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#Lucien x Jean
fanartandstuffilove · 6 months
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Yes, still obsessed. And I don't want it any other way.
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blossom--of--snow · 11 days
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Happy belated birthday to @andallthatmishigas! This one's for you <3
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escapewithstories · 7 months
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seven-dragons · 1 year
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“Surely you haven’t done anything that can’t be undone, have you?”
If you ask someone that question and they make this face, do you believe them?
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Also on ff.net
Summary:          Jean and Lucien double date with Matthew and Alice. It doesn't end well for Jean and Lucien. It does for Matthew and Alice. Li finally experiences a normal teenage evening.
Notes:          Here be angst! and fluff too :) Thanks for your patience. Things have been a bit much lately. But I have lots of great stuff planned and already written so bear with 😊
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doctoraliceharvey · 1 year
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Merry Christmas to @blossom--of--snow!! Enjoy!
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gutsby · 27 days
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Cry, Baby
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.
Warnings: 18+. Dacryphilia (kinda). Unprotected p-in-v. Girthy, unspecified age gap. Daddy kink. Jealous Joel.
Notes: Sorry for using pussy pronouns. It will happen again.
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Joel Miller was a man of few words in most every place except the one where he found himself about to beat the brakes off your pussy. Then he never shut the fuck up.
“Uh-huh…just a little more…I know, sweet girl, I know.”
You had your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel of his ‘71 Ford F-100, but rather than driving anywhere, your ass was comfortably parked on the front of his jeans—straddling his lap backwards while you rubbed your half-clad cunt over stonewashed denim. It was hell.
You’d been grinding against the bulge beneath those jeans so hard, and for so long, your white cotton undies had parted to the side, and your pleasure was nearly stretched commensurate with just how pathetic you felt.
Your head dropped between your two hands on the black molded plastic of the wheel, and you let out a whine.
“Joel—”
“Keep goin’.”
“This ain’t fair!”
Without hesitation, the hands that were holding your hips tightened their grip, and now Joel was raking your lower half over his. Rutting your core back and forth.
“You wanna know what ain’t fair?” he seethed.
He didn’t wait for you to answer.
“How much she’s been droolin’ over me all night.”
‘She’ meaning your unfucked cunt, of course.
Joel then punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard press of his palm—forcing you to lay flat on the steering wheel, hips tilted back to him. With just one callused finger of his other hand, he found you soaked between your folds. He dragged it from your clit to your aching hole, and you heard him sigh, as though sad.
“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Joel said. Lamenting.
You were almost lost to the sensation of his finger rubbing you up and down, but somehow, you managed, ‘W-W-What is, Joel?’ in between soft, plaintive sounds.
Sometimes you forgot how much older he was than you. Sometimes you said he was just like the boys your age. Other times he had you pinned like this, breaths calm and cruelly measured while you damn near came apart beneath his hand, and then you remembered everything.
“You just couldn’t wait ‘til we got home,” he grumbled.
Using the same hand he’d been stroking you with, Joel laid a quick slap to your cunt, and you jumped. Your head narrowly missed the roof of his truck; still, you groaned.
“‘M’sorry, Joel,” you keened.
You weren’t. The old man knew you weren’t.
The hand that had been splayed over your back sank in. The force of that push pressed your belly to the chipped Ford logo at the center of the steering wheel, and with the added pressure went the blare of the car’s horn.
The sound might’ve lasted two seconds before you scrambled back, desperate, into Joel’s broad chest. A couple old-timers making their way from the bar to their cars in the parking lot cocked their heads curiously in your direction a couple yards away. Seeing nothing of note, they lost interest just as quick and kept walking.
“Sorry for what?” Joel said.
At the moment, he didn’t seem to notice, or care, that his truck was parked a mere stone’s throw away from the Tipsy Bison, and bar-goers were milling freely between the building and the cars all around you. His belt unbuckled all the same, zip came down in a blink, and his thick, veiny, throbbing, and angry cock came to rest between your cheeks. He started to push you forward.
“Sorry for— for flirtin’ with Tommy,” you stammered, sucking in a breath when you felt him run the head of his cock between your lips. You could hear a soft squelch.
“And Lucien?”
“And Lucien.”
“And—”
“And Dieter, and Frankie, and Javi, and Marcus.”
Rattling off the names of all the men you’d been flirting with at the bar to make Joel jealous and take you back home to fuck you became an embarrassing chant.
“And?”
“…and Mayor Garcia,” you completed, sheepishly.
Back in there, you hadn’t been too proud to stoop to a politician’s level, even. That was how needy you’d been to get attention, and now Joel was giving it to you.
As hard as he could—he didn’t wait for the ‘OK’ before seating you on his cock. You were simply pulled back from the wheel and into his lap, onto his stiff erection, and before you could steady yourself, he started drilling.
“Even through these panties—” Joel tugged at the cream-colored cotton he’d easily slipped past, “—even through that slutty little skirt, I could feel how wet she was.”
Your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands found purchase in the torn-up leather of the seat, fisting strings and patches of fabric in a helpless sort of plea as Joel took over. With the buttons of his dark green flannel searing a stripe down your spine and his grey-speckled chin coming to nudge between your neck and your shoulder as he fucked you, you felt content. Secure.
Spilling more for him, then. Seeping rivers down the length of his shaft as he breached your walls and made you his all over again. And again. Leaving trails of arousal with every thrust, and rolling your head, limply, into his.
“She cryin’ for me?” Joel breathed, “Or somebody else?”
As if on cue, his cock hit the most sensitive ridge inside you, and you felt yourself gush even more. Dripping now.
“You.” Your voice was raw.
“Me?” Joel’s degradingly sweet.
Before you could answer ‘you’ once more, the driver’s door cracked open beside you both. For one panicked, terrifying second, you thought someone from the bar might’ve caught you two—then you were stunned to look over and see it was Joel’s own tough, steel-toed boot that had propped the door open to the cool night air.
The truck was facing the bar’s front door, shielded only by some foliage and a hatchback car about half its size. Other than that, you were exposed to whoever happened to pass by the big, bay window and take a look inside.
Joel felt you tense, and he pressed a kiss to you neck. Then he slid you carefully, almost tenderly, to the left until you were perched over the side of the seat with your legs dangling out of the truck—still filled to the hilt with his cock and pressed tight to the front of his chest.
“Cry a little more,” he urged.
Then, when your pussy gave an involuntary clench and drenched him some more, he slipped a hand around your front and started toying with your clit. Your gaze was wide, almost frightened as you stared ahead at the bar and saw patrons making rounds about the tiny place, fearing one might see you and Joel, but it felt so good. And wrong. And reckless, having this man who was easily decades your senior bouncing you up and down on his cock and letting you soil the front of his Wranglers.
“Pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, pretty girl,” Joel let out a chuckle and gave your shoulder a playful bite when you pulsed around him again, “Squeezin’ me real tight, too.”
It was like your body was beyond your own control. You scarcely even realized your cunt had him gripped with such force, much less made a mess of his old denim. He just held you to him and kept pressing rough, stubbled kisses to your shoulder, reminding you over and over how sweet you were, how well you were taking him, how nice and tight and goddamn pretty that pussy must’ve looked gushing around daddy’s cock—maybe we can fuck in front’a the mirror so we can see it later, huh, baby?
You would’ve said yes to anything he said, you reckoned.
Especially when his arms moved over your front and you felt him grin, and he hugged you while he fucked you—nobody made you feel quite as special while they were splitting you open. Nobody’s balls felt quite as heavy and firm and full while hitting your ass by turns, and certainly no one but Joel could make you cum just as quick when he leaned into your ear and said, ‘Let go for me, darlin’.’
You did, and you felt his warmth follow inside you with the friction of just two more thrusts. Your head fell back on his shoulder, a moan clawed out of your throat, and the warm, euphoric feeling of release washed over your senses in waves, one trembling sensation after the next. Joel’s groans were quick to spill into your own, and, likewise emptying himself, he held your hips to his and made sure every drop stayed right where he wanted it.
His spend was always heavy, but this load felt larger than usual—like he’d been aching to fuck you full of his cum. Just as you both were coming down from your highs, you couldn’t help but key in on that soft, sticky warmth, likely to come oozing as soon as Joel pulled out of you.
In fact, you got to be so focused that you jumped when you felt something press to your cheek a second later.
It took another moment to register it as a kiss from Joel.
Then his tongue, dragging softly up the side of your face.
You started to laugh, about to ask him what the hell he was doing, when you felt a tear slip out of your other eye. With the sudden, sharp influx of pleasure, the moisture had leaked out without you even feeling it. Joel grinned.
He gave your cheek a light squeeze, wiped the other tear with the pad of his thumb, and kissed you again before mumbling in your ear, almost teasing as he said it:
“Crybaby.”
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fanartandstuffilove · 2 years
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These two are still on my mind. I wish there were more adventures for them to explore and us to watch.
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blossom--of--snow · 2 years
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My contribution to the spooky season! @andallthatspookymishigas @doctoraliceharvey @okaynextcrisis and @escapewithstories this one’s for you!
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mypoisonedvine · 8 months
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𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 | neil lewis x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | a visit to gumshoe video could go one of two ways... but one way or another, you're gonna get him.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | varies
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only), enemies to lovers, nothing too terrible just neil and reader bullying each other
this is a choose your own ending fic!! after the introduction, click to choose which way you want the story to go! each ending will have its own warnings section, so read those as well!
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Technically, you always dressed well for work.  Corporate jobs require professional attire, obviously; but you were slightly overdressed today, and it wasn’t to go into the office.
Tight skirt and matching blazer, a silky-satin button-up, black heels, and thigh-high stockings with a seam up the back.  No, this wasn't how you dressed for a day in the office… this was how you dressed when you were closing a deal.
A little bell dinged as you walked into Gumshoe Video, and you looked around for a moment after you stepped inside: the decorations were… plentiful, and kitschy.  The displays were so small, and just a quick glance at some of the shelves had you frowning in confusion.  These are some seriously deep cuts… how do they make any money at this place?
Lucien came bounding up to you in an instant, hands pressed tight against his horribly out-of-fashion skinny jeans as if to hide that they were clammy already.  "Do you, uh, need help finding anything?" he asked.
You offered him a pitying smile, about to offer him a friendly ‘no thanks, but’ and then tell him why you were really here… but you were interrupted.
Jonathan, who had taken a break from sipping on a soda behind the counter, coughed to get Lucien's attention as he quickly shook his head.  He didn't seem to understand, though, looking back at you with his brows furrowed.
"Uh, ignore him,” Lucien laughed nervously.  “Are you looking for a rental?"
"Dude, she's not here to get a movie!" Jonathan snapped.  "Who dresses like that to pick up a tape?!"
"Maybe she's on her way to work!" Lucien returned sharply. "Or maybe she just came from somewhere!"
"Where?"
"My dreams!"
"No, your friend is right, I'm not here to pick up a movie," you admitted, and Lucien looked at you nervously.
"You, uh, don't like movies?" he wondered.
"I love them actually, but—"
The door to the office swung open, with Neil glaring at you from the other side of it.  "You," he announced with disdain.
"—but I'm here to speak with the owner," you finished, tilting your head and grinning at Neil.
"We have nothing to speak about," Neil assured you as he walked towards you.  
"We have multiple opportunities to discuss," you disagreed, "and my employers are very anxious that I deliver this message to you, so if we could please speak in your office—"
"Her employers?  Is this chick in the mob?!" Lucien blurted out fearfully.  "Neil, I know money's tight, but— oh fuck, was that 'small business loan' just a cover—"
"She's not from the mafia," Neil sighed.  "They actually have some morals."
You extended a hand to introduce yourself to Lucien.  After your name, you told him your job: "Head of Acquisitions, Media Giant, LLC."
Jonathan coughed again, poorly covering the sound of him saying "blood-sucking harpy" under his breath.
You smiled at him; "You really should get that cough checked out," you suggested pointedly.
“Whatever it is your puppet-masters want you to discuss with me,” Neil began, wiggling his fingers as if pantomiming a little marionette show, “you can take right over there into our women’s restrooms and shove directly up your ass.”
“Oh, that’s cute,” you smiled, “I bet you’ve been saving that one since our last little visit.  Can we go to your office now?”
“No, you can’t go in there— we just had the priest come by and bless it, we wouldn’t want your feet to burn now, would we?” Neil snarked in return.
“Fine— get it out of your system,” you encouraged.  “Say whatever’s been stuck in that pretty little head for the last month waiting for me to come back, and then we can have our meeting, alright?”
“I— well, uh—” Neil stalled, looking a little flustered as he suddenly leaned on a shelf of tapes with one hand.  “You think I’m pretty?” he mumbled nervously, running his free hand through his hair— only to put a little too much weight on the shelf and nearly tilt it over, having to scramble to catch it and make sure it was balanced again.
“Dude, pull yourself together,” Jonathan snapped at him, and Neil glared at him before looking back at you.
“Fine, okay— we can have a very brief conversation in my office,” Neil offered with a sigh, motioning for you to follow him, “but it’s going to go the same way it did last time: with me telling you hell no and you having to do the walk of shame back to your headquarters.”
“Looking forward to it,” you smiled, waving goodbye to the other men before stepping into Neil’s office as he shut the door behind you.
You watched him step around you to sit at his desk, looking at you expectantly with his legs spread and his fingers interwoven in his lap.
“Am I allowed to ask why you’re dressed like a cowboy, by the way?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, and he frowned at you as he tossed aside the hat and slipped the poncho off over his head, leaving just a much more normal outfit of jeans and a button-up underneath.
“We’re running a special on Westerns,” he explained, “it’s fun, okay?  Not that you would know fun if it smacked you on the ass and called you sweetcheeks.”
“Honey, that’s just what I call a Friday night,” you smirked as you stepped a little closer leaning against the side of his desk as he swallowed thickly.  You couldn’t just sit across from him— you needed to keep the upper hand.  “But I’m here for business.  Let’s talk business, shall we?”
“Right, business,” he frowned.  “I’m guessing your business here today is trying to buy my store, again?”
“Something like that,” you relented.
“You know, I guess I should take it as a compliment,” he grinned, leaning back further in the chair.  “Clearly, you know I’m a threat.”
“Please,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re a Fortune 500 company, and you’re a guy wearing a poncho.”
“I took off the poncho!” he defended.
“So you’re… just a guy, then,” you corrected.  “The point is, we’re not worried about you stealing our business at all.  We just think this location is going to waste.”
“You want the real estate?” he realized.
“You’re in a perfect spot, you know,” you informed him, “you just need… a little more help utilizing it.”
He sneered at you sharply.  “I don’t want anything from you.”
“You only hate me so much because you resent success,” you informed him with a sigh.  “Just because you’re broke and proud doesn’t mean making money is a sin.”
“It is when you put making money above everything else,” he replied, “like creativity and community and the authentic customer experience—”
“How exactly does Media Giant conflict with those things?” you scoffed.  “We’re a company founded on creativity— and we always foster community—”
“Spare me the doublespeak, Big Brother,” Neil scoffed, “you’re just a bunch of— of robots!  Your whole company, it’s just full of people trying to make a quick buck, top to bottom: you think the people in the back at McDonald’s give a fuck about food?  That’s what you are, the McDonald’s of the film industry.  You’d probably let a monkey work there if it could wear a nametag and convince someone to rent Fast and Furious Fifty or whatever the fuck.”
“Fine,” you sighed, “let’s just say for a moment that you’re right.  That my company is so terrible because we don’t employ people like you.”
He relaxed for a second, and you leaned in closer in hopes that he was really listening.
“This is your chance to fix that!” you explained.  “You can save us from the inside out, you know.  You can start from the bottom, be our best sales guy, and then it turns into a promotion and a raise and soon you’re climbing the corporate ladder— where you can make some real change.”
He shook his head, laughing a little.  “That’s not actually possible, it’s just a fantasy you tell all your little minions to keep them compliant.”
“It’s what I did,” you shrugged.
“You?” he realized with a laugh.  “You, in one of those navy vests and nametags, selling people tapes?”
“I’m sort of a cinephile,” you admitted.  “I wanted a job where I could talk about movies all day— and thanks to me, that Media Giant location rented out more copies of The Seventh Seal than all the rest combined.”
He stood up quickly, stepping closer to where you sat on his desk.  “Y-you like The Seventh Seal?”
“It’s a masterpiece,” you answered, speaking a little softer as he was so close, “Bergman is a genius.”
A strange look crossed over his face, a heavy-lidded sort of look as he examined you.  “Tarantino?”
“Overrated, but not bad,” you replied quickly.
“Tarkovsky?”
“Good, but hard to watch.”
“Lynch?”
You scoffed; “Don’t insult me.”
He laughed a little, crossing his arms and looking away from you.  “You could be one of the good ones,” he realized, “but you sold out.  And now you’re just a suit.”
“It’s not so bad,” you smirked, “I think you’d like a little more… structure, given the chance.”
“And that’s what you’re offering?” he pressed, and you nodded.
“We’ll let you keep the name, your employees… most of the decoration,” you offered, “you’ll just be technically a Media Giant franchise.  You have nothing to lose, and so much fucking money to gain.”
He sighed a little, looking at you again.  You could tell he was considering it, but not very thoroughly.  All you could do was hope for the best, and wait for an answer…
CLICK HERE FOR THE SUB!NEIL ENDING
CLICK HERE FOR THE DOM!NEIL ENDING
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seven-dragons · 1 year
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TDBM season 5 writers really said fans can have a little sex, as a treat.
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Summary: Pancakes, hair braiding and cocoa, Oh My! Li and Jean talk Jean and Lucien talk Mattie finds herself a family Jean receives a surprise
Notes:          Another chapter? So soon? I know, it blew my mind too! But I took a few days off work and went away over the weekend and have written more on this in two days than I feel like I have all year. I've hopefully turned a corner with my writing and will be doing it more regularly now. I have about 4 new OFMD stories in my head that are dying to get out. As always comments and questions are appreciated. I love hearing what you liked or weren't expecting. 😊
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darthannie · 4 months
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day twenty-six: thigh riding with neil lewis
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pairing: Neil Lewis x f!reader word count: 821 warnings: kissing, thigh riding, Neil is fully clothed (reader not so much), getting caught(ish) a/n: It is indeed the new year, but I don't wanna dnf so these will still be coming out! I think they're fun! kinktober masterlist
“I guess I’ll see ya next time,” you muttered as you got up to gather your things. Everyone had already gone from movie night and it was just you and Neil. 
He reached out to stop you “Wait, why don’t you stay? I could toss on 2001 or Night of the Living Dead or something?”
You considered it. “Throw on Psycho. Seen it a thousand times, but never with you, ya know?”
“Right! Yeah, sure,” he got up and milled around for a second, before walking towards a shelf labeled “HITCHCOCK”. His finger ran across the tapes, “Let’s see… got it!” He ran back and put the movie in the player. 
You sat back down on the couch and he sat next to you. The energy was similar to being alone with a high school crush for the first time. You readjusted to lay down on his lap.
“What are you doing?”, he asked as a grin formed. 
“Getting comfortable.” You adjusted your head in his lap and he shifted his body. You laid your hand over his thigh, squeezing slightly. He laid his arm over your body. You’d never touched each other this much. The most contact you’d given each other was eye contact. 
You stayed like this for a while, adjusting slightly here and there. About halfway into the film, you felt his hand moving towards the hem of your shirt. He tested the waters, slowly lifting your shirt and laying his palm flat against your skin. 
“Neil…” you said as you turned on your back.
“Yes?”, he responded, hoping you weren’t about to tell him to stop. 
“Why are you touching me like that?” You sat up and faced him.
He immediately removed his hand and became rather sheepish. He stuttered a bit as he said. “I just thought- I thought maybe- Maybe- You know- You maybe felt some kind of way about me.”
You stared at him for a moment before your lips crashed into his. 
He cocked his head over and pulled you in closer. His hand went back to your waist but this time it moved down to the button of your jeans. Feeling bold, you pulled away and got up to remove your pants yourself. 
“Those too,” he said gesturing to your underwear. He watched you closely. You smirked and chuckled lightly. You took them off and dropped them to the floor. 
“Now come here.”
You shifted towards him. He reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you down right on his thigh. Your bare skin on his clothed thigh felt weird, but not uncomfortable. His hands landed on your hips as you settled on him. 
“Move.” His eyes were stuck on yours, waiting for you to follow his plea. You bucked your hips slightly. Your knee was in between his legs, brushing softly against him through his pants. He let out a sigh as you continued to buck your hips. You leaned forward and put your head in the crook of his neck, kissing him and moaning softly as you continued rutting up against him.
You felt so needy. His hands reached around and he grabbed your ass, pulling you towards him. He kept his hands there as you cupped his face to kiss him. He pulled away and kissed your neck, nipping at your skin lightly. Your moans got a little louder but they stopped when you heard familiar voices outside.
Your eyes widened. You hopped off him and quickly pulled your pants back on. Neil tried his best to hide his erection and the wet spot that had formed on his thigh. The rustling of keys stopped, and the voices got louder as the door opened. The full-blown conversation turned into murmurs as Jonathan and Lucien saw the two of you on separate sides of the couch. You sat up pin straight and Neil cleared his throat.
“Forget something?”, Neil asked. The two men by the door looked between you and Neil. 
Jonathan smirked, “Yeah I just left my cell behind the counter. Lucian, did you forget anything?”
Lucian felt the awkward energy in the room and he did not like it. “No, I didn’t,” he stepped towards the door saying, “See you tomorrow!” before running out. Jonathan trailed behind him, putting the key in the door, turning it, and checking the knob to make sure it didn’t budge. 
“See you tomorrow, guys,” said Jonathan. He pulled the door back and turned to look at the both of you. “Two things,” he pointed at you, “Your underwear is on the floor. AND if you guys are FINALLY gonna get together, anywhere but the couch. Please.”
“Sure thing!”, you shouted as he left. You didn’t even face him as you said it. Your eyes were stuck on the screen.
When he left, you looked over at Neil who had a smirk on his face. Everything was about to happen on that couch. 
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Taglist:
@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthology, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka, @no-fooking-fighting,@queenofstresss, @flwrs4aust, @mrkdvidal1989, @00hsv, @laylasbunbunny
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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month
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Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅
Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3
I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.
Can't Keep My Hands To Myself
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Modern!Eris x Reader
Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.
Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish
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The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.
Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.
It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.
Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.
Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.
Possessive bastard.
You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.
You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.
Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.
So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.
Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.
It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.
The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.
Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."
"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."
"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.
"What if you-"
You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."
Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."
"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"
Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.
Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."
Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."
It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.
As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.
His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.
Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.
If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...
No, y/n.
Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.
Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.
Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.
If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.
Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"
It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.
"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.
"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.
Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"
"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.
Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.
"I can't help it."
"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.
"Oh?"
Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."
"Eris..."
His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"
You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."
Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."
The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.
"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."
Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."
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Authors Note
Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.
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