugou muttered to himself as he finally tore his eyes away from you and down to his glass of water.

And it was true; you and Bakugou were never together back when you attended U.A. with him and the others. Matter of fact, you didn’t even know Bakugou liked you back then as he made it his mission that you never found out. Not only did he refuse to let himself be subjected to such vulnerable feelings like love and infatuation, you and your peers were constantly bombarded with hero work and dealing with the League of Villains to ever have the time for confessions. At the time, romantic relationships were trivial.

As things died down by the time class A graduated, Bakugou busied himself with his long-time goal of wanting to become the number one hero. He kept telling himself that it was time to grow up and forget about what he assumed to be a little crush but the more he kept shoving his feelings inside, the more intense they became.

That was why it felt like a punch to the gut to see you laughing with and leaning onto a man that wasn’t him.

“Hey, dunce face,” Bakugou grunted. Kaminari lifted his head and looked over at Bakugou with hazy eyes. “Get me the strongest drink here.”

“Dude, you really should slow down,” Kirishima urged, concerned as he watched Bakugou down shot after shot. “You’ve never drank before and this’ll probably mess you up fast.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou said in a rush, out of breath from the abundance of liquids he furiously ingested. He held the next shot glass to his lips, preparing himself to throw it back along with the countless shots he had already done; he felt like he was going to be sick, to no one’s surprise. Bakugou slammed the shot glass down onto the table, still full of alcohol, and he slammed his head onto the table as well. His head was throbbing but he felt like he could float in the air if he really tried.

Kirishima chuckled at his friend, taking advantage of the situation and taking the shot glass away from Bakugou.

Kaminari swung his arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “See, dude, now we’re having fun!” The last word was elongated as he let out a small hiccup.

“Get the fuck off of me, dunce face,” Bakugou mumbled with his head still on the table, causing his words to be muffled. Nevertheless, Kaminari knew exactly what his grouchy friend had said but ignored him.

For the first time that night, Kaminari looked around the room and noticed you sitting alone now in the corner of the bar. He shot up, waving his hand out at you. “Y/N!”

Bakugou’s eyes, which were once closed shut as the alcohol was rushing to his head all at once, shot wide open as he whipped his head up. He felt dizzy from how quick the motion was. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Come on, man, she’s sitting over there all alone,” Kaminari reasoned, turning his attention back to you. You also had finally noticed your old classmates, smiling at the sight. “Hang out with us, Y/N!”

“Alone?” Bakugou questioned softly. He looked over at you and felt a wave of relief wash over him as he carefully watched you make your way to their table, mystery man out of the picture.

“I didn’t know you guys were here tonight,” you said with a smile. You sounded level-headed and Bakugou determined that you were probably the most sober person in the room that night.

“Yeah, we come here a lot after our patrol shifts,” Sero commented.

“All of you?” You questioned, interested as you scanned each of the guys sitting at the table. Finally you locked eyes with Bakugou and he swore your gaze could’ve pierced right through him. He broke eye contact first as he felt his face burning up even more with the effects of the alcohol.

“We usually have to beg Katsuki to come out. You know how he is,” Kirishima teased, wanting to lighten the mood for his friend. It didn’t work as Bakugou still had a sour expression on his face.

“Wanna get a few drinks with us?” Kaminari offered.

You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. Tonight hasn’t gone the way I wanted so I think I’m going to call it a night. It was nice seeing you guys.”

You waved goodbye to the boys, sending a small smile towards Bakugou as you understood he was in a bad mood but not understanding why. Your back was turned to them as you walked towards the exit and it was a miracle how you didn’t have two vermillion holes in your back the way Bakugou was staring at you leaving.

Bakugou stood up abruptly and he grabbed his coat and wallet. He sloppily pulled out a few bills and slammed them on the table as he made his way out as well.

“Where are you going?” Kirishima questioned.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You cursed at yourself for leaving your jacket in your date’s car as the winter snow began to litter the streets. Your body was shivering terribly. The bar had a few tables and chairs in front of the building and you sat yourself down as you contemplated how on Earth you were going to get home.

Before you could come up with a game plan, you felt a heavy leather jacket plop down onto your shoulders. You jumped at the sudden contact, watching as a clearly drunk-but-pretending-to-be-sober Bakugou sat himself in the chair across from you. “Bakugou! What’re you doing here?”

Bakugou ignored your question as he bluntly asked, “Where’s that fucker you came in with?”

You were taken aback by his questions. Only a few minutes ago did you realize that Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero were there in the bar with you that night. If he had seen you with your date, that meant Bakugou had seen you when you walked in.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and pulling Bakugou’s jacket closer to you as it kept you warm. “He was being… weird.”

“Weird how.” It was a question but you sensed the animosity in Bakugou’s tone as his expression harshened in a way that made his question a statement.

You waved your hands to calm him down. Why was he so upset? “Nothing bad, don’t worry. He’s just some guy I started dating. We weren’t official or anything but I liked him. He said he didn’t like me being a hero and said I should get a job that’d suit me in a feminine way.” You chuckled humorlessly as you recalled the misogynistic comment.

“What a fucking loser,” Bakugou grumbled, loud enough for you to hear and laugh at. He leaned back in his chair, resting his eyes. “You told him to fuck off, right?”

You nodded, amused as you always were back in U.A. with Bakugou’s colorful vocabulary. “Yup. He got pissed and left me here and I left my stuff in his car like an idiot.”

Bakugou opened his eyes and reached into his front pocket, cursing at himself as his fingers kept missing the opening seam. He pulled out his car keys and tossed them onto the table. You furrowed your eyes at the sight in confusion.

“Take my car to get home.”

You widened your eyes at his insane proposition, looking at the insignia on his keys as an expensive brand. “Bakugou, your car’s worth like a hundred million yen! There’s no way I can drive that!”

“Just do it, idiot,” Bakugou groaned, placing his forehead on the cold, snow-covered table. “Can’t let you just sit here in the cold.”

A moment passed as you were contemplating your choices only to realize in that time, Bakugou had fallen asleep. You chuckled softly, never expecting to see health-conscious Bakugou who’s always been adamant about never drinking inebriated.

You grabbed his keys and put them in the pocket of his leather jacket, slipping the jacket onto your arms. You knew you couldn’t just take his car and leave him here like this so you got up and went over to his side, gently shaking his shoulders to wake him. “Come on, big guy. We’re going home”

Bakugou let out a groan as you got him to his feet, your arm around his shoulders and you wrapped his arm around your waist to support him, resting your hand on his hand. You felt his body stiffen in reaction and you looked up at him curiously. His face was red again and you assumed it was a combination of the alcohol and the frigidness in the air. It most definitely was not either of those things.

“Where’d you park your car?” You asked as you slowly helped him walk.

He nodded in the direction ahead of you and you assumed he was referring to the parking lot that was thankfully right next to the bar. The two of you continued walking towards the lot and you found it unusual how quiet Bakugou was.

Once reaching the lot, you were originally going to search for Bakugou’s car only to not have to put any effort at all since his bright red sports car stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the Subarus and Toyotas.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Why am I not surprised by this at all, Bakugou.”

Bakugou flinched and he slowly pulled away from you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he wobbly made his way to his car. “Stop calling me that.”

“What? You don’t want me to call you Bakugou?” You question, confused. “Oh! I get it. You want me to call you by your hero name, right, Dynamight?”

“That’s not it either, idiot.”

“Oh, then, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight?”

“You’re so stupid.” Bakugou stopped right in front of his car and turned around, slowly so that he wouldn’t fall over. He had his signature frown on his face only this time it was out of frustration. “Back in U.A. you’d call me Katsuki.”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” you said, nodding your head as you recalled doing so. “But that was five years ago. I haven’t seen you since then and I just wanted to be polite.”

Bakugou kept quiet but his eyes never faltered or wavered as he kept them on you. You felt like he could burn right through you if he tried as you didn’t understand his frustrations. “Is everything okay, Ba– I mean, Katsuki.”

Bakugou’s eyes slightly widened for a moment and he felt like he was transported back to being a teenager. “No. Everything’s not okay ‘cause I still have this stupid crush on you that I’ve had since our first year in U.A.”

He let out a sigh, feeling a weight on his shoulders dissipate and he turned around back towards his car. You stood in place, shocked at the confession that you did not foresee at all. There was no way the Bakugou Katsuki had a crush on you, especially when you were just teenagers.

“Open the door.” Bakugou turned his head to you as he waited by the passenger door.

“Wait, wait, wait.” You waved your hands in front of you, still unable to wrap his words around your head. “This has to be a joke. There’s just no way– Why would you have a crush on me?”

Bakugou shrugged. “Dunno. Just happened.”

Your face felt hot and it wasn’t because of the weather. So much of your relationship with Bakugou made sense with this new realization. The reason for his cold shouldering you on numerous occasions or annoyed stares he’d give you when you got in a relationship in your second year all started to make sense. It was his way of conveying his feelings for you.

You shook your head, shaking the complex thoughts from your mind and snapping yourself back to reality as the cold air and Bakugou not having a jacket, since you were obviously wearing it, made you unlock his car with the key he gave you. You watched as Bakugou entered his car on the passenger side.

You knew you needed to give yourself a minute before you could enter the car beside him. How did you feel about him? You always thought he was handsome, when he wasn’t scowling at least, and you enjoyed seeing him mature every year in U.A. Even after graduation, you always watched the news fondly as you watched him evolve into an incredible hero, one that you knew was worthy of becoming number one.

So Bakugou Katsuki liked you. If your poor previous relationships taught you anything, it was to not turn down a good man when he was right in front of you. Or at least sitting in his sports car waiting for you to drive the two of you home since he was unexpectedly inebriated to do so himself.

Taking in a breath, you knew what you had to do; you wanted to see where this would go between the two of you. You opened the driver’s side door, sitting in your seat and collecting your thoughts briefly before turning to Bakugou to tell him exactly what was on your mind. You wanted to give it a shot.

And you were intent on doing just that until you turned to look at Bakugou only to see he was once again fast asleep, his chest rising and falling. You chuckled at the sight, taking in how adorable he was in that moment. Slipping his jacket off your body, you draped it over his body.

“Guess you’ll have to stay with me tonight.”

If you'd like to join my taglist, please join here!

Taglist (those who can’t be tagged here will be tagged in the comments):

@ahrinine @yahuwin @heroacademiafan @kirisclementine @happygalaxymilkshake @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @yaoyoroxu @cat181818meow @mirakeul @thatpeachybandgirl @shycoffeeparadise @iambashfulperson @sugacookiies @softiehawks @averitatsuyabnha @captaincyberqueen @corvid007 @kyluskaye @icy-hott @urmomsshousee @lmaobroccoli @anastar-legion @lowermoons @spectral-girl @mykuronekome @yourlocalsunfloweobsessedweeb @susu-chan @selfship-mishaps @nk-echi @ilovepizzaandimhot @life-is-not-daijobu @yoongiiyooo @runrabbitrun3 @dangerousluv1 @melodysakura @thooo0t @bibly @koiibin @anon-weeb-030 @magicshopowner @uglyratlmao @thathoneybee3 @yappychan @iheartfictionalboys @wisteria-and-nightshade @faeviii @soturoayami @moonlightaangel @creepyproxies @mhasimp666

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia imagines #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #alcohol tw #tw alcohol

229 notes · View notes

illvmii · 9 months

Text

Home For The Weekend.

DBF!Miguel x FEM!Reader, NSFW!! READ WITH CAUTION!!

TAGS: DBF!Miguel, Nsfw, a little fluff ig, pining Miguel, I gave you good parents because you deserve it, oral (fem receiving), praise, p in v, unprotected (use protection gang), a little exhibisionism (people are in the house), Miguel is pretty soft in this one, LMK if I forgot anything

A/N: Because I had to swap accounts and all that, I decided to write smut as a sorry (cause I know that’s what most Miguel fans want LMFAO) so here you go!! It’s Dad’s best friend cause GODDD I love DBF Miguel lemme tell ya. Also not proof read (I’m really fucking tired rn I’ll proof read tmr probably)

You’ve been away from home for a good while at this point. Your college really wasn’t all that far away, but you’ve been so freaking busy it’s unbelievable. You called your parents at least three times a week, even at that point you were failing to do so. You were completely overwhelmed and it was awful.

But finally, finally you had a weekend where you were free. You didn’t have anything to do, so you decided to drive home and spend the weekend there. You knew your parents really missed you, so it was the best choice for all of you (plus you’d been killing to taste some of your moms cooking once again).

You had called your father to let him and your mom know you were coming, but were told a very interesting surprise. It was for sure a welcome one, though. Your father’s best bud, Miguel O’Hara, was staying with your parents for a week. Apparently the man’s house got termites which fucking blew chunks for him. But for you… well, aren’t you just lucky?

That man is HOT! We all know it, he’s absolutely stunning. So when you figured you’d be in the same house as him for a whole weekend, your entire stay seemed to get much more interesting.

Of course it was a ‘Look don’t touch’ scenario, you couldn’t even imagine the hell that would let loose if you made a hit on your dad’s best friend. You knew your father and Miguel were super close, they have been since you were a little girl. Miguel and your pops met when you were in third grade, because you were on your schools little soccer team. Miguel was the coach, since his own daughter Gabriella was on it.

You and Gabi actually became pretty good friends, still are to this day. She’s fun to be around and you text her whenever you have the chance. Of course she doesn’t know about the absolutely disgusting thoughts you have about her father on the lonelier nights. You think nobody but you really needs to know those. God forbid if your dad found out.

You haven’t seen Miguel in… what was it? Nearly three years at this point. He didn’t come around the house much after you turned 19 for some reason. Your dad and him always hung out at bars and such. So you haven’t seen him in a long time. The barbecues Miguel always had once a month were strangely on days you had told your dad you weren’t available, either. It’s very strange. You never have had the best of luck with men, so you just assume god is playing a cruel trick on you.

You eventually pulled into your childhood home driveway, the second you entered your mom pulls you to the side and presses kisses all over your face.

“Oh my gosh! It feels I haven’t seen my baby girl in ages! How have you been, honey?!”

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, you smile, “Been good. Busy, as I’ve said on our calls. But finally got some free time!”

Your mother grinned and pulled you into a hug, “I’m so glad your home, sweetheart. The house just isn’t the same without you here.”

“Dad already getting on your nerves, huh?” You snicker, hugging her back tightly.

Your mom chuckles and shakes her head, “He’s still the same ol’ grump. You should have heard him and Miguel when the soccer game was on… my goodness I was worried we were going to get a noise complaint.”

“Are they really that bad? Geez. I know Dad is bad, can’t imagine two of them.”

Your mother chuckles, “Your father is in the living room. Go say hi, hes been waiting for you all day.”

You give her a nod and walk off to the living room to greet your dad. He’s on the couch, so you plop down next to him. “Hey, Dad. How’s it hanging?”

He turns to look at you and bumps your shoulder with his, “There you are, squirt. Where you been for so long, huh? Outgrown us regular people now you’re a big shot at college?”

You smirk at his tease, “Don’t worry. I won’t forget about you. Least not yet.”

He flicks your forehead, chuckling to himself.

“Miguel is out in the pool. You should go say hi.”

Your face immediately heats up. He’s in the god damn pool?! With probably little shorts? Oh god…

You nod and stand from the couch and make your way to the pool. You slide the glass door to the patio open and dear god.

You see Miguel, hes swimming laps in the big pool. As long as you’ve known him, he’s worked out a bunch. No wonder he’s so fucking buff.

Stepping down into the patio area, you send him a wave, “Hey, Mr. O’Hara?”

He pauses his swimming and looks up at you. He flashes a smile, “My god, that you, pequeña?”

Miguel shakes his head to get the excess water out, swimming too the stairs of the pool to get out. You see now that yes, he is in little swim trunks.

He grabs his towel to wipe his extremely chiseled chest down. He smiles at you as he does, “How have you been, chica? I haven’t seen you for a while. Your dad sends me photos of you sometimes, but they really didn’t show off how much you’ve grown.”

You blush as he runs his eyes over you to really take in your growth. “I’ve been okay. College is keeping me busy. How about you? I’ve heard your house has termites.”

Miguel let’s out a loud groan, “Mhm. I could hear them in the walls at night, it was hell. At least they’re getting taken care of now, ‘Eh?”

“Yeah. I could imagine that would be hell,” You add on, not helping the conversation at all. You really couldn’t focus on conversing well. The man who has plagued your mind since you hit puberty is standing right in front of you, wet and in tiny shorts.

Miguel fully dries himself off, “I’ll go in and change, alright? Then we can talk some more.”

He walks off and you follow behind. You sit next to your dad in the living room and patiently (not at all patiently) wait for ‘Mr. O’Hara’.

Miguel walks into the living room wearing some loose shorts and a white t-shirt. He sits on a free chair and looks to your dad, “Man, look how big your girl is now! Can’t even believe it. Can’t believe how big my Gabi is, either.”

Your dad chuckles and groans, “I know, right? Time really flies when you get old.”

Miguel shoots you a smile, “I’m not that old, am I, cariño?”

You shake your head quickly, “Of course not.”

Your father chuckles, “You don’t gotta lie to Miguel, honey! Let him have it.”

Miguel leans forward to smack your father’s shoulder, “Ay! You aren’t young yourself.”

Your father and Miguel banter back and forth for a bit, before the soccer game starts out. They shut up immediately to watch, though once the plays start happening they shout at the TV like mad men. You chuckle whenever they do. It brought back memories of you and Gabriella having a play date and hearing them go nuts over the match in the other room.

After the match, it was dinner time, and holy fuck did it smell good. Your mother knew how to cook man, let me tell you.

You were sat in between your mom and Miguel. Your dad and the hunk were talking about the game, while your mother asked you questions about how college was going. You told her all about it, from the gossip to how the vending machine in the lobby stopped working again, which pissed you off to no end.

While you were talking and ranting about “those damn machines”, you felt a thigh press against yours. You glance down, seeing it was Miguel’s. Strange, because you didn’t remember his chair being this close. You shrug it off and keep talking to your mom.

After dinner you were stuffed, so you head up to your bedroom for the night. You were currently sitting on your old bed, snuggled up all nice and cozy while watching some YouTube. That was until the door creaked open. You figured your mom had done your laundry like the lovely lady she is, but indeed it was Miguel.

He stepped into the room with a soft smile, closing the door behind him, “Hey, pequeña.”

You sit up immediately at the sight of him, plucking your earbuds from your ears, “Hey, Mr. O’Hara. What do you need?”

Miguel sits himself on the edge of the bed, “You can just call me Miguel, sweetheart. Mr. O’Hara makes me feel ancient.”

“Alright, Miguel.” You smile, which makes him chuckle. He looks up at you and speaks;

“We haven’t had much time to speak one on one. I just wanted to catch up with you, hadn’t seen you in a while.”

You tilt your head endearingly, “Yeah, it has been a while. College has kept me from coming home, plus you and dad don’t hang out around the house as much as you used to.”

Miguel’s face actually pinks a little at the statement, to your bewilderment. He scratches his head, “Yeah. Just gettin’ out on the town as you kids say makes us feel young, I guess.”

Cuddling your blankets a bit closer to you, you grin at him, “You really aren’t that old. You had Gabriella decently young, right?”

“I guess so,” He shrugs, “It feels like forever ago, yet also yesterday. Can’t believe my flor pequeña is in college now.”

You nod, “Oh yeah, I can’t believe we’re in college either. Gabriella texts me all about her college days. She rants about her boyfriend constantly, she seems to really like him.”

Miguel groans, “Don’t even get me started on that boy. He is not worth my daughter, not even a little.”

You giggle at his protective nature. You’re positive that no matter who Gabriella dates, Miguel will never deem them as good enough for his daughter.

Miguel looks into your eyes, “So, you got a boyfriend, niña?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t really met the right person,” Which was a total lie, by the way. You’ve gone on dates and met super nice guys, but in your head you constantly compared them to your first crush ever, Miguel. They never shaped up, so it never went anywhere.

His eyes widen, “Really? You’re so beautiful now, I’d figure you’d have tons of boys chasing you.”

The statement makes you blush fiercely, “Ah, no.”

Miguel lets out a thoughtful sigh, “You really have grown into a lovely young woman, you know.”

You blush even harder, “Thank you, Mr. O’Hara.”

He places a hand on yours with a chuckle, “I told you, it’s Miguel.”

“Right. Sorry. Sorry,” You take some deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Miguel sees this and smiles.

“Why so flustered, cariño? Is it because I called you beautiful?”

You end up covering your face to hide said blush from him. Geez, your heart could not take this right now. You were dressed in some baggy Spider-Man pajamas, yet he is calling you beautiful?

“I-I’m not…”

You can’t believe you’re stuttering. The things this man does to you is insane.

Miguel reached a hand forward to take your hands away from your face. He doesn’t remove it, though. He rests it on your cheek.

“Do you want to know why I stopped coming around your house?”

You nod, staring into his chocolate brown eyes.

“It’s because of your 19th birthday. Do you remember it?”

You think back to those years ago. It was a pretty fun party. You got a bunch of friends and family over and swam in your pool. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but just a fun time.

“Yeah. What about it? Did I do something?”

He chuckles and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, “Nah. It’s just me. You… that day, do you remember what your swimsuit looked like?”

You think back again and blush. Not one of your smartest moments, buying a white swimsuit. It looked cute online, the thought of that it was supposed to go in water and get wet not really cementing itself in your head.

“Yeah…”

He nods and chuckles, “I saw you step out of the pool, and rushed over with a towel to cover you up. Remember? Sure, it was because I didn’t want you to expose yourself like that. However, I had a selfish reason.”

You look up and tilt your head a little.

“I didn’t want anyone else to see that part of you.”

“Huh?” Your brows furrow.

He smirks, “I was confused by the thought, too. I left right after the party and went to my house. I figured I’d stop having such strange thoughts after a day… but amor, I haven’t stopped thinking about you once.”

Your eyes widen, “Wh- Huh?”

“You’re so beautiful, I don’t think you understand. You grew into this woman who I admire, not just for your looks. You’re wonderful, absolutely wonderful. You’re kind, you’re thoughtful, you’re funny, you’re perfect. I can’t get you out of my damn head.”

You can’t manage to speak at this point. You stare up at the man in shock as he moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck.

“Please, let me kiss you, niña,” He basically begs, his eyes look full of desperation, “I’ve wanted to do it for years.”

You manage a tiny nod, so he rushes forward to kiss your lips. He holds you very close against him and kisses you hard. He lets out a groan at the contact. His tongue prods at your lips after a while and who are you to refuse such a man? You let him in, letting out a little groan of your own when he explores you.

After what felt like too short, you have to pull away to catch your breath. He doesn’t stop being on you, though. When you pant, he moves to kiss your jaw and neck.

You let out a little groan, “M-Miguel…”

“No good?” He speaks between kisses, “I’ve wanted to touch you for years, you don’t understand…”

You let out a little whimper, a god damn whimper.

“Please, let me touch you. Fuck, please,” He begs again. You manage a small nod once again. He dives back in to keep kissing your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His hands move downwards towards your shirt. He tugs it over your head and moans. His hands immediately reach down to squeeze your tits, and you have to cover your mouth to keep your moans in.

He mumbles out a soft “Fuck…” when he uses his thumbs to glide over your nipples. After a few seconds, he leans down to press kisses all over your soft breasts. He still uses his hands to softly prod at them.

You let out a low whine and he looks up at you, “Be quiet, my girl. Can’t have anyone hearing you.”

You nod and keep covering your mouth as he leans down to keep pressing soft kisses to your chest. After a few moments, he tugs at your bottoms and looks up at you. You nod embarrassingly, and he takes them and your underpants off in one fell swoop.

You hear him audibly choke a breath, which makes you blush more. He manhandles you so your thighs rest on his shoulders, and just goes to town.

You let out a loud yelp when his tongue presses against your clit, so he reaches down and puts his fingers in your mouth to silence you. He keeps his mouth going, sucking on the bud to bring you pleasure.

Miguel pulls back with a long breath, “Tastes so good…”

You whimper against his fingers when he leans down to insert his tongue in you. You cry out as he holds nothing back, forcefully having his way with you.

His one hand that isn’t in your mouth is softly caressing your thigh, which is driving you crazy in its own right. It feels like everywhere he touches you is pure heaven.

Though that one hand leaves after a moment, instead he moves to insert a finger in you. You clamp down on his fingers, which makes him chuckle.

“Feel that good?”

Against his hand, you mumble, “Fingers so thick…”

He smirks and curls his index finger, making your hips buck up and you let out another whine. He can softly hear you beg for more.

He complies, of course. Hes waited for this for years, no way he won’t give his girl everything she wants.

He inserts another finger, moving them around a little until he eventually finds your most sensitive spot. He presses the pad of his fingers up against it suddenly, making you jerk and squirm around.

His mouth dives back down to suck on your clit, which drives you absolutely insane. His fingers in both your mouth and inside you, as well as his skilled mouth was far too much for one woman to handle.

Miguel looks over at one of the thighs placed on his shoulder, seeing it shiver and shake. He breaks away briefly, “Are you close already, amor? You’re so sensitive for me. Have you been wanting my touch too?”

You nod frantically when he lowers his head to your clit again. You cry out, “Uh-Huh! Y-You were my first crush!” Your words were mumbled against his fingers, but he understood them just fine.

He sucks on your clit hard and curls his fingers at the same time, which causes you to let out a moan and your thighs shake more. He breaks away,

“Look at me when you come. Look into my eyes as I make you come. You understand?”

You nod and keep eye contact with him as he inserts a third finger, pressing over and over to your g-spot. He uses his tongue to swirl around your inflated bud at the same time.

His gaze, his mouth, his fingers, it was all far too much. After one harsh suck, you came with a muffled shout.

Miguel drank it all up immediately, seemingly absolutely satisfied to be covered in your juices.

He lets you catch your breath and removes his fingers from your mouth. He also lowers your hips back to the bed, being delicate as he does so he doesn’t hurt you. You were panting very harshly, still coming down from your high.

Everything was a bit fuzzy at the moment. Though you refocused a few seconds later- holy shit.

His shorts have been discarded, along with his shirt. He was naked just as you were, and god damn was he big.

He leans down to press a kiss to your stomach, “You think you can go again? Can you take me, pretty girl?”

You try and speak only to realize that you, in fact, can’t. You settle for a thumbs up, which just makes him laugh softly.

He gives you a few more seconds before aligning himself up with your pretty pussy, pushing himself in agonizingly slow.

You let out another moan, so he quickly puts his fingers in your mouth again to keep you quiet. He really, really did not need your parents who were down in the living room to hear this.

He kept pushing himself in, holding his own groans back. He’d used his hand and imagined how you’d feel in the past, but it was nothing like this. This was perfect.

Once he was in as far as he could go, he stopped and let you get comfortable. Of course it was a battle for him, he was fighting his primal instincts to just take your hard and fast.

You keep letting out the most adorable little whimpers, which even though he’s currently fucking you, make Miguel’s heart melt.

You hum against his fingers, “Ready…”

He nods and begins to move very slowly. He focuses on your face as he watches it contort and squeeze with his movements. You were so pretty when you were experiencing such pleasure, he thought.

He whispers, “Good job, pequeña. Such a good girl for me.”

The praise makes you bite down on his fingers a little. Your hands travel upwards to scratch on his back, too. It was taking all your willpower to not be loud.

He moves a little faster, leaning down to kiss you as he does. He keeps mumbling “My pretty girl” And “So perfect, just for me” as he increases his speed.

He knows he isn’t going to last long. He’s been dreaming about you for years at this point.

He begins to sweat as his hips snap against yours. His free hand moves down to rub on your already abused clit. You grunt on his fingers, pursing your lips against them.

“You gonna come for me again, amor? Come on my cock. Can you do that for me?” He speaks very softly. Both to keep it down, but to also be intimate with you.

You breathe heavily as you feel him pound into you. You can feel tears brimming at your eyes from the sensation.

He licks his thumb and places it back down on your clit, rubbing circles over and over again. At the same time, his hips were slamming against yours. Soon enough, you reached a second orgasm. He let out a moan that was nearly too loud when you did. The sensation was his end, because a few thrusts later he pulled out and came on your stomach.

You and him sat there, panting like you’d just ran a damn marathon. Though after a few minutes, Miguel stands and walks over to your nightstand to get the wipes there. He begins to wipe you of his cum and your sweat, cleaning you off so you can sleep comfortably.

You were so fucking exhausted it was insane. You could barely register as he carefully slid your pajamas back onto you, then changed back into his own clothes.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “If I could sleep in here, I would.”

“Mhm…” You mumble, a little upset he wouldn’t be cuddling you to sleep. But you obviously understood his reasoning.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips,

“Let’s do this again sometime, pequeña.”

Hope you enjoyed you rabid Miguel fans!! Feedback is always welcome. I used spanishdict so please correct any mistakes you see. Reqs open too!!

This was my first time posting anything NSFW on any site ever so I’m sorry if it’s bad LOL

Don’t repost or claim as or own and all that stuff please!! ❤️❤️

#reqs open #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #dbf!miguel #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel x y/n

664 notes · View notes

bouncybongfairy · 7 months

Text

Rickety-Rickety Wrecked

Rick Sanchez x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: After recently getting a job, the illusion that high school status quotes and popularity truly mean nothing. You've been re-evaluating things that once made you bubble with excitement like sneaking out and partying. That being said, your younger sister informs you that she's going to Summer Smith's house party. Starting to feel like a senior citizen, you tag along and encounter Rick Sanchez.

Word Count 3.0k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

As you walked out the doors of the nursing home you worked at. Your hand was lazily searching for the keys that were undoubtedly buried at the bottom of your bag. After opening the car door, you let your body fall into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t just being physically but mentally drained as well. Tossing your purse into the passenger side and start the car. It was Friday and you were excited to finally have an entire weekend off. You couldn’t remember the last time you had any time to yourself. Pulling into the driveway, you weren’t surprised to see that your mom’s car wasn’t home. She works nights but will take every double shift she can get her hands on. You dropped the purse on your bed and immediately went over to shower. Even though you’re a Med-Tech you still will help residents with toileting among other things. While waiting for the water to get hot, you let your dirty scrubs drop onto the floor. The water was scorchingly perfect, you could feel your muscles loosening. Using your nails, you scrub your scalp almost moaning from how nice it felt. The smell of the ‘honey crisp apple’ scented candle was only adding to the relaxation. Unfortunately that all came to a halt when your younger sister barrelled into the bathroom and turned on the harsh fluorescent lights.

“Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed.

“Well sorry, you’re the one hogging the bathroom,” your sister remarked.

“If you were patient and knocked I would have told you that I’m about to be done,” you said.

“No time, Morty invited me to a party that Summer is throwing,” she said which made you throw the current open.

“You’re going to Summer Smith’s party?” you questioned.

“Yeah, I thought you were going to. Morty mentioned that Summer asked you. And plus I kinda already told my friend that you would give us a ride..” she said.

“Girl what the fuck, why would I go to a party after working every day after school all week. Yeah she invited me but I wasn’t planning on going,” you huffed.

“Well, can you still take me?” she asked.

After you got out of the shower you thought about the fact that even your younger sister was going to be at this party. Even though you were still tired from school and the work week, you felt like staying home would just make you feel… pathetic. As soon as you got out of the shower you started getting ready. You haven’t done your makeup in so long that you almost forgot how to apply your lashes. You straightened your hair and threw on a jean mini skirt and a black long sleeve. It was weird looking in the mirror once you were all done up. You liked it though, it made you miss when you didn’t have to worry about work. When you went downstairs to see if your little sister was ready to go, she was equally as shocked at your appearance. After her friend arrived you guys took off to the Smith house. The entire house was completely lit up with lights, teens that were smoking on the roof, and of course, unknown species of life that were slithering and flying around. Your sister pestered you for 20 bucks then ditched you. You entered the house and immediately got greeted by the smell of weed and tobacco. It didn’t bother you too much though, you walked into the living room and immediately saw your old group of friends. They all screamed and ran over to give you a hug. You could tell they were all a little intoxicated.

“What are you doing here, we had no idea you were coming!” Maya said.

“Yeah I had the weekend off so I thought I’d come out,” you said.

“Ever since you started working, I feel like I haven’t seen you in like forever,” Anna said.

“Yeah I know, but it’s nice being able to save money. Especially because I could take some of that responsibility off my mom,” you said.

“Don’t you miss going out though? You were literally about to get asked out by Brad. I mean like, you practically lost your status when it comes to school,” Maya said in a condescending way.

“If my status was based purely on me going to parties and hanging out with girls who are pretending to be drunk then I don’t think I want it. Too obtainable for someone like me, sounds perfect for you though,” you said, giving her a warm smile as you watched her smirk fade from her face.

Now you remember why you stopped going to house parties like this. As you walked around you couldn’t help but notice all the sophomoric conversations going on. Things like bragging about having a roach from their dad’s ashtray. Or boasting about getting to second base with their girl. Honestly, it made you feel a lot older than you are. Making your way into the kitchen, you saw Summer standing there with Trisha. They both greeted you and complemented how you looked, which really lifted your confidence.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, stranger,” Summer said, giving you a red solo cup filled with an unknown liquid.

“Girl you know I started working,” you said, smelling the cup and trying to identify what type of liquor it is.

“Same, honestly ever since I started working at my mom’s shop, I feel like my childhood is officially over,” Trisha laughed.

“God I’m glad I’m not the only one,” you joked back.

“We were about to go up into my room and smoke, you wanna join?” Summer asked which you immediately agreed to.

Her room was really nice, with pink coral walls and a bunch of different posters that covered them. Trisha and you sat down on her bed and Summer walked over and grabbed a bong from under her desk. She grabbed her desk chair so that she could sit in front of you guys. Trisha surprised you and pulled a blunt out from behind her ear. They thought this was your first time smoking but it wasn’t. When you work in a nursing home, sometimes the only thing keeping you sane is your wind-down time at the end of the day. After puffing on those for a bit, Summer pulled out a tray that had a couple of purple almost violet crystals. Without saying a word to each other, the two girls crush up one and then snort it. It took you back at first, the brazenness of how casually they were doing lines was a little jarring, to say the least. When you asked what it was they explained what kalaxian crystals were and what the high was like. Even though it was embarrassing, the factor that sold you was when Summer said they couldn’t be picked up on a drug test. Trisha was holding up the tray and Summer was walking you through what to do.

“So like, when people do lines for the first time, most don’t fully sniff because they are obviously like, intimidated by it. But if you take a small bump then it’ll just burn and you won’t get the full high. So just go full throttle,” she said handing you the straw, the fact that the whites of her eyes were now blue made you nervous.

However, the mix of alcohol and weed in your system was making you ballsy. You close your eyes and take the full line, dropping the straw on the tray and bringing your hands to your nose. As if that would’ve helped the burning sensation. Both girls were giggling as they watched you react, asking every now and then if you were okay. Your entire sinus cavity was not only burning but giving off an unpleasant taste in the back of your throat. The effects were immediate and you felt like you were defying gravity. Like if you really tried you could start floating away. You looked over at the two other girls who were dancing to the stereo Summer had in her room. Without them even noticing, you walked out of her room and made your way downstairs. You felt like everything was moving in slow motion and you were taking in every detail of everything you laid eyes on. The music was so loud that it felt like a heart beating in your ears. Panic and sensory overload were taking over and you could feel your heart began to quicken. After accidentally bumping into a girl, she turns around and tries to snake her arm around your waist. Obviously having a stranger try to grind on you in the midst of a panic attack was the last thing that helped. You broke away and made a B-line to the nearest door. You yanked it open and slammed it shut behind you. You were using your hand to cover your mouth in a sad attempt to stop your hyperventilation.

“Medical emergency detected, blood pressure 148/96 and rising; Medical intervention advised,” a monotone woman’s voice spoke throughout the room.

“Oh my fucking god, I’m fucking hallucinating… I’m overdosing I-I’m about to fucking die,” you have cried have muttered to yourself and you covered your ears.

“You -buhrup- you’re not dying yet, what did you take?” a male’s voice asked. When you looked up, a blue-haired man was standing over you. Wearing brown slacks and black shoes.

“You deaf? What -buhrup- did you take?” he asked again, taking your jaw into his hands and making you look up at him. Your eyes were still blue from the crystals and your jaw was now chattering. You were still crying and breathing heavily.

“I told Summer to stop letting people take bumps of kalaxian. I have something, hold on.

“No- I don’t, I just needed a-a few minutes to catch my breath,” you explained, wiping your eyes and standing up, still leaning against the garage door for support.

“Whatever, you’re lucky I’m trying this whole nice thing,” he said, going back to working on whatever it was sitting on his workbench.

“Sorry,” you said, walking over to his bench and asking if you could sit on the bench. He ignored you but also didn’t protest when you hopped on. Setting your purse down, grab your dab pen and take a puff.

“You sure about smoking that?” he asked.

“Weed is a vasodilator so it probably wouldn’t be the best thing for me right now but it can’t be the worst either,” you said taking another hit.

“Did WebMD teach you that?” he asked.

“No, I learned that from my CNA teacher,” you said.

“HAHA, do you enjoy wiping shit off of saggy balls?” Rick said followed by a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, kinda hot,” you said, taking a drag. He looked at you with his eyebrow cocked which made you burst out into laughter, “you should have seen his face!” You said you are unable to compose yourself. He squinted his eyes, tilted his head down slightly, and scowled at you.

Maybe it was the drugs but the look he gave you made your stomach feel like it was boiling. He again went back to tinkering with his invention. His side profile was strong, his lips were in a frown and he had liquor dripping down his chin. His hands were huge, making a screwdriver look like a pencil. His posture was horrible, practically hunching over the workbench. The blue long-sleeve he wore was slightly tucked into the top of his pants. You were watching his lower stomach rise and lower as he breathed at a very steady rate. He had dark under-eye bags that only added to an angst vibe that radiated off him. You wanted to make a move to indicate that you thought he was attractive but felt insecure. Taking a deep drag from your pen to give you a bit of courage, you kick off your heels.

The sound of them clattering to the floor made Rick look over, he didn’t move but instead shifted his eye to the side to watch you. When he didn’t give you the attention you were craving, you uncrossed your legs and let them hang in front of you. Rick set down what he was working on and turned to face you. Pressing his back into the workbench and just watching you. Biting onto the tip of the pen you take another big drag and blow it between your legs. In turn, he took a swig from his flask, almost like that was his move in this little game you were playing with each other. You set your pen down and pull your skirt up so that the jean material of your skirt was no longer touching the tabletop. Revealing the hip bands on your baby blue thong, he chuckled and walked over to you. He stood about a foot away from you and even though there was still distance between the two, it felt closer. You were intimidated by him and you couldn’t tell if it was turning you on more or not. Extending your leg out, you use your foot and untuck the front of his shirt from his pants. Exposing his happy trail that to your surprise was also blue.

“So the carpet does match the drapes,” you giggle, which quickly turns into a gasp as Rick grabs your ankle and holds it up slightly. He was squeezing it so tightly but this only ignited a need that you didn’t know existed.

“Should have asked if you were so curious,” he said, pulling your leg so that your ass was almost falling off the edge of the table.

He loosened his grip on your ankle and ran his calloused hand up your leg. Once he was close enough, he snaked his hand around your waist. The feeling of his hand touching your lower back made your back arch involuntarily. His crotch was pressed lightly against yours. You were so nervous that your teeth were chattering. His hands were now running up and down your lower back, almost like he was getting off from watching how sensitive you were to his touch. When you looked up, he was already looking down at you. This was something that was new to you and you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands. Trying not to think too hard about it, you dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers. You pressed your nose against him, letting your bottom lip rub against his gently. You start pulling on the end of his shirt, prompting him to take it off. He shook his head in disagreement, so you pull away slightly and take your top off. He laughed and then took his shirt off as well. As if he had a look in his eye that said I’ll show mine if you show yours’. The fact that neither of you had to speak to communicate made you want to throw yourself at him. There were scars littered across his body, you traced one that was on his chest. Moving your fingertips to his arms, still admiring his old battle wounds. He was still watching you even though you weren’t making eye contact with him.

When you finally broke away and looked up at him and couldn’t help but admire him. His frown lines, how dark his eyes were, and how his hair was sticking out in all directions. You smashed your mouth against him, unable to bear waiting any longer. He was such a good kisser, not messy and sloppy like the ones you’ve had before. He was aggressive but not overbearing, you wrapped your legs around his waist. Running your hands through his hair and around his neck. He moved his hands to his hips and began grinding against you. Your lips were starting to feel raw from how long he’d been biting and kissing. Moving your hands down to his pelvis you try unbuckling his belt. When he pulled away from you, a trail of saliva connected by the both of your bottom lips followed. He pulled down the front of his pants, exposing his dick. You pulled your panties to the side and he didn’t waste any time reaching down to feel how wet you were. He let out a hoarse moan, and let his forehead fall onto your shoulder. At this point you were aching with anticipation. Unwilling to take his teasing anymore, you reach down and line up his tip with your entrance. He takes the hint and moves his hands back to your hips for support. Slowly he started pressing into you, his mouth was slightly hung open. There was a slight stinging from how big he was but because he was starting slow, that feeling soon faded. He took a step forward once he was fully pressed into you.

He kept himself buried inside of you for a while while kissing your neck. Sucking hickies and leaving bite marks all the way down to your shoulder. He slowly started rocking himself back and forth. You attach yourself to his neck, wrapping your arms around his neck and moan as he slides in and out. You were trying to buck your hip up in order to meet him halfway with his thrusts. Watching his facial expressions as he pounded into you was making you feel euphoric. Everytime you tightened around his shaft you could see his face scrunch in pleasure. At this point he was pounding viciously into you, your walls were becoming sensitive. You were sure that he was getting close because he was getting more aggressive. His thrusts were getting more sporadic, he reached up and grabbed a fist full of your hair. Forcing your head back, exposing your neck allowing him to continue marking you up.

You were whimpering every time his length pressed completely inside you. His face was red from how much he was exerting himself. Your arms were wrapped around his neck so he grabbed you from underneath your knees and pressed you against the wall. The change in position was enough to send you over the edge, going limp slightly as your pussy spasmed around his cock while you came. He let his entire body weight press against you as he came inside you. As you were cumming, you could feel his throbbing member spurting inside of you. When he pulled out he took his shaft into his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your folds. Enjoying the feelings of your warmth and swollen core. He set you back down on the top of his work station. You were still cross faded and don’t think you could walk even if you wanted to. Barely being able to keep your eyes open you use your arm as a pillow to ‘rest your eyes’ for a few moments.

Rick zipped his pants up and went to leave the garage, knowing you’d probably leave once you woke up. Maybe it was the recent encounter with Unity that made him feel like a douche. As if having careless sex with you was only proving her point that you were a bad guy. He took a deep breath and stood in front of the door for a while before turning around. Grabbing your purse, he took your wallet and looked for the address on your ID. After punching it into his portal gun and creating the green entryway to your house. He picked you up bridal style and carried you through the portal. He used his foot to move the covers over and set you down on your bed. Leaving your purse and shoes on the floor next to you before leaving.

#rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez smut #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez imagine #season 7 rick sanchez #rick and morty spoilers #rick and morty fandom #rick and morty season 7 #rick and morty season 7 fanfic #rick sanchez season 7 #smut fanfiction #rick sanchez smut fanfic #smut writing

581 notes · View notes

stillmonsterz · 1 month

Text

it's gonna get better (teaser)

(this is the final part to brave it together)

pairing: jay x reader genre: suggestive, angst, slight humor summary: your tumultuous tryst with jay might have ended, but your relationship with the karma club and its members has only grown more entangled. a winter trip to the swiss alps tests your friendships, your willingness to lie, and your resolve in staying away from jay. despite your previous inclinations towards isolation, you're starting to realize, a little too late, that being around people isn't too bad. content: drinking, drug usage, sexual themes, rape mentions, murder mentions, suicide mentions, threats, more to come. estimated word count: 20k

taglist: @moon7jay @belowbun @bambangan @praliliaaa @jjklvr9 @iveivory @magicshop1913 @sseobonggs (if i forgot you, please let me know!)

It took you until evening to gain even a semblance of your composure. You had spent some time working on your scarf, mindlessly purling and knitting. You had tried to watch a movie, but your eyes grew unfocused. Finally, you had decided to lie on your bed as you did at the motel, staring at your ceiling. If you focused, you could still smell Jay's woodsy, spicy scent, as though it had permeated the very walls of your room.

When dinnertime approached, you stripped down to your underwear and examined yourself in the mirror. Your body was a patchwork of fresh skin and mottled bruises that Jay had given you over the past month. When you raised your arm, you could see the nail marks he had made. As usual, bright red hickeys adorned your neck. You’d have to cover them up again so no one would get any ideas.

Then you realized that this was the last time you’d have to cover up a mark that Jay had given you. After this, the evidence of what the two of you had had would fade away, your cells would replenish, and it would be as though he had never touched you in the first place.

It didn’t seem right, that you and Jay were finished. At any second, as you rummaged around in your closet for an outfit to wear, you imagined that Jay would burst inside of your room, demanding something. He’d lie on your bed again, smoking your cigarettes while complaining about how they tasted. He’d tell you that he had been joking, that he had never intended to leave you, that you were his. He would kiss you again, choking you in his grip.

Instead, the minutes dragged on, and Jay never showed up. You pinched the inside of your arm and once again, you didn’t feel a thing. Just a dull register of a sensation.

After you got dressed in your usual sweater and long skirt, you checked your phone. You had gotten a text from Riki.

Riki: how’s my favorite traitor 😂

You: Not a traitor. Didn’t betray anyone.

Riki: when you give me an explanation for saying one of my friends raped you in a group chat literally called “anti-kc”

Riki: then you can be not a traitor

You had to admit, the evidence against you was stacked.

Riki: are u ready yet

Riki: i’m hungry

Riki: i’m thinking i’ll get the “she lied” salad with the “our friendship is ruined” combo

Riki: the “i can’t believe i was going to take her to cliffside laser tag” meal

You: That was never going to happen.

Riki: stop

Riki: haven’t u done enough

Riki: maybe a side of “lying wench” chips

You: Are you done?

Riki: not even close.

You: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Riki: good

Riki: that’s plenty of time

Riki: the “hoes mad” burger with the “she’s a bird” fries

Riki: crisp waffle fries with extra salt

Riki: ketchup representing the shed blood

He kept going on like that, so you turned your phone off. It bothered you that you couldn’t tell Riki the truth. Well, you could. But if you told him that Jay raped you, and Riki somehow found out that you had been hooking up with Jay for the past month, you would look insane. Or like an idiot. How could you explain something that you didn't even understand? No, you’d rather have Riki hate you than tell him the convoluted truth.

You were used to Karma Club members hating you, anyways.

–

Dinner with Jake and Riki at Stoker’s cafeteria was as insufferable as you had imagined. Bundled under a coat and a high-necked sweater that masked the marks made last night, you wordlessly ate your meal while Riki and Jake talked. Riki sat on the right side of you, jostling you whenever he would gesticulate wildly as he recounted some story. You weren’t really paying attention to anything he said. Your focus was on Jake, on the way he bit his lip as he looked between you and Riki.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jake said slowly, setting his fork down, “but are you and Wednesday, uh…”

Riki winced, and you marveled at his acting prowess. “It sort of just happened,” Riki said. “ We were at the party, and she came to see me, and well, I just went for it. It wasn’t like I meant to steal your girl or anything.

“No, no, no,” Jake said, waving his hands furiously. “No, it’s fine. She wasn’t my girl, never was, never…haha. You guys are cute together, honestly. Same age and everything.” Nervously, he started folding his paper towel into small, neat squares.

“No, I really should have told you,” Riki lied, swallowing a bite of chicken breast.

“It’s cool,” Jake said through gritted teeth. “Why would I want to know if my best friend and the girl I, uh, know, have a thing? That’s none of my business.”

“Glad you understand,” Riki said, beaming at Jake.

Jake got up from the table. “Gonna take a leak,” he muttered before staggering away from the long bench.

As soon as Jake disappeared from view, Riki’s face fell.

“What are you doing?” you asked. “Why are you telling Jake we’re together?”

Riki leaned towards you so that he could whisper. The Stoker dining hall was relatively full at this hour, mainly by students from other dorms, and you were beginning to learn that there were eyes and ears all over Sadame University. “Because,” he began, voice thick with anticipation, “things were getting way too dicey in our dorm. “For whatever reason, things between Jake and Jay got worse after last night. Jake’s skittish as fuck, and Jay’s acting like he wants to kill Jake. I figure this has something to do with you.”

You winced.

“It’s no good,” Riki continued. “Jake’s been going to Jungwon’s room and pacing around and shitting himself and whatever. Remember how I told you that there has to be a balance to shitstirring?”

“I do recall that.”

“This is it,” he said. Riki used his hands to mimic a scale, one hand representing a plate dipping too low. “Right now, tensions are too high. That’s no fun, you know? So I have to even things out.” Riki brought both of his hands to the same level. “If I redirect their attention, make myself the target, then they’ll both hate me instead. But they like me, so nothing bad will happen.”

With your index finger, you pressed down on the palm of one of his hands, forcing it downwards. “What if something bad does happen to you?”

Riki pushed against your finger, steadying his hands once more. “It won’t. I know you and everyone else loves to pretend like the Karma Club members have their own special brand of evil, that we’re just, like, complete sociopaths, but I know them.”

“It’s been three months…”

“A lot can happen in three months,” Riki said. If you reflected on the path your life had taken in merely one month, you would be forced to agree with him.

You pulled your hand away from his and sighed. “Why do you like bad things so much? What about good things?”

“That’s not true,” Riki said. “I love good things. I like bad things too. I’m a very deep person.”

“As deep as a kiddy pool,” you said.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Riki said. “I’m still mad at you for trying to fuck us over.”

You thought about arguing with him, but you decided against it. Riki felt like a true friend to you - at least, he had felt like a true friend - but the thought of baring your soul to him only for him to be unreceptive to your sorrows made you feel sick. You pushed your plate of food away.

“You know, for a while there I almost thought Jay had like a weird thing for you,” Riki said offhandedly, cutting another piece of chicken breast and spearing it with a fork. “I know, I know, it doesn’t make much sense considering he hates your fucking guts. But the dedication with which he hates your guts was scary. Elite hatred. What did you even do to the guy, anyways?”

“Nothing,” you said, “which seems to be the problem.”

Riki chewed his food, staring into space with a thoughtful expression. “He still hasn’t brought Isa over,” Riki said.

“Maybe you just haven’t noticed,” you said. Memories of that night with him in his dorm room, sex tinged with a faint hint of romance, your limbs tangled together in post-coital bliss, spun through your mind.

“No, he explicitly said, ‘Don’t let that bitch Isa get near my room or I swear to God I’ll kill you all,’” Riki said, mimicking Jay’s voice perfectly.

You shrugged. “I don’t know, then.”

“I just always found it weird,” Riki said slowly, “I’ve never seen him be nice to her at all, besides when I would come to the library to pick you up to get a smoothie and I would see them flirting or whatever. Isn’t that so weird? Like, why would Jay get close to Isa in public? Specifically, at the library.”

The hickeys still marring your neck felt as though they were burning, and you scratched at them absentmindedly. “Yeah, weird…”

“Hey,” Riki said in an unusually light voice. “How did you get home last night?”

Riki’s long bangs had fallen into his face, obscuring his eyes. For the best, as you didn’t know how you’d be able to look into them. “What?”

“How’d you get home?” Riki repeated.

“Uber and a bus,” you said.

Riki nodded and leaned away. “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Jake asked. He swung his legs over the bench and settled into his spot again.

“Interesting she’s okay with us sharing a room, considering she’s just so, so shy,” Riki said, putting his arm around you in a constricting half-embrace. “The third-floor bedroom has two single beds, right?”

Jake’s lips twitched. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “It does. Jungwon and I were thinking about taking that one, though.”

Riki waved his free hand dismissively. “Just sleep together, Powerpuff girls style.”

“Fuck off,” Jake said with a smile, playfully pushing at Riki.

“You’re going to knock your soup over,” you said, but it was too late. Jake’s chicken noodle soup sloshed over the table, staining the crisp, white tablecloth.

“Aw, man,” Jake said, pouting slightly.

Riki shoveled the last of his chicken breast into his mouth. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “This is the second tablecloth we’ve fucked up.”

“Third,” Jake said, picking bits of pasta off of himself. “When we left Sunoo alone with the chili and he fucking-,”

Riki laughed. “Oh shit, yeah.” Riki stood up and held his hand out towards you, his gaze imploring. Reluctantly, you loosely joined hands with him, and he pulled you to your feet. “Come on, let’s go watch the Scream movies.”

“No,” Jake whined. “I wanted to watch the Amazing Spiderman.”

“No one asked,” Riki said, pulling you along with him. You stumbled after him, disappearing into Stoker’s dorms. Despite yourself, you scanned every possible corner for a hint of Jay, a trace of his breath, the sound of his sardonic laughter.

He wasn’t around.

–

Halfway through the second Scream movie, Riki announced that he had to take a massive shit.

“And why did you choose to tell us that?” Jake asked, slapping Riki’s leg as he got up from his plush bed.

Riki shrugged, shimmying between piles of laundry he had left on the floor. “I thought you might need to know about my bowel movements.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, that’s up to you,” Riki said, leaving to use his ensuite.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Jake scrambled on top of the bed to sit next to you. He had been sitting cross-legged on the floor; Riki had insisted that you sat next to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jake asked.

“Tell you what?”

Jake gestured wildly. “That you had a crush on Riki. I guess I could have guessed, but like, come on. Instead, you sort of made me feel like, I don’t know, I might have had a chance at some point…”

Had you? “Uh, it sort of came out of nowhere,” you said, belatedly realizing that you had copied what Riki said almost verbatim.

Pushing his tousled hair back, Jake licked his lips and sighed. “Right. Right, yeah. It’s just that I feel like kind of a dick now.”

“You didn’t do anything,” you said awkwardly.

“I mean, I don’t want to seem like I’m being pushy or that I’m entitled to anything, but you could have told me. Or Riki could have told me. I mean, like, you guys were pretty close and everything, but I didn’t think he was into dating…”

The name “Sieun” came to your lips, until you remembered that no one knew that Riki had dated Sieun. “Well-,”

“Like, you didn’t lead me on, I knew you had your own issues and all to sort out, but if you were going to date one of my best friends, I think it’s only fair to tell me. You know, out of…respect for my feelings? And so it wouldn’t be like I was hitting on my friend’s girl.”

If this was how Jake reacted to the mere idea of you and Riki getting together, you didn’t want to know how he’d react if he found out about you and Jay. “Sorry, Jake.”

Jake sighed again, his entire being seeming to deflate. “It’s fine, whatever. It’s cool.” After a period of silence, Jake said, “I don’t even care, you know? I mean, it wasn’t like it was serious. Like I like you and all, but it wasn’t serious.”

“Right.” Then you recalled what he had said at the party, when he had came out of the bathroom so flustered. “You said you had something to tell me, back at the party?”

“Oh. Yeah, that.” Jake slowly made his way to the floor again, one knee tucked into his chest, the other leg spread straight. He looked at the plasma-screen TV mounted to Riki’s wall blankly. “Well, I was going to ask you to go on the KC trip with me. I was going to pay for everything, but I guess Riki is going to take you now…”

You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see you. “Yeah.”

Jake bobbed his head up and down slowly, his lips pursed together. “Cool.”

When Riki came back, Jake stood up as though being pulled by strings. “I’m gonna head in,” Jake muttered. “I’m still a little hungover.”

Riki clapped Jake on the back. “See you, Jake.”

Jake made a little wave, bid you goodnight, and left Riki’s bedroom. Riki sat down beside you and smiled. “So, what’d you guys talk about?”

“He had an episode,” you said flatly.

“Perfect,” Riki said. “It’s all going according to plan. Now get out of my room.”

You didn’t have to be told that twice. “Good night,” you said, gathering your long skirt up and standing.

“Good night,” Riki said, zipping his hoodie all the way up and covering his jet-black hair with his hood. “I mean, just night. Bad night. I hope your night is shit.”

You squinted at him. “You’re really bad at this.”

Riki had turned the lights out to fit the gloomy atmosphere of the movie, but you could make out his features via the light from the television. Suddenly, he looked older than his age. “I’m bad at it because I genuinely liked you a lot,” he said quietly. “I saw you as a friend, like a real friend. Everyone knows I really liked you. But you lied on one of my friends, and not something petty. You lied about something really fucked. I thought you’d be above doing something like that. It’s something… something I would probably do.”

“Riki-,”

He pointed at the door. “Out, before I lose my nerve.”

You wouldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t respect you at all if he knew what you did with the man who sexually assaulted you.

With some horror, you realized that Riki didn’t know that Jake had a problem. If Riki kept pushing Jake, who knew what he would do? The only thing you could do is trust that Riki knew how to balance the scales of his bizarre game.

The walk to Fawcett left you with far too much time to reflect. You knew that you had never fully had Jay, that he wouldn’t allow you to possess him in a tangible form. But you hadn’t realized that you would lose your friend, too.

#enha smut #kpop fanfiction #enhypen smut #jay smut #kpop smut

151 notes · View notes

lucienarcheron · 1 month

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones - XVIII

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.

shoutout always goes to @abruisedmuse for letting me ramble about my babies.

tagging: @climb-the-mountian @vanserrass @zenkindoflove @animezinglife @readthelastpaage @positivewitch @clockwork-ashes @carolynmezzosoprano @carnythian @runningwiththeoceans @readychilledwine @goldenmagnolias @thedarkinmansfield @mali22 @maidr-00 @electromagnetic-waves @devilsfoodcake22 @moonfawnx @weesablackbeak @ladywhilemia @alohaangels @moobell55 @bibliophiliaxvignette @easchies @feysandfeels @thelovelymadone @corcracrow @dawneternal @teddyhoneybear @sinnerrsworld @gracie-rosee @queenoftheworld1998

Find it all here.

Lucien stood across from his brother in the open field by his home, Elain’s garden a beautiful backdrop behind them as he waved his hands towards Eris.

“Care to explain what the hell that was about?” Lucien asked, bewildered.

Eris only snarled and paced past his brother. He needed an outlet, not questions. He needed a moment because he was making a downright fool of himself.

“What is the matter with you?” Lucien demanded, brows raised high as Eris paused and glared at him.

“I need to hit something.” he spat and resumed his pacing as Lucien eyed him in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

Eris paused his frantic pacing and then squinted at his brother. “You. Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes. I am your older brother, you are obligated to listen to me.”

“The only thing I am obligated to do is mildly tolerate you.” Lucien replied with a snort. “Which I’m barely doing as it is. I am not going to be your punching bag because you won’t deal with whatever it is you’re feeling.”

Eris narrowed his eyes, hands twitching at his sides. Never mind there was dried blood on one. The hand that Iris had wanted — he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Fucking ridiculous.

“Fine.” Eris said and squared his shoulders. “I will allow you to punch me first so then I can hit you after.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “No. Elain said no fighting before you came. I know you’re used to your wife being mad at you but I can’t sleep if Elain’s upset with me.”

Eris immediately tensed. “Don’t talk about my wife.”

Lucien blinked then slowly grinned. “Oh.” he said. “I see.”

“See what?” Eris snapped.

Lucien’s grin widened and he rubbed his hands together. “Gods, I’ve been waiting for this moment.” he cackled. “You’re being such a little bitch right now, I knew this would happen.”

Eris growled then slid a hand down his face before his hands clenched into fists. “Oh fuck right off, alright?” he snarled. “Don’t say a word.”

“A word about what? Your wife?”

“Lucien.” he snarled in warning.

“All I said were the words ‘your wife’. I haven’t actually said anything about Iris.” Lucien said calmly, watching his brother and mustering the most innocent of expressions.

“Lucien.”

Lucien’s lips twitched and he held up his hands as he waited silently.

After a few tense moments, Eris finally mumbled, “We had a moment.”

“Did you now?” Lucien asked in an amused tone that Eris did not appreciate.

“We had a moment and —,” he grumbled quietly then sighed and ran a hand through his hair once more. “We would’ve had another moment if you hadn’t interrupted — we had a moment and — and things happened.”

Lucien blinked and slowly put a hand on Eris’ shoulder with a look that had Eris immediately regretting ever opening his mouth.

“Brother dearest,” Lucien began in a sympathetic tone that was as fake as it gets. “Has it been so long since you’ve had an erection that you forgot what it feels like?”

Eris snarled and finally swung at his brother but Lucien ducked with a laugh.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” he said and Eris settled for shoving him with a glare then resumed his pacing. “This is serious then.”

“This is very serious.”

“I see.” Lucien said and held out his hands again. “I’m sorry. I won’t make fun. Talk to me.”

Eris scowled, warily watching his brother then resumed his silent pacing.

After a few moments, Lucien sighed. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the issue is, Eris.”

It took Eris a few more moments of silent pacing before he finally ran his fingers through his hair again, took a deep breath then sighed. “Aside from my erection,” he said with a glare at his brother. “It — something — it has never felt like that before.”

Lucien nodded knowingly. “That’s because you like her.”

“I have liked other females!”

“Yes, but as we’ve said before, you like her and she’s your wife. It’s different.”

Eris rolled his eyes up to the sky and then huffed, pacing once more. Lucien had no idea just how different this was.

But did he tell Lucien? He hadn’t discussed it with Iris yet — he wasn’t even sure if she knew. Had she picked up on it or was this another thing he was shoving at her? She’d already been forced to marry him. How would she take it if she knew he was her mate? Knowing how he was. Who he was. He had told her once that he wouldn’t shackle her to him if she wanted out but…would he still be able to let her go if that was what she truly wanted? When she was his and he was hers in a way that trumped everything else?

He glanced at Lucien who stood with his arms crossed, calmly watching him. Though Eris was annoyed by the mild amusement on his brother’s face, it gave him pause. If there was anyone who had been hit on the head with a mate, it had been his brother. Lucien would understand.

Eris grimaced, letting it fall silent for a few minutes as Lucien watched him. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, the sound of laughter stopped him and the brothers turned to glance at their wives strolling towards the garden. He watched as Iris walked with Elain, smiling, and he had a very strong urge to stab himself.

“In all honesty, I never thought this would happen.” he finally said, turning back to Lucien with a frown. “I never thought anyone would be…enough to be what she is to me right now.”

Lucien shook his head with a snort. “You are so fucken full of yourself.” he replied and pointed. “Iris is a much nicer person than you are.”

Eris snorted. “You say that but you haven’t heard the way she threatens me.”

“Do you deserve those threats?”

Eris pursed his lips, trying not to think of the strangest sense of delight he felt whenever she did point a blade at him. “Not always.”

Lucien gave him a knowing look. “You definitely deserved them,” he confirmed, then shook his head. “Despite this arrogant and very stupid belief of yours, you aren’t above everyone else, Eris.”

“That’s not — I meant that I would be enough to have something like this happen.” he seethed and Lucien quirked a brow.

“Marriage was bound to happen,” Lucien replied mildly. “You knew this was coming at some point.”

“Okay, but I didn’t ask for this.” Eris hissed, pointing towards the gardens where his — his whatever walked. “Do you know how much harder this will make everything? How much worse?”

This seemed to finally get Lucien to sober up, his expression turning serious. “What do you mean?”

And it was as Eris stared at Lucien, the weight of his discovery today fell on him like a ton of bricks and his expression fell.

If his father found out…she lived inside the court with him. In very close proximity to the High Lord. Eris swallowed. Their situation was far from ideal and it was taking everything in him to make it work. To keep it easy. To keep Iris safe. His father would wield the mating bond against him in ways Eris couldn’t even begin to imagine. It could go very badly.

“Eris?”

Eris glanced at his brother and slowly moved, until he stood directly in front of him, his expression lethally calm.

“I need to know what I tell you will not be told to a soul. Elain is the only exception and only when I give you permission.” he commanded and Lucien’s brows furrowed.

“Okay.”

“No one, Lucien.”

“You have my word.”

Eris swallowed and assessed his brother. He never would’ve dreamed of this moment.

“If I ever need to send Iris to you, tell me she would be safe here.” he said quietly. “Promise me that she will not be in harm's way.”

Lucien tilted his head, turning to briefly glance towards the gardens once more, where Elain and Iris were whispering together, giggling at something they couldn’t hear. “Your wife will always have a place here, Eris. Why?” he asked and Eris licked his lips, bracing himself to say the words that hadn’t left his mouth yet.

His head turned, finding Iris seated among the flowers. It took him a moment but finally, after a breath, he whispered, “She’s...my mate.”

Eris felt Lucien stiffen and turned to find his brother blinking rapidly. A beat of silence passed then his brother spoke.

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“That...shit.”

“You’re only verbalizing what’s been going on in my head since I found out.” Eris said and watched Lucien’s expression shift from shock to amusement.

“When did you find out?”

“Five minutes before you ungraciously interrupted us.”

Lucien went silent for a few moments as Eris stood tensely across from him, then shook his head and huffed out a laugh. “Wait — wait. I’m sorry.” he began then let out another laugh. “You.”

Eris immediately scowled. “Yes?”

“You — you, who had refused to marry for so long.” Lucien started and Eris’s scowl deepened.

“And?”

“You literally threw a tantrum when fa — your father told you to get married.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “I didn’t throw a tantrum.” he grumbled and Lucien let out another laugh.

“You sat in my kitchen and blacked out from drinking.”

Eris waved a hand with a growl. “Your point?”

“Mister ‘I don’t want a wife, no female is good enough for me’,” Lucien continued with a grin. “You, who won’t even admit to liking his dogs enough —”

“— I don’t see the point of what you’re saying —”

Lucien gave his brother an incredulous look that Eris did not appreciate. “Do you realize how emotionally constipated you are? How emotionally constipated you’ve always been?” Lucien said and finally, let out a loud laugh. “Oh gods. This is amazing.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Eris snarled. “This is serious.”

“Oh my gods. You have so many feelings you don’t even know what to do with yourself.” Lucien went on with a cackle. “You barely had it together when she was just your wife!”

“I know!” Eris snapped and waved a hand. “Do you see my problem now?!”

“Oh…oh I see.” Lucien said and at the murderous look in Eris’s eyes, said nothing else, his lips only twitching.

Eris said nothing as well, seething at Lucien’s reaction.

“This is not funny.” he said forcefully. “I am constantly thinking about throwing myself off the highest building. Now I definitely want to.”

“Oh, I bet.” Lucien replied with a wide grin. “This is fucken hilarious. She touched your thigh and you broke a glass. It’s all over my floor.”

“Lucien.” Eris snarled and Lucien finally held his hands up, clearing his throat.

“Right. I’m sorry.” his brother said. “I had to get that out of my system.”

Eris only glared at him and watched Lucien’s lips twitch again.

“You’re the fucken worst.” Eris finally mumbled and Lucien let out a low chuckle.

“Yet, you told me first.” he replied smugly and Eris rolled his eyes. “Besides, this calmed you down without resorting to violence.”

Eris blinked. This asshole.

“Violence is still very much on the table.” Eris grumbled and hated to admit that maybe, just maybe, Lucien was right. He was somewhat…less on edge. Maybe. Slightly.

The corner of Lucien’s mouth ticked up. “Overwhelming, isn’t it?”

“I want to kill myself.”

“You’re so dramatic, dear gods.” his brother said and Eris scowled when Lucien shoved his shoulder gently. “Listen closely — pay attention to what I’m going to say to you.”

Eris grimaced as Lucien placed both hands on his shoulders and met his gaze. “I’m uncomfortable.”

“I said listen and shut the fuck up.”

“That is rude.”

“You love the sound of your own voice and I personally hate it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Thank you.” Lucien said and patted Eris’s shoulder aggressively. “Now listen. This is a good thing.”

“No, it’s not.” Eris said immediately. “This is terrible. I already care too much. This is so much worse.”

“It is not. Iris is good for you and you are good for her.” Lucien said calmly. “I’ve watched how you’ve changed since she came into your life. You had no joy until she showed up and it’s made a difference in you.”

“I also have a lot more stress.” he muttered and Lucien chuckled.

“That’s because you’re an idiot.” Lucien said and Eris resisted the urge to flip him off as he continued. “You’ve needed something real like this for as long as I’ve known you and this is as real as it gets.”

“But —”

“She challenges you and settles you all at once.” his brother said and Eris swallowed. “She is your person and she is real. This is real.”

Eris grimaced again and looked away from his brother towards the garden again, where his wife — his mate was. “My father will make this so much worse.”

Lucien stepped back and gave Eris a look. “Are you going to let him?” he asked and Eris snapped his gaze to his brother, hot anger flaring in his chest and before he could control himself, his fire erupted around him, every part of him aflame.

“I will kill him if he so much as looks at her wrong.” his words were guttural, so angry he could barely get them out. “I will skin him alive. I will make up for everything he has ever done to me and mother if he so much as —”

Lucien held up a hand with a small smile. “Exactly. So calm down.” he said gently. “She’s safe with you.”

Eris blinked, the fire around him dampening and he let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as flame licked his skin. He shook his head and began his pacing once more. “Is that enough? I don’t — I won’t put anything past him if he finds out. I’ve seen what he does to people. I know what he does.”

“Then he doesn’t find out.” Lucien said firmly. “I assume your other brothers have had zero interaction with her?”

Eris waved a hand. “They have asked but I haven’t allowed it. You know how they are. They stay out of my way until needed.” he said. “But father…”

Lucien nodded then shrugged. “What is going to give it away? Your scents? You’re married, no one will think twice.”

“He already knows I like her too much.”

“You’re good at pretending. So is Iris from what you’ve told me.” Lucien said and gave him a pointed look. “Keep pretending until you don’t have to.”

Eris nodded slowly even though this type of pretending would be excruciatingly different from anything else he had to do before. He ran his tongue over his teeth and took a deep breath, his fire disappearing. He hesitated for a heartbeat then said, “She doesn’t know.”

Lucien froze, his eyes widening. “What?”

Eris swallowed then shook his head. “I don’t think she knows. I — we — I haven’t asked her yet.”

Lucien shook his head, shoving Eris away from him, and pointed sternly. “You shouldn’t have told me until you told her.”

“You pulled me aside and asked me what was wrong.” Eris snarled. “This — this is what’s wrong.”

Lucien’s lips thinned. “Eris —”

“I don’t know what to do or — or how to behave.” he swore. “I didn’t ask for this and she sure as shit didn’t either.”

“That’s the funny thing about mates…neither of you really ask for it.” Lucien said gently and Eris groaned.

“And what if she doesn’t want this?” Eris asked, trying and failing to hide the hint of desperation in his tone. What if she doesn’t want me that way? “What then?”

Lucien’s expression softened and he nudged Eris. “I think you’ll find that being married helps ease that concern,” he said calmly. “You’ve managed to figure things out so far. You just need to tell her and go from there.”

Eris grunted and shook his head. “This is more than she bargained for. She’s barely begun to like me.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “From my perspective, a person who has only seen you two interact with each other for a few hours, I don’t think you should be as concerned as you are right now,” he said. “Just talk to her. And tell her you told me.”

Telling her would be fine. He would tell her. Of course, he would. But…they couldn’t — shouldn’t tell anyone else.

It would be fine. This was just an overwhelming moment. It would be fine.

He sighed and for once, just this once, let his true feelings spill from his lips. “I’m so fucken tired of pretending.” He rubbed his face and said through gritted teeth. “I can’t — I can’t even be happy about this. All I am is stressed. I’m exhausted.”

Lucien’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I know.” he said quietly.

He shook his head and let it fall back, his gaze at the open sky. “I’ve been on the edge for so long.” he said quietly. “Her father came for a visit today and I beat the living shit out of him. I would’ve killed him had Iris not stopped me.”

“Did he deserve it?” Lucien asked and Eris glanced at his brother, at the hard gaze full of understanding. Eris didn’t have to explain what kind of creature Iris’s father was.

“More than.” he replied. “But I haven’t lost control in so long…I suppose it makes sense given what I know now.”

“Do you think your father will have a problem with it?”

Eris shrugged. “We’ll have to see when I get back, won’t we.”

“Eris…” Lucien started but Eris shook his head and it fell silent between them.

He closed his eyes and thought of anything but his father. He thought of his mother finding her spark again. He thought of his hounds. He thought of the brother standing next to him and his sister-in-law who cared for him. Most importantly, he thought of his wife and the way she trusted him. How she smiled for him and what that smile did to him.

Even if he didn’t deserve an ounce of happiness, he was allowed a moment. A day to be happy with his wife. To guard his little secret as close to his shredded heart as much as he could.

“I won’t let him find out.” He swore quietly, straightening.

“No, you won’t.”

Eris licked his lips, his gaze falling back to the house. “And if he does?”

“Then maybe it’s time the Autumn Court finally gets a new high lord.” Lucien said simply, his gaze hardening. “It’s been long overdue.”

Eris gazed at his brother carefully. “That is easier said than done.” he said then looked away, with a shake of his head. “Besides, you know that move is not mine.”

Lucien shrugged. “When the time comes, it doesn’t matter who makes the move. It matters that it’s done. You owe him a taste.”

Eris closed his eyes, trying not to let the image of his sword lodged in his father’s throat linger for too long. After a quiet moment, he asked, “Until then?”

“My home will always be a safe space for Iris and you.” Lucien said gently. “You know Beron would never dare come here.”

Eris swallowed and nodded again. It would be fine. It wouldn’t need to come to this but a plan never hurts.

Lucien gave Eris one more look then turned to face his home, his eyes on the distant figures of his wife and sister-in-law. “Things will be fine.” his brother said calmly. “You have me. I’m here.”

“Albeit unwillingly?” Eris said, the corner of his mouth lifting, and Lucien chuckled.

“Obviously. I can’t stand you.”

Eris rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to where Lucien looked. They were too far to see clearly but Eris…he felt Iris. He felt a tug of joy at his ribcage. Something that would certainly take getting used to.

Then again he had always felt that pull towards her. Now, he knew what it meant.

Lucien slid his hands in his pockets with a small smile and said, “Elain says your wife is amazing and she’ll rip your throat out if you upset her.”

Eris snorted. “She’ll rip my throat out herself, no worries.”

“She also said we should come back.” Lucien added and spared Eris one more knowing glance. “Will you be able to handle yourself or should I expect more shattered glass on my floor?”

Eris shot his brother a dirty look and refused to feel embarrassed. He would not flush. “Fuck off.”

Lucien only chuckled.

Iris looked up as she sensed Eris approaching. Her gaze had found him constantly as she and Elain explored outside; like a thread being pulled. She couldn’t help herself. She almost felt guilty about it but then she noted the anger radiating off him. The way his fire had erupted around him again and it made her nervous. She wasn’t sure if she was the cause.

She wasn’t sure exactly how to feel at the moment. Excited? Overwhelmed? Nervous? Today had certainly been a lot but — but he seemed fine before they came here. She pursed her lips and then let her gaze fall back to the sweet little bunny in her lap that had twitched when her petting had stopped. She gave it a small smile, hugging it closer to her, and looked up once more to watch him walk closer.

Iris teased him with Lucien and while Lucien was handsome in his own right, Eris…she absolutely hated how embarrassed she felt to even admit it to herself but my, oh my, did Eris look handsome beneath the bright sunlight. Her husband’s stupid confidence alone made her want to —

“You are staring awfully hard.”

Iris blinked, her focus still on Eris, her gaze sliding down to his hand where the simple gold ring glinted there. She had never given any mind to their wedding bands. Only really wore her own gold band because that was what they were supposed to do but — but the weight of it definitely felt different on her finger now.

“Hm?” she finally replied, tilting her head towards Elain with her eyes still on her husband.

Elain’s giggle filled the open space as her sister-in-law said, “I daresay, I hope the two of you wait until Lucien and I are inside at least.”

Iris blinked again, hearing what Elain said, and flushed deeply. “I beg your pardon?”

“The grass can add a nice touch to the sensation.”

Iris whirled to glance at her sister-in-law in shock, which only made Elain laugh.

“I’m teasing!”

“Sure sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Iris muttered and tried not to think about what laying in an open field with Eris would feel like. She didn’t need the image of his body over hers, touching her in ways she hadn’t been touched before. She didn’t need to think about his wretched mouth and how it would feel all over her skin. Iris wondered how it would feel to have him on his back and do all the things she’d only heard about through whispers. Her body heated as she tried very hard not to think about it. Eris would be so smug about it if he found out.

She squinted at the sly smile that bloomed on Elain’s face.

“Indeed.” Elain replied and was silent for a moment before that sly smile turned into a grin and Iris already knew whatever she said would be something she wasn’t ready for. “Did you ever hear the saying that not only do the Autumn Court males have fire in their blood but, they —” Elain lowered her voice and choked out with a giggle, “fuck — like it too?”

“No.” Iris choked out, flushing from head to toe. This conversation had taken a turn she was not prepared for. She did not want to start thinking about Eris and what fucking him would be like. She did not want to think about that at all. “Where did you even hear such a thing?”

“My sister Feyre mentioned it once.” Elain said, feeding her little bunny then met Iris’s gaze with a grin, even while blushing. “I’ve tested that theory. It is very true.”

Iris shot up, clutching the bunny in her arms tighter, her face heated. “Elain.”

Her sister-in-law only laughed harder and Iris wanted to throttle her. It took Elain a good minute to stop laughing at Iris’s expression when she finally said, “I never used to be like this. I was too proper of a lady to ever bring up such subjects.”

“Clearly something traumatic happened.” Iris said dryly.

“Oh yes,” she replied with a smile. “I met Lucien.”

“Traumatic indeed.”

“What’s traumatic?” Lucien asked as the brothers finally stopped before them.

“Meeting you.” Elain replied brightly and Lucien blinked then rolled his eyes.

“Ah, yes. So traumatic for you.” he said dully, waving an arm to their beautiful surroundings as both girls laughed.

“Can’t say the day I met your brother wasn’t also traumatic.” Iris said, shooting her husband a look, her stupid heart skipping a beat when he met her gaze.

“Funny you should say that when I was the one who had a chair thrown at him.” Eris said with a snort, his eyes locked on her and Iris could feel the way he cataloged every inch of her.

Iris rolled her eyes, her cheeks blushing lightly, and looked at Elain. “He’s never going to let that go.”

“Threatened with my own dagger.” Eris continued conversationally.

“It slipped into my hand honestly.” she said with a shrug and a look full of innocence to Lucien who grinned.

“Something about these Autumn Court boys.” Elain added, gesturing towards the brothers and glancing at Iris. “It screams emotional instability.”

“I personally feel like we should be financially compensated for these unions.” Iris teased and Eris narrowed his gaze on her.

“Wife.”

She couldn’t help laughing again at his indignant tone. “Husband?”

He rolled his eyes but Iris didn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. Her eyes flickered down to the bunny still in her hands then back up to him before casually taking a step toward him as Eris took a step towards her but Lucien cleared his throat, and they both froze in place.

“Elain, my love?” Lucien said, his lips twitching as he looked at his wife and he held out his arm. “We should get the table ready, no?”

Elain blinked then jumped right up, taking her husband’s arm. “Oh, yes. We definitely should,” she said quickly then grinned at Eris and Iris. “We don’t want you two to starve!”

“Oh.” Iris said, glancing once at Eris — she couldn’t help it really — before turning to smile at Elain. “Let me help you.”

“No!” Their hosts replied quickly and Iris blinked.

“That’s what I’m here for.” Lucien said with a charming smile he directed at Elain, who preened at his attention and then glanced back at Iris. “Please, enjoy the gardens for a little longer.”

“We’ll let you know when it’s ready!” Elain called and promptly dragged Lucien inside, her giggle barely contained.

Iris flushed and tried not to laugh at the way the two scrambled inside. A chuckle escaped nonetheless. “Your brother and his wife aren’t known for being subtle, are they?” she said and turned to finally face him once more.

“Not when it comes to me, at least.” Eris grumbled but it was with no heat as he let his gaze flicker to his wife.

Iris seemed to hesitate, gauging the distance between them, and after a breath of silence, she lowered herself to release the bunny from her arms and then stood slowly. She slid over to Eris’s side and hovered close enough without touching.

“Are you alright? I saw fire.” she asked quietly. “I — I wanted to check on you but Elain said you would be fine talking to Lucien.”

He nodded with a small smile. “I’m alright.” he said, rubbing the tip of his ear. “Are you – are you alright?”

Iris chuckled, shifting on her feet. “I’m fine. I was spending time with the bunnies.” she said, gesturing to the small animals around them.

“I can see that.” Eris said and Iris felt her cheeks heat under the weight of his gaze. The world had suddenly shifted into a pleasant quietness and she couldn’t seem to find the right words to say.

Iris only had eyes for her husband and Eris only had eyes for her.

After another beat of silence, she curled a strand of hair behind her ear and said, “Did — did you and Lucien enjoy your chat?”

“Surprisingly, we didn’t punch each other.” he replied with a small smile. “But I really wanted to.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “You love him so much.”

“Incorrect.”

“So much.”

“That is an extremely inaccurate statement.”

Iris shot him a look that had his lips twitching but she only shook her head again and glanced at him, at the few inches between them. It wasn’t — she wasn’t feeling awkward. She suddenly and annoyingly felt shy. She let it fall silent for another moment then held out her hand. “Let me see your hand.” she asked softly, the need to touch him nearly knocking the wind out of her.

“It already healed.” he mumbled but still, placed his hand in hers. “I’m fine. I just — needed a moment.”

Iris inspected his hand quietly and Eris tried not to listen to how rapidly her heart was beating. He watched her face as she ran her thumb across his palm and willed himself not to shudder.

“It’s healed fine but you need to get it cleaned up.” she said softly and glanced up at him as he peered down at her and stepped closer. “That’s the second time you’ve hurt your hands today.”

“A typical day in the life.” he said and Iris gave him a pointed look.

“You had me worried about you when you stormed out.”

He gave her another small smile. “Someone might think you actually like me with the way you’re worried about me.”

Her lips twitched. “I barely tolerate you.”

“Why, thank you, wife. I barely tolerate you as well.”

They shared another glance and Eris couldn’t help himself as he gazed at her beautiful face with the shy smile, at her bright hazel eyes — couldn’t help himself because he had to, simply had to kiss her. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips then back to her eyes again.

Licking his lips, he started to say, “I need to —”

Without waiting for him to finish, Iris cut him off with a whisper of “Yes.”

She reached for him as he reached for her and Eris wrapped his arms around her waist. Iris fell into his embrace, his lips meeting hers as he pulled her firmly into him.

He kissed her and poured every emotion that vibrated through his body into her, delight flaring in him as Iris sank into him with a little whimper, her hands wrapping around him. Eris teased her with a gentle bite to her bottom lip and when she opened for him, his tongue dived in for a taste of her. He kissed and caressed and savored her mouth with his, willing himself not to tremble. Only when he felt her melt into him completely did Eris release her with a groan, resting his face on her shoulder.

Iris shuddered in his arms, a hand hesitantly sliding up his back. “Eris.” she whispered in his ear. “Terrible timing.”

“The absolute worst.” he agreed with a mumble, then lifted his head to bring his mouth against hers again, seizing her lips once more.

Iris let him, fighting back a smile and failing, chuckling against his lips as he tasted her. The chuckle quickly turned into another whimper as he kissed her hard, her heart fluttering wildly and nothing could really prepare her for how badly she needed to have Eris near her, the one person she had never planned to even acknowledge.

When Eris finally pulled back again, simply to glance at her, she let a moment of silence pass between them, watching the blaze in his eyes, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning up and gently pecking his lips in return. She kissed him once, then twice, then a third time, sensing his growing delight.

“Well. Thank you, wife.” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk when she flushed, even with the rapid beating in his chest. “I’m glad you’re enjoying what I have to offer.”

Iris shifted against him, her hands now smoothing his tunic and she avoided his eyes. “It’s barely anything. Don’t be too flattered.”

He chuckled then took a breath and stepped back, holding out a hand and Iris didn’t hesitate to intertwine her fingers with his, meeting his eyes once more.

“Earlier…” she began slowly. “I thought you were upset with me. With the way you reacted.”

Eris grimaced. “It’s not — you did nothing wrong.” he said quickly. “I needed a moment.”

“Because I kissed you?” she asked, tilting her head to glance at him. “I didn’t realize I was that powerful.”

A weak laugh escaped Eris as he met her gaze. She doesn’t know. I had my whole world turned upside down and she has no idea.

His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand and Eris let a heartbeat pass before he gave her a tight smile. “Who is the one that’s too flattered now?”

Iris narrowed her eyes at him and he lifted a brow in return. “Something is wrong.” she said. “What is it?”

Eris only watched her face. How exactly was he supposed to tell her that something he never thought would happen to him had shifted the world beneath his feet? That she, the wife he had never thought would be more than a task he checked off, had weaved her way into his life, a life he hated almost everything about except for the moments he had started spending with her? That she, his Iris, was going to be the single most wonderful yet stress-inducing thing in his life.

All the panic that Lucien had walked him through was slowly creeping up his spine again.

“Nothing.” he finally said quietly. “Are you…feeling alright? Is there anything bothering you from earlier?”

Iris pursed her lips, her gaze dropping to their joined hands, and was silent for a moment. There was something he wasn’t telling her but she knew better than to push and thought about his question instead.

A lot had happened today. Too much, in fact. But…anything that happened before their kiss had faded from her mind. Eris and his rather heated kisses, what that meant for them now that they — they became a little more physical, was what remained on her mind. What she had told him before they came about her wanting to be more than friends and what that would mean. And that was a lot.

But as she watched his thumb gently caress her hand… Iris knew it would be alright. Maybe she should’ve been more concerned but for all her initial worries about Eris, for all her doubts, today had only solidified what had been building inside her for some time. Everything that Eris was and what she thought he would be, came down to one thought and one thought only — that she wasn’t alone in this. It made all the difference.

She bit the corner of her mouth then looked up and said, “I feel a little overwhelmed but I’m — I’m not worried. More…nervous? But not in a…bad way.” she admitted slowly. “...You?”

Eris hummed softly and held out his other hand so that both her hands rested in his. He liked holding her hands far more than he’d care to admit.

“I’m…fine.” he said dryly and Iris’s lips twitched when his own cheeks heated. “I think you could probably tell I was feeling a tad overwhelmed.”

“Because my kiss knocked you out of this world?” she teased gently. “Guess all that practice came in handy.”

His grip tightened on her hands and said through clenched teeth, “Don’t — don’t bring that up right now.”

Iris’s brow rose in amusement and she fought back a smile. “Wow, you really are sensitive today.”

“Wife.”

He narrowed his eyes at her but Iris only smiled innocently and Eris rolled his eyes.

Clearing his throat, he let it fall silent for a moment before he continued, “But I am…nervous as well. I don’t…know how to be this person. I don’t know how to do this.”

Iris shrugged, her heart swelling at his confession. “Neither do I.” she said and squeezed his hands. “You said that when we first agreed to be friends too but I think we’re doing pretty okay.”

“Aside from you throwing a chair at me and trying to stab me a few times.”

“You’re really never going to let that go, are you?”

“Never.” he said and smirked. “It makes me very aroused to think about.”

Iris rolled her eyes and the corner of Eris’s lips lifted when she mumbled, “You’re very annoying.”

“Annoying I may be but…” he started and the air between them shifted as he gazed at her intently. “I am your husband who is also your friend. That you want to be a bit more than that with.”

He felt her grip tighten on his hands and she glanced down at their joined hands then back up at him. “Yes…I did say that.”

Eris let it fall silent as he looked at her, a whirlwind of emotion coursing through him. He tried to settle on one, be it panic, fear, joy, but in the end, he let them all mingle, focusing only on her. She had no idea he was going to be so much more than that. He would — well, he would be whatever the hell she wanted him to be.

“We should — need to discuss what that means —” he started, his gaze flickering to the space around them. “More privately once we get home.” he finished and Iris tilted her head.

“Alright.” she said with furrowed brows then teased, “Are you afraid the bunnies will spread rumors about you having feelings?”

Eris snorted. “No. But Lucien and Elain are watching us from their kitchen window and they are very nosy.” he said and Iris turned her head to find said couple quickly ducking out of view.

She laughed softly as her cheeks heated. “I hope you know that this visit has been nothing short of mortifying.”

“I nearly always want to assassinate myself after visiting them.”

“Because they tease you?”

“Because they know me too well at this point.” he replied with a chuckle.

“They really do.” she agreed and flushed. “It’s…been something, alright.”

Eris fought against the cascading of emotions brewing in him, fought against the smile as she gazed at him. Before he could stop himself, he let a finger brush against her colored cheeks.

“I like seeing you blush.” he murmured softly and Iris fought back her own smile, glancing down with a shake of her head. “It makes me wonder what you’re thinking about.”

“I’m just thinking about…things.”

“What things, wife?”

Iris’s lips twitched as she looked up at him and shot him a knowing look. “Things.” she only said.

The conversation with Elain had been…enlightening to say the least. Iris never had a doubt that Eris held up his reputation quite seriously to others so she wasn’t too surprised to know he was either strongly disliked or slightly feared. How much of a harlot he was shouldn’t have taken her by surprise either and it took every ounce of logical reasoning not to be irrationally jealous of Nesta Archeron, who was already mated to someone else and wanted nothing to do with him.

But it had warmed her heart just how much Elain and Lucien actually loved him. Knowing how much Eris loved them…it made her want to be worthy of their love too.

The smile dropped from his face and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What exactly have you heard?” Eris asked and Iris laughed.

“Oh you know, things.” she said airily then smirked when Eris scowled. “We can discuss those later.”

“But —”

“Do you hear that? Elain calling.” Iris said and patted him on the chest. “We should go and be helpful guests.”

“Iris.” he started but she only gave a smile, pulling away.

“Surely you hear Lucien calling. He misses his big brother.”

Eris’s scowl deepened. “Wife.”

“Don’t make me accidentally skewer you with a fork, Eris.” she said sweetly, skipping away further when her husband snorted. “All it takes is a slip of the hand.”

“Threaten me with a good time all you want, I will find out what you’ve heard.”

“I’m simply trying to romance you, husband.” she said, pausing on the threshold of the back door to Elain and Lucien’s home. “Play nice, we’re still guests here.”

“I’m floored by your romance techniques.” he said dryly and waved a hand. “And we’re not guests here. Elain says this is my home too.”

“Elain, not Lucien?” she asked with a laugh and Eris shrugged.

“I think he’s still upset Elain likes me more than she likes him.”

Iris laughed again, the sound bringing a small smile to his own face. Her laugh made his wretched heart swell and ache all in one. Her laugh reminded him that things would be fine. She was his mate. He only had to tell her and it would be fine. They would be fine.

He watched her walk into his brother’s home with a shake of her head and knew in his bones that whatever came next, whatever they faced after this, Eris would do anything — become anything — to keep her laughing.

#eris vanserra #eris x oc #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #elucien #acotar fanfiction #gfics #smtb chapters #thank you for reading :)

71 notes · View notes

dilftaroooo · 1 year

Text

a lil something for my black gorls bc apparently every reader in this fandom is fair skinned </3

oh lord ghost turns into holy spirit bc of how much he worships u and yo body goodness gracious (i am so sorry father god 💀🧎🏽‍♀️). got carried away. p.s. yall i haven’t written anything in a hot minute so this small thirst might be raggedy as hell (my coochie was doin the thinking)

tags: smut + afab reader + ghost loves you sm + just as much as u love him + finger lickin good pussy eatin + body worship + slight dumbification + i was planning on making him rough with u but then i went soft :) + p power + piv sex + barely proofread + im so sleepy i’ll probably edit the format later + forgot how much i fucking hate tumblr’s editing antics.

You had lost count already. How many times you came to be exact. Has it gone up to Two? Three? Yeah—three. At least that’s what you think. Well—you suppose thinking is starting to become more and more of a rare luxury considering the state you were in—dazed and stupid. Eyes decorated with a red glow from the tears that spilled from them along with a glossy sheen that finished the look.

Subtle hints of wet mascara slid down the apples of your cheeks as Ghost’s fingers delve deep within your wet entrance. His digits were more than acquainted to the slimy ridges that lived inside of you. He graciously pets your most sensitive spots with the utmost care, making your pussy scream as his moist lips kisses your bothered clit as though he’s cooing it to sleep. His tender nature juxtaposes the foreboding gleam of his skull mask and dark eyes drowning in war paint.

It’s those eyes. The ones that made you shiver and whine whenever they catch sight of you. The ones that glare under dim, yellow lights when you inevitably made him jealous. Enough to make them turn green. The ones that form crescent moons whenever he reminds you how much he loves you (the mild appearance of crow’s feet adorning the outer corners). Those eyes—

God, those big fucking eyes.

Sweat makes your melanin coated skin glisten, emitting a warm glow that send tingles up Ghost’s spine. He can feel the goosebumps covering his body as you inadvertently arch your back, pushing your warm sex up against his upper lip, making him groan into your sensitive nub. Your core tighten once more, your pedicured toes stretched across the apex of his back, polish chipped and damaged from irritation, the power of your orgasm jolting you with a hot flash.

Now it's your fourth time.

Brown areolas raise up and down from your big breaths, in the process of coming down from that high you’ve encountered just a second ago. But Ghost doesn’t know rest as he gorges your nipple in his mouth, adoring the quick yelp escaping your lips.

“Ah, Ghost…” You say with kind fragility. Your palms lightly tap his shoulder. Not telling him to stop but telling him to slow down. It was too much. His hands caressed your naked curves. He loved admiring your body. Taking the time to relish just how gorgeous you really are—from head to toe:

Your cornrows styled in intricate parts, freshly layered with the tropical smell of coconuts. Skin gleaming with the overly used shea butter that rarely missed a day off your body. Lips full and plump and coated with that cherry chapstick he loves to taste. Your breast were round and soft to the touch. And your pussy—Fuck, that pussy shined with your juices. Juices he created from fucking you silly with his fingers.

Ghost wasn’t a religious man. He never was. But of all the possible religions out there, your pussy was the one he worshiped the most.

He loved this pussy. Kneeled for this pussy. Prayed for this pussy.

Your being was his shrine and your name was his mantra. He couldn’t get enough of you and your light touches and gentle praises. Ghost couldn’t find more ways to thank you for your existence.

He releases your nipple with a soft pop and utters a voice lower than you’ve ever heard him use, “I need you, love.” You don’t take long to nod with evident fervor. Languidly aiding him in unbuckling his pants and releasing him from those tight restraints.

“I need you,” He repeats. “need that soaking wet cunt.” His Mancunian accent is thick and laced with desire when his mouth spewed that last word. You let go of a wanting mewl before spreading the dark, puffy lips that lead to your sopping wet hole. Just what he wanted.

You both moan in unison as you both get what you want. His hand engulfed yours and you’re quickly reminded of how big he is. His fingers are long and thick. Your legs twitch as you remember how they feel rubbing inside you. He leisurely finds his way deep in your sex. Your tightness pains him in the way that he likes. Leaning down to grunt into your ear, nose filled with that familiar coconut scent, you clench around him when his teeth bites down at the shell of your ear.

He loves you. He loves you so much—your hair, your eyes, your lips, your smile, your voice, your taste, your scent. You’re wonderful. Breathtaking. Beautiful. So so beautiful. He’s so glad he has you. That you’re in his arm moaning so prettily for him. And its almost unbelievable to him that you think of him the same way he thinks of you.

Once your breathing gets heavier and his thrusts gets sloppier and your eye starts twitching, you both finally succumb to the hot rush of pleasure. You don’t object to his heavy weight toppling over you after he fills you up (you encourage it with a hug despite how heavy he is). It feels good—laying like this. So intimate. You pet the back of his head taking in his warmth. Time passes before he slowly looks up at you, his eyes the same temperature as both of your bodies meshed together, and he suddenly states,

“That’s your fifth one, doll.” And you can’t help the quiet snicker that leaves you before giving him a playful slap to his arm, telling him to shut up. You somehow manage to catch a small glimpse of him rolling his eyes beneath that inky mask of his. This was intimate indeed. You finish off the night with a kiss to his forehead and you felt your heart flutter when he answered with a subdued hum.

#ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #mw2 smut #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 smut #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost mw2 #black reader

657 notes · View notes

foxyarchive · 3 months

Text

Your Guardian Angel(Or Devil) P3

You go on a date, and Adam can't resist being a dick about it. Set between chapters 1 & 2.

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Drinking, mild spice, brief dubious consent with Adam(nothing bad, promise).

Words: ~6k

Well found out I'm bad at writing stuff that's not plot LMAO like Reader and Adam shitposting. Wanna do more of it but it's hard for me to write... So probably plot either next chapter or next. Tried to prolong as long as I could soz.

Tags in comments! Ask to be added to the Taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

You step out of the shower with a sigh, toweling off your body and drying your hair as best as you can for the time being. You had a few hours until you were going out, so you were going to take your time getting yourself looking nice and presentable. You wrap the towel around your body, bending over your sink to wash your face and brush your teeth. When you’ve finished that, you move to adjust your towel so it doesn’t fall, trying to decide what you want to use on your hair.

“Weeeeelll, looks like I popped up at the right time.” You scream in shock, your hand fumbling as your towel drops and pools around your feet. You hear a whistle, and look over with a burning face as you see Adam standing just outside your bathroom door, biting his lip and wiggling his brows.

“A-Adam! Fuck�� S-Stop looking!” You crow, trying to cover your bits as best you can as you bend down to pick up your towel. He just laughs, pointing a finger at you as you try to remain a shred of modesty. Your face and body are unbearably warm right now in embarrassment. You can’t even look him in the eye.

“Chillaaaax, sweet-tits, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Comes his too haughty for your liking response. Somehow, you burn even more at that as you try to wrap your towel around yourself.

“W-What? You’ve… Seen me naked before?” You tremble a bit, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the sudden admission to the lack of privacy.

“Duh. I have this orb thing that lets me just look in on you whenever I want. I don’t really use it, though, don’t care enough to watch your boring ass life.” He says it so nonchalantly, you can’t help but to feel goosebumps raise over your skin. The look across your face must’ve caught his attention, as he just gives another wave of his hand and roll of his eyes as he turns away from you. “It’s a Guardian thing, don’t make it fuckin’ weird now. I mean, unless you wanna.” He looks back at you with a sly leer, raising his brows once again.

“No!” You respond, almost immediately, appalled at the implication. One that an angel was making, no less! Wasn’t he supposed to be more… Virtuous? You do remember the last time you saw him, though… Implied he could really get away with whatever he wanted. There has to be certain boundaries that can’t be crossed, though. He just shrugs, turning away boredly.

“Your loss, babes.” He makes his way into your bedroom, and you follow after him as you finish fixing your towel around yourself.

“Isn’t lust a sin?” You can’t help but ask as he spreads out his wings and flops back onto your bed carelessly.

“‘Isn’t lust a sin!?’” He mocks you in that stupid ass voice again, and you puff out your cheeks in annoyance. “I don’t sin. I’m fuckin’ Adam, in case you forgot. I’m perfect.” He grins, pointing at himself. He then proceeds to roll over to his side, propping his head up with a hand as his elbow rests on the bed. You just suppress a sigh, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. Wait… He was here. Did that mean…?

“Was I about to die?” You suddenly gape, looking around the room, wondering what was going to happen. An earthquake? Maybe you use a blow dryer and you almost get electrocuted? Slipping and falling out of the shower, perhaps? You look back when he doesn’t respond at first, and you see the face he makes.

“The fuck? No, what?” He frowns, and you mirror the confusion on your face.

“But… That’s why you’re here… Right? You come around to prevent my death…?” You inquire, slowly, and a small look of realization passes across his features.

“Oooh… Yeah, nah, I was just bored. Wanted to swing by, see how your shitty mortal life was going.” He declares, flopping onto his back once more, resting his hands on his stomach. His horns rest over the side of your bed. So does most of his body. He’s massive.

“Are you allowed to do that?” You blink. He turns his head slightly towards you, exasperated.

“‘Tits, we just went over this.” He deadpans. Oh. Right. He’s Adam. He can do… Whatever he wants, apparently.

“Err. Okay, right, well…” You shift from side to side, somewhat nervous. Some droplets fall from your hair onto your shoulders and back, despite having tried to dry it off earlier. “Sorry to… Disappoint you? But I’m going out tonight, so I can’t… Hangout??” What do you even say? Did he want to hang out? Just say hello? What kind of weird relationship were you starting to build with your divine fucking angel?

“Wow, finally doin’ something on a Friday night besides binging a shitty show, doing a game, or jilling off?” He remarks, sitting up now as your face heats up even more.

“D-Don’t say that!” You groan, turning away as you cover your face with your hands at his crass words. He really does look in on you! You’re not proud about how you spend some of your weekend nights… You like to go hangout with your friends when you can, but everyone can get so busy. You hear him mockingly laugh, which only makes you heat up more in embarrassment. “For your information, I have a date tonight! So if you can just… Fly off or whatever so I can get ready, that would be great, thanks.” You snip over your shoulder, turning and walking back in the bathroom.

You squeak in surprise as Adam suddenly appears in front of you, wings flared as he hunches over your smaller stature. “A date, huh? Really? You?” He sneers, and you scoff, anger flaring in your chest.

“Yes, me! That’s rude. I’m attractive! And capable of dating. And holding conversations. I’m doing it with you right now!” You pause, briefly. “The conversation part, I mean.” He hums, giving a small nod of his head, crossing his arms as he tucks his wings back against his side.

“Uh-huh, suuuure. And you don’t want me to go with you?” He rubs his chin, and you squint at him.

“What are you getting at? Why would I want you to come with? So you can distract me?” You roll your eyes, inching passed him to go and gather some makeup to put on.

“Babes, if you’re that distracted by me, maybe it’s best to not go out with some other bozo while you’re thinkin’ about me. After all, I am right here.” He grins, slinging an arm across your shoulder. You stiffen at the contact, swallowing nervously as he dips his face close to yours. Why did your Guardian Angel have to be so horny? Looking at the size of him as well, even if you both did end up tangled in bed, you’re not even certain it’d fit… “Thinkin’ about this dick? Don’t blame you.” He lightly grips your chin with the arm around your shoulder, pushing it to look towards him. He cranes his head closer to you. You’re horrified he caught on to your train of thought. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel fucking great. I’ll make sure that pretty little pus–”

“No, no, stop!” As he begins to ramble, you suddenly pull yourself away from him, breathing more rapid. To your relief, he just looks irritated, but he doesn’t pressure you or crowd you again. He pulls back, even seeming to flatten his wings a little more against his side to make himself appear less large. “I’m not– You’re not– This is… Inappropriate! I’m like… Your client, or whatever!” You grimace at the wording, even if it’s true. Adam just rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“I fuckin’ told you, it doesn’t matter. We can do whatever the fuck we want.” He pauses. “Almost anything. Fucking is on the list, though.” He confirms with a nod. You just groan, putting your head in your hands.

“I… I don’t… I mean… How could you even want to fuck me?” You can’t help but ask, as you consider this more and more.

“Uuuh. Because you’re hot and got a rockin’ bod?” He lifts a brow. Well, guess that’s some sort of an ego boost for you… or is it? Adam seems like the kinda guy to stick his dick in anyone with a pulse that throws mild attention his way, really. Maybe you should take that comment with a grain of salt, then…

“No, I mean– You’ve watched me my whole life. Don’t you feel some sort of… I don’t know… Protective, parental kinship for me?” You can’t help but ask, grimacing a bit at the thought. You don’t know whether to feel angry or embarrassed as he starts laughing at you, full blown, even hunching over a bit. “Why are you– That’s not funny!” You stutter out. It’s anger you feel, alright. He straightens up some, trying to calm down, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Oooh. Oh, that’s fuckin’ hilarious, ‘tits. Really, super funny.” He wheezes, an easy grin crossing his features as he puts his hands on his hips. “Nice try, but ah, no. You’re right, in a sense. You’re basically just my nuisance client.” He pauses, tapping his chin. “Mm… Maybe more like a pet.” He mumbles in thought, and you feel another flare of anger.

“A– A pet!?” You cry in outrage.

“Yeah! But like, a fuckable one. Shit, wait no, that sounds fucking weird, back that up–” He puts his hands up, and you decide to bite your tongue as you resist the urge to go and pluck his wings. “Uuugh, why are you making me describe this shit! Look.” He finally breathes in, clasping his hands together as he takes a step towards you. You shift a half step back, and he stops, but continues talking. “To me, you’re just this lady I gotta look after. Like I said, I didn’t really actually watch you. Checked occasionally because Sera was on my dick about it, but that’s whatever. You’re like, what, thirty something now, though?”

“I’m–” You begin to offer him your correct age, but he just waves you off.

“Whatever, you’re old.” You huff at his comment. “You’re an adult, you can make your own fuckin’ choices, yada yada. All I'm saying is: Original dickmaster, right here.” He grins, pointing to himself. You remain silent, still eyeing him, face still slightly scrunched up. Even if you both were two consenting adults(with him falling more along the lines of… primordial demi-God way older than you), you're not losing sight of what you have in mind tonight. Especially not for Adam, who has been quite callous with you. You're not even sure he actually likes you.

“Okay, well… Thanks for all the clarification. I guess.” You utter the last part under your breath, turning away from him. “Still going out with my date tonight. Still would like it if you weren't there.” You then declare, moving past him once more to go and get ready, and you just hear a scoff leave his throat.

“You sure ‘bout that? Hear men on Earth are pretty shitty. What if he tries to… I dunno, kill you or something?” He states, and you can see the squint he’s eyeing you with through your mirror.

“Then you’ll protect me? Like you’re supposed to?” You can’t help but to bite out in response, growing tired of this. Adam hisses out a slow, quiet breath through his teeth, clicking his tongue.

“I dunno about that… I mean, what if it’s your time? What if this is where you meet your fate? At the hands of some dude you think is cool?” The seed he sows in your head makes you pause at what you’re doing. He did say that he knew when you were going to die, but… He’s just fucking with you. He has to be.

“Okay, well, even if this was where I was going to die, then who cares? It’s fate, right? You can’t interfere with that.” You roll your eyes, trying to quell the now uncertain flutter in your stomach. He walks forward once more, hovering right behind you as he cranes his neck down slightly to peer at you. You don’t turn around to meet him, only eye him uncertainly through the mirror.

“Don’t you remember who I am?” He utters to you, quietly, and that makes you pause. There’s no shot he can circumvent your death… Right? Besides, he was just bluffing. You were going to be fine tonight. He backs off, though, abrupt and with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Just saying. Lotta stuff can happen.” Then he disperses in a flitter of gold. You’ve never felt more uncertain in your life. You assume he’s just trying to get your goat, but the anxiety in you is beginning to try and spin a tale otherwise. You look ahead, just focusing on getting ready.

The rest of the time you doll yourself up, it’s blissfully quiet, which acts as both a blessing and a curse. You can just focus on the night ahead, but it also lets you mull over your thoughts about what Adam said. He’s just fucking with me. He’s not serious about it. Why is he even saying stuff like that? You ponder as you finally get into your car, heading towards the bar you were supposed to be meeting your date. You park, check yourself in the mirror, and head inside. There you spot your date, sitting at the bartop, and all you can think of currently is thank God you didn’t get catfished.

“Hey! Ryan, right?” You smile as you approach, and he looks at you, offering a smile in return. He inquires your name, and you nod, unto which he shakes your hand when you hold it out. Well, it starts as a handshake, and turns into a somewhat unprompted hug, which you gingerly return before you sit next to him.

“It’s great to meet you in person! You look lovely.” He compliments, and you offer a bashful smile, returning a compliment yourself. After you both decide on what to drink and order, he faces back towards you. You both begin to divulge the basics of one another– What you do for work, what hobbies you have, some places you’ve visited before. It’s going fine, and he’s awfully nice, but you can’t help but to feel… A little bored. Any spark you had felt over texting him through the app you’d met him in is slowly beginning to drain. You have a few things in common, but not much, and you can’t help but to feel a little worn down with the conversation. It certainly doesn’t help that you’ve ordered another drink as well. Why the Hell did you do that?

As you’re beginning to feel your eyes glaze over when he talks about a very… Uninteresting work trip he had in a rather monotonous way, something catches your attention. It’s out of the corner of your eye. A flicker of gold. You glance over, seeing nothing of the sort, and shift a bit to draw your attention back to Ryan. Suddenly, your date flinches a bit, and you frown, sitting up. “Are you okay?” You ask, and he rubs the side of his head, glancing around. You look down, noticing a partially discarded peanut shell next to his barstool.

“Yeah, sorry, I… I thought I felt something.” He frowns, looking back at you, giving a sheepish smile. “Guess it was nothing. Anyways, as I was saying, we arrived at this studio where–” You see the peanut shell coming this time, smacking Ryan square in the ear. He looks behind him, and slowly, you do as well. Your eyes stretch wide in mortification. You see Adam, sitting at an empty table, a smirk on his face with an array of used peanut shells on the table. Someone had just left, and looks like he decided to sit there and bug your date. For a moment, a flicker off worry runs through you. Can Ryan see him? You crane your neck over a bit, but by the look of stark confusion on his features, it’s clear that he can’t. “Did– Did you see anyone throw something at me?” He frowns, and you bite the inside of your cheek. You can see Adam’s grin widen.

“No.” You respond, because truthfully, you didn’t actually see Adam do it. You’re sure it’s him, though… Ryan just rubs the back of his neck, giving you a sheepish look.

“I swear, I keep feeling something pelting me… I guess it just must be my imagination.” He murmurs, and your eyes shift past him. You see Adam lining up another shell, biting his tongue in concentration. You give him a warning glare as best as you can without making it seem like you’re pointing your stare towards Ryan, but either Adam doesn’t catch onto it or doesn’t care. He flicks his middle finger, and the shell goes flying, thunking Ryan right on the back of his head. This time, Ryan stands up, flustered as he looks around to try and catch the culprit. You dig your nails into your palms as Adam begins to laugh, pointing at your date as he leans back in the chair.

“Ahah– You should– You should see his face. He’s so pissed. And confused. Not– Not sure which he’s more of.” He cackles. You try your best– You really, really do. You want to be upset with Adam interrupting things, but you can’t help giving a snort of laughter. You then cover your mouth, trying to stifle it as best as you can as Ryan’s head swivels around to catch the culprit.

“Are– Are you okay, Ryan?” You try not to wheeze or show that much of a smile as he huffs out, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“No– I mean, yes, I just– There is somebody here who is pelting me with… With something.” He finally looks at the ground, near him, seeing the shells. “With peanuts, I suppose… I can’t find out who.” You feel guilty, now, as you see the embarrassed look across his features. Even more guilty that you have to pretend like he’s crazy. Is this gaslighting?

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen anyone doing anything.” You finally say. You don’t feel good about it, but what can you do? Tell him your primordial guardian angel that acts like a twelve year old is flicking used peanut shells at him?

“Yes, I’m sure! I think I am, at least.” He’s looking more and more uncertain now, sheepishly sitting back down. You offer him a comforting pat on his hand as he takes a sip of his drink, trying not to draw your eyes away from him as Adam comes over.

“This dude is soooo boring. Why don’t you fuckin’ leave already?” He scoffs, crossing his arms as he glowers down at Ryan. You stiffen as you see someone walking in the path of Adam, but to your slight surprise(and relief), the person walks right through him. Adam’s body shimmers and ripples a bit as it happens, but it doesn’t seem to disturb him at all. For obvious reasons, you can’t respond, especially as Ryan speaks back up.

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m just… Being paranoid. I’m a little nervous, sorry, but the date has been wonderful so far! You’re really interesting, I’m so glad I got to come out here with you.” He admits, smiling a bit bashfully, and you can’t help but to smile at the rather sweet admission as well. You feel your cheeks warm. You see Adam faux gag himself with a finger, and you suppress the urge to snip something to him.

“I’m glad we got to do this, too.” You respond back to Ryan. Well, even if you didn’t really click, it was still nice to get out and get a drink. Speaking of… Maybe you should finish your second one a little faster. A flicker of guilt passes through you. Perhaps… You could make a bit more of an effort. Ask additional questions about his trip, engage more where you can. “What, uh… Made you want to work as an interior designer? Family, or just something personal?” You decide on, because that can always be interesting. Ryan seems to perk up at the question.

“My grandmother was one, actually! I didn’t realize how much I liked it until I went with her one day when I was younger to work in an emergency.” He chuckles. “I got to see how she worked, who she worked with, and how she would put some things together.”

“Ask him if he’s sure he’s actually interested in women.” Adam pipes up, moving to stand beside you, and you grit your jaw at his comment. That almost makes you snap out and snarl at him, but you try not to as Ryan continues to go on about the experience, as well as what pushed him further towards it. “Fucking– This guy is so boring. It’s boring me and I don’t even have to pretend to be listening.” He groans out, tilting his head back.

Why doesn’t he just leave? You can’t help but to think in irritation. Adam isn’t bound here. Unless… Something is going to happen, but you don’t get that feeling. You watch as your Guardian moves to stand beside your date, now, making a talking motion with his hand while he mimics something similar to ‘blah, blah, blah’ with his mouth. Trying to stifle a noise of anger, you quickly slam down your drink with a sigh, just as Ryan finishes his story. He can see the force you put your drink down with, and he blinks.

“Are you alright?” He inquires, and you sigh out, giving him a smile. Adam is really grinding your gears. Your head is just a bit fuzzy thanks to the drinks. You can think clearly enough, but you also feel on the edge enough to spite Adam with all of his comments tonight.

“Yeah, fine. Sorry. Getting a bit loud in here is all. Wanna head back to my place?” You find yourself asking, quirking a brow.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” It’s more of an exclamation than a question Adam shoots out, and you suppress a smirk, opting for the smile on your face. Ryan seems a little taken aback, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.

“I got some streaming services, if that’s to your fancy.” You add in. Ryan was boring, sure. You thought that, but hearing Adam say it and egg you on to leave just pushed you to do this. Plus, Ryan was really attractive. Like, totally your type.

“O-Oh. Yeah, sure, okay.” He smiles, bashful again, how sweet. He finishes his own drink, pays, and the two of you head out. You can see Adam standing in the background, irritation written all over his features, and you can’t help but to sneak a look back at him and stick out your tongue. He just flips you off before he disappears. You tell Ryan to follow you as you get into your car, and he gets into his, and you lead him back to your apartment. It’s quiet when you both walk in, and Adam isn’t even around anymore. Suddenly, you’re a bit irritated he didn’t stick around. You were supposed to be rubbing this in his face… Or something! Maybe not. You wanted him to leave, wanted to spite him, and clearly you did enough to make him piss off.

You’re… Almost a little sad, now. How awful of you.

“Sorry, uh… Don’t have a lot of people over. Or room in here.” You admit, as you motion to only the beanbag. It’s giant, sure, but it’s not a couch. “I could grab a chair from the nook, though, if you prefer.”

“No, no, this is fine! I really like it.” Ryan laughs a bit, taking a seat on one end of the beanbag, and you do the same. You flick on the television, and open up a streaming service. You both look through it, trying to decide what to watch, and finally decide on some documentary(courtesy of Ryan choosing it). You settle in, beginning to watch, and you’re just waiting for Adam to pop up at any moment. Nothing. You tap your finger on your arm. It’s quiet. A bit awkward. Ryan is fidgeting a bit, and so are you, and you suddenly wonder how this is going to go. He has the same idea, as he’s stealing glances at you occasionally.

Well. Fine, then. You didn’t invite Ryan over because he was a good conversationalist. You inch closer to him, and he does to you as well. His arm moves around your back, and you lean closer, gingerly resting your head on his shoulder. A few more minutes like that before he starts to rub his hand up and down your back. You play with the buttons on his top, undoing one deftly. He glances down at you, and you peer up at him, smiling somewhat shyly as he offers back a similar look. He’s the first to lean in, but you’re the first to meet him in a kiss. It begins chaste, even if both of your hands don’t remain so much, before it begins to progress further.

You sit up a bit more, slinging one leg between his own, stradling one of them now. You feel him lift his leg up a bit, and you can’t suppress the small groan that leaves your lips as you feel rub right up against your crotch. He gives a receptive groan and roll of his leg as you grind against him, bringing one hand to run through his hair, tugging on it. His palms slide down your back and sides, before one comes to grope your ass, and the other briefly fondles your breast, before he tugs on the hem of your shirt. You oblige, popping open another one for his own shirt, and he gets the message. You both briefly split from the kiss to remove your shirts, before diving back in with more fervor.

As you grind yourself on his leg, you allow one of your hands to travel down and palm him through his pants, able to feel how he’s straining already. For a moment, you both break the kiss for air, and he takes the time to tilt your head to the side, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck and collarbone as he works his hands on the back to unclasp your bra. You pant against him, head tilted, eyes half lidded, before you catch sight of something out of the corner of your eye. You gasp in shock just as your bra comes off, recoiling in fear as you see Adam standing off to the side. To your credit, he looks completely unimpressed, arms crossed, eyebrow raised as he watches the scene.

Ryan pauses, thinking you were startled by what he was doing. He looks flustered, gaze heavy with lust and confusion. “Sorry! I thought we were… Going to…” He begins, trailing off, and you look back at him, feeling flustered yourself.

“Yeah! Sorry, I thought… I saw something…” You begin to apologize, and you hear Adam blow a raspberry and give a thumbs down.

“C’mon, it was just gonna get good! Thought you wanted to fuck him, ‘tits. That’s why you invited him over, right?” He sneers, walking over now, looming over the two of you. You can’t help but to stare up at him, eyes wide, body incredibly warm in both arousal and embarrassment. It looks strange to Ryan, obviously, and he draws you back to him with a hand slowly creeping up your back. “Are… Are you okay?” He asks, quietly, tentatively.

“Y-Yes, I’m…” You taper off, unsure what to say. Adam shifts to stand behind you, putting a hand on your neck, slowly pushing your body closer to Ryan.

“Well, go on. Fuck him. You wanted to, right?” He hisses out, and you find yourself trembling. Why is… Why is Adam doing this? Why is he egging you on, when it sounds like he doesn’t actually want you to be doing this? Is this a test? Your trembling doesn’t stop, and that’s finally when Ryan grimaces a bit, pushing you back. Adam doesn’t force you forward anymore, letting you go as your date sits up.

“We don’t have to do this. It’s fine. It’s, um… A bit late, anyways, I should probably… Head out…” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he takes his hands away from you. You let out a breath, giving a small, spaced out nod as you shakily roll to the side. Ryan grabs his shirt, deftly slipping it back on and buttoning it up. All you can do is sit and watch, feeling Adam squinting at you out of the corner of your eye. Ryan gets to his feet, finally, clearing his throat once more as he looks down at you. “It was… Nice to meet you.” He winces, rubbing the back of his neck, and all you can do is purse your lips and nod in response. He takes that as his queue to leave, awkwardly turning and shuffling out to the door.

“...Drive safe.” You balk, weakly, after him as the door shuts behind him. You’re still topless, arms covering your breasts, and once he’s gone, you hear Adam sigh out.

“FINALLY. Holy shit he was soooo boring. Can’t believe you were trying to prove some point by inviting him over.” The angel huffs, plopping down next to you on the beanbag as you grab the remote. You just sit there, frozen, unsure of what to do or say. You feel as awkward as Ryan felt earlier as he begins to flip through channels. “I mean, not like that guy would’ve actually gotten you off I bet.” He laughs, flaring a wing out to slap you with it. You sputter lightly, shifting forward as you feel the soft feathers against your back. “Be a babe and get me some chips, will ya?” Numbly, you just stand up, still trying to process everything that’s happening. You still feel flustered. The inside of your underwear are slick, a true testament to how long it’s been since you’ve fooled around with someone else.

For a moment, you just stare down at Adam. He glances up at you, looking bored, and then irritated. He opens his mouth to say something, but you finally find your voice. “What– Why– Why did you do that? Interrupt us? Do you know how… How inappropriate that was!?” Now that the shock and embarrassment is wearing off, you finally feel anger broiling to the surface. You wave your hands about somewhat for emphasis. “You could have just interfered with something big for me! What if him and I were like… Fate, or something!? He could’ve been the love of my life! I’ll never know what could’ve been, now, because you popped up and were fucking weird!” You’re flushed again, baring your teeth in anger. What infuriates you even more is that, even though Adam’s eyes don’t have pupils, you can very clearly tell that he’s staring at your boobs. Right, you’re still shirtless.

“Adam!!” You shriek in frustration, grabbing your shirt and throwing it at his face. It’s his turn to sputter out, grabbing the garment as you snatch up your bra and begin to storm away, starting to put it back on.

“Chill, bitch, I’m listening! Why the fuck you getting so uppity for?” He snaps out, and you hear him get up too. Well, you hear the beanbag shift slightly, and you don’t even hear him as he seems to glide effortlessly over to you, grabbing your arm and flipping you around to face him. At this point, your bra is back on, but his eyes are actually on your face this time. “I literally helped you!”

“Helped me!?” You blanch, incredulous at his claim. “How the fuck did cockblocking me help me!? Everything was consensual!” He just sneers at this, poking a finger into your chest.

“Because you didn’t actually want it. You were just trying to prove a point, weren’t you?” He snips back, and your mouth opens. Goddammit, he’s right… Partially. You had just done it as a ‘fuck you’ to him, with how rude and openly he was complaining about Ryan, but… He was also hot, and it was just a casual fling. What was so bad about that? “Oh, come on, don’t tell me that walking snooze-fest actually was a turn on for you.” He scoffs, and you just shut your mouth. You feel your cheeks burning, and look away, feeling too embarrassed to have this discussion.

“W-We’re not talking about this!” You finally stutter out, and he makes an incredulous noise as you turn to leave. He just grips your arm again, though, pulling you back towards him.

“No. Fucking. Chance.” He grits his teeth, hand reaching down to pop the button on your jeans. You squeal out, trying to writhe out of his grasp, but stop with a gasp as you feel his fingers push right past your panties and slide between your folds. A squeak leaves you, thankfully, instead of a moan that wants to come out. You’re still aching, afterall, even after getting upset with this whole ordeal. Adam brings his fingers out, looking over the slick that thickly covers his gloves, and a sneer appears on his face. “Un-fucking-believable that guy got you this worked up.” He snips, glaring at you and your flustered features. That sneer quickly winds into a smirk, though, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth.

“Don’t–” You try to take control, but can only bite your lip as you watch his golden tongue poke out and drag the two digits covered in your slick down it, before he sucks on them. “Oh my God!” You whine, finally pulling yourself free as you turn away, hands covering your face.

“Good girls don’t go to Heaven when they use the Father’s name in vain.” His hands are on your shoulders, his head craning near your neck. You feel his breath hot on you, and a shudder runs down your spine as you try to suppress whatever primal urge is inside of you that wants you to turn around and beg Adam to shove his fingers back down your pants again.

“I– I’m going to bed– Alone!” You finally manage to work out of your mouth, shrugging away from him, rubbing your arms as you try to stem the heat flaring through your body. He doesn’t give follow, and just scoffs once more.

“Really? You just gonna go to sleep blueballed?” You hear him huff. “Dickmaster right here, remember!”

“Fuck you!” You snarl back, the events of tonight playing out in your mind once more, making you terse and aggravated. You turn around once you’re in your room, ready to slam the door, and he’s just standing there, eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

“Yeah, sure, I’m right here.” He grins, and you snarl in frustration, slamming the door. “Your loss, bitch! Have fun with your hand!” You hear him bark, and you can only assume he’s gone, as you don’t hear anything else outside your room. With a groan, you walk over to your bed, flopping onto it. You rub your hands across your face, grimacing as you see some of your makeup come off in the process. Tonight had been a clusterfuck, to say the least, and you feel on the verge of tears from it all. Part of you wants to cry, but you do your best to suppress the urge, biting the inside of your cheek.

“‘Have fun with your hand’.” You find yourself scoffing out his words, glaring up at the ceiling, before you promptly flick it off. “Fuck you, pervy asshole. Bet you would like me to do that so you can watch like some fucking weirdo.” You don’t even know if he can hear you, but you can only hope so. Or maybe not. How desperate are you to get a jab in, after all? You just groan out, getting up. You clean the makeup off your face, and change into night clothes as you crawl back into bed. The first thing you do is go to the app you met Ryan on and unmatch, because you are far too embarrassed about this situation to want to see him again.

…And, Adam was right. Ryan was really boring.

#reader insert #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #you #hazbin hotel adam #reader

59 notes · View notes